<![CDATA[X-treme Wrestling Federation

<![CDATA[X-treme Wrestling Federation - Anarchy Results]]> https://xwf1999.com/ Wed, 07 Oct 2026 11:34:51 +0000 MyBB <![CDATA[ANARCHY - 09/04/2026]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=50446 Fri, 04 Sep 2026 19:09:59 -0700 Atticus Gold]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=50446
MEMC EC: YO! WORD LIFE! I know Anarchy already started, but don't worry. Your boy the Main Eventer will not miss his main event; I'm on my way to CHICAGO!

He turns the camera towards the windshield.

MEMC EC: I left Ohio like... hours ago, Dawg.

The camera passes a highway sign.

WELCOME TO OHIO

MEMC EC: Motherfucker…

The scene fades out and the into for Anarchy begins.

XWF Anarchy
[Image: vuE1ZV0.png]

09 - 03 - 2026

LIVE FROM UNITED CENTER!

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS

JORDAN PENN
- vs -
JOHN BLADE
"Warm-Up Match"

The internal temperature of the ring starts at 95 degrees.

Every thirty seconds, it will increase by a degree.

The match will end when one competitor is pinned or submitted, or both competitors are boiled alive.

OLEANDYR REITAN
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX

As demanded by Latoya Hixx: “If Storm Goddess wins, they receive a(n Anarchy) tag team Championship (opportunity) at Relentless XI!”

DOM DURANGO
- vs -
SAFARI STU

MOST DANGEROUS GAME MATCH!

The competitors start in a state-of-the-art safari zone, each armed with a weapon of their choice!

The first one to hunt the other (in the form of securing a pinfall or submission) wins!

'SPOILED' SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
'TOO FLY' KENNY STYLES
- vs -
SOLOMON KLINE
- vs -
'THE FREAK' TOMMY WISH

FATAL FOUR-WAY MATCH!

PART ONE

MISTER OZ
- vs -
MC EDGECRUSHER

GAUNTLET MATCH - Singles

PART TWO

MISTER OZ
- vs -
The Man Known as @getouttamyringerson

GAUNTLET MATCH - Singles

If Oz loses, he is forced to represent Mark Zuckerberg at Relentless against Scoops McGee

THE GRAND FINALE

MISTER OZ
- vs -
VITA FREAKIN' VALENTEEN

MEATHOOKS! OF! HORROR!

As Oz's theme hits, the first people to appear as the pyro turns into a fountain of sparks pouring down from the entrance, with Alysia and Fuzen, wife and daughter, walking out in white and black ball gown length dresses, with the two grabbing each other's hands and spinning each other to opposite sides of the entrance.

Oswald steps out and stands between them, holding his hands out to them both, holding their hands as they walk towards the ring. The women waving as if they were in a pageant. Once to the ring apron, he'd lift them both at the same time, before he jumped up after them, only to sit on the middle rope for them to get inside without problems.

His wife going towards the announcer to ask for a microphone, and as Oz is taking in the cheers and jeers, he holds his left hand out just as she is offering it to him, as he grabs it slowly and brings it to his chest, as his wife and daughter gesture for everyone to quiet down. Once done, he put the microphone up towards his mouth and begin to speak.

"LADIES, GENTLEMEN, AND ALL THOSE IN-BETWEEN! I will be your Master of Ceremonies as well as a participant later in the night, MISTER OZ AND WELCOME TO CHICAGO'S STORIED UNITED CENTER!"

The crowd goes immediately to pop as they cheer loudly, while he heard some jeers, he motioned for them to quiet down.

"Tonight, you're going to see some amazing performances! From the lowest lows of Anarchy's depths we're going to have John Blade vs Jordan Penn to my gauntlet of matches! There's not going to be a single dull moment! So! Without further ado! Let's bring out our first contestants for our first match, shall we!?"

He says as he helps Alysia and Fuzen climb out of the ring to make way for the first match before all three are seen walking towards the backstage area.

The Time is now hit's as John Blade 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

Darkness. Silence. A pause.

"Hey, that your boyfriend?"

"True Believers" by DON BROCO feat. Sam Carter starts as the crowd starts a deafening chorus of boos. A spotlight.

"And that big red flag they waving, it's your choice."

The automatons, bearing their respective symbols on their masks appear, two on either side of the spotlight. X, O, Triangle and Square. A helicopter hovers now. From it comes a ladder that lowers down onto the spotlight, carrying Jordan Penn in his masked Director persona. He descends fully and kneels as his minions follow suit.

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

"WAKE THE FUCK UP!"

In that moment, he removes his mask as pyro explodes onto the stage behind him. Two other men join the entourage now, Greg Brune and Wallace. Jordan strides single-mindedly and quickly toward the ring, flanked by his four masked and two unmasked men. As he reaches the edge of the ring, he surveys the crowd, taking in their boos and letting it fuel him. A wry smile etched across his face, he laughs and looks to his men. The masked men get on all fours and form a human staircase for him. He walks across their backs with purpose and enters the ring. Wallace nods, signaling for the masked men to head backstage. Wallace and Greg Brune take their places on either side of the ring as Jordan mockingly does a pageant wave to the crowd, met with more booing. He flips off the audience in at least three different ways before leaning on the turnbuckle and looking out once more at the crowd and waiting for the match to begin.

TODD: The bell has rung and immediately John Blade is looking across the ring at Jordan Penn like he's found somebody he can finally take his frustrations out on!

BAMA T: And who could blame him? Last Anarchy, Charlie Nickles beat the hell out of John Blade. Tonight, Jordan Penn gets his turn. That's a hell of a coincidence, Todd.

TODD: You don't believe in coincidences.

BAMA T: Not in the XWF!

Blade storms across the ring.

Penn doesn't move.

Blade throws the first right hand—

PENN DUCKS.

Penn answers with a vicious forearm across the jaw.

Blade barely moves.

Penn hits him again.

And again.

Blade finally fires back with a massive right hand that catches Penn across the cheek and sends him stumbling backward into the ropes.

TODD: And Blade just rocked Penn!

Blade charges.

RUNNING SHOULDER BLOCK!

Penn hits the mat.

Blade bounces off the ropes again—

SECOND SHOULDER BLOCK!

Penn rolls toward the corner.

Blade follows him.

BAMA T: That's what John Blade does. He's 251 pounds of brute force, and if you let him get moving, you're going to have a very bad evening.

Blade grabs Penn by the throat and hauls him upright.

SPINEBUSTER!

The ring shakes.

Blade hooks the leg.

1!

2!!

PENN KICKS OUT.

Blade immediately sits Penn up and starts hammering him with forearms.

TODD: Blade is unloading!

Penn covers up.

Blade grabs him by the wrist and whips him across the ring.

Penn hits the turnbuckle hard.

Blade charges—

Penn moves.

Blade crashes chest-first into the corner.

Penn grabs the back of his head.

DDT!

Blade's face hits the canvas.

Penn doesn't cover.

He sits beside Blade.

And smiles.

BAMA T: There it is again.

TODD: What?

BAMA T: That sick and twisted smile of his!

Penn slowly wipes blood from the corner of his mouth.

Then he looks at his own hand.

He looks at Blade.

And he smiles wider.

BAMA T: Jordan Penn doesn't mind getting hurt.

Penn grabs Blade by the hair and pulls him up.

FOREARM SMASH!

Blade staggers.

FOREARM!

Blade staggers again.

SPINNING BACKFIST!

Blade collapses to one knee.

Penn grabs the back of Blade's head and drives a knee into his face.

TODD: Penn is taking Blade apart!

BAMA T: And he's enjoying every second of it!

The ringside temperature display flashes:

95°F → 96°F

Thirty seconds gone.

Blade suddenly explodes upward.

LOU THESZ PRESS!

Blade mounts Penn and starts throwing punches.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Penn covers his face.

Blade stands.

LEAPING CLOTHESLINE!

Penn goes down.

Blade pulls him up.

WHITE NOISE!

Penn crashes onto his back.

Blade screams toward the crowd.

BAMA T: Blade's got the momentum back!

Blade hooks Penn's leg.

1!

2!

PENN KICKS OUT!!!

Blade doesn't hesitate.

He grabs Penn by the waist.

GERMAN SUPLEX!

Penn lands hard.

Blade keeps the waistlock.

SECOND GERMAN!

Penn's body folds.

Blade keeps hold.

THIRD GERMAN!

Penn rolls through and lands on his feet.

Blade turns—

FLYING KNEE!

TODD: OH MY!

Blade drops.

Penn stands over him.

The temperature display changes again.

96°F → 97°F

Penn grabs Blade's legs.

He drags him toward the center.

Penn stomps the knee.

Again.

Again.

Then Penn drops down and begins hammering Blade's thigh with closed-fist strikes.

BAMA T: You know what I think Penn is doing?

TODD: What?

BAMA T: He's taking the legs away from Blade!

Penn stomps the knee one more time.

Then he grabs Blade's ankle.

TODD: Look at this!

Penn twists the leg.

Blade screams and immediately kicks Penn away.

Penn rolls backward.

Blade crawls toward the ropes.

Penn gets up.

Blade gets up.

They meet in the middle.

Blade throws a punch.

Penn slips it.

SPINNING BACKFIST!

Blade reels.

Penn grabs him.

SUPLEX!

Blade lands hard.

Penn immediately rolls through and grabs Blade again.

SECOND SUPLEX!

Penn rolls through again.

THIRD!

TODD: Three suplexes!

But Jordan Penn isn't finished yet.

He grabs Blade by the wrist.

FOURTH!

Blade crashes down.

Penn stands over him.

97°F → 98°F

BAMA T: It's getting hotter in there.

TODD: And somehow Jordan Penn looks more comfortable.

Penn takes one of his black gloves off.

He slowly pulls it free.

He looks at it.

Then at Blade.

And slaps Blade across the face with the glove.

BAMA T: Oh, come on!

Penn slaps him again.

Blade spits toward Penn.

Penn laughs.

Blade swings.

Penn catches the arm.

LARIAT—NO!

Penn ducks.

REVERSE DDT!

Blade's head hits the canvas.

Penn floats into the cover.

1!

2!!

BLADE KICKS OUT!

Penn sits up.

He looks annoyed.

Then he smiles again.

TODD: That might have been the closest we've come to a fall!

Penn climbs to the second rope.

Blade is barely moving.

Penn waits.

Blade slowly rises.

SMALL PRINT!

DIVING SIDE HEAD KICK!

BAMA T: RIGHT ON THE JAW!

Blade drops like a sack of concrete.

Penn rolls to the corner.

He watches.

Blade pulls himself up using the ropes.

Penn charges.

WHIP CRACK!

RAinmaker-style CLOTHESLINE!

Blade is turned inside out.

Penn doesn't cover.

Instead Penn grabs Blade by the wrist.

He pulls him up.

Blade can barely stand.

Penn whispers something into his ear.

Blade throws a desperate punch.

Penn catches it.

HEADBUTT!

Blade drops to his knees.

Penn grabs his head.

FOREARM!

FOREARM!

FOREARM!

Blade collapses.

98°F → 99°F

BAMA T: We're approaching triple digits!

TODD: And Blade is approaching unconsciousness!

Penn grabs Blade and drags him upright.

Blade suddenly fires back!

SPINEBUSTER!

Penn crashes down!

Blade collapses on top of him.

1!

2!!

3-

NO!!!!

PENN GETS A SHOULDER UP!

TODD: NO!

BAMA T: THAT WAS CLOSE!

Blade pounds the mat.

He gets to his feet.

He grabs Penn.

SPIN-OUT POWERBOMB!

Penn lands hard!

Blade hooks both legs!

1!

2!!

PENN KICKS OUT!

Blade stares at the referee in disbelief.

BAMA T: John Blade cannot believe it!

Blade grabs Penn.

He pumps his fist.

FIVE KNUCKLE SHUFFLE!

Blade bounces off the ropes—

Penn sits up.

PENN CATCHES HIM!

FLYING KNEE!

Blade falls backward.

Penn is on him instantly.

TODD: PENN IS UP!

Penn drags Blade toward the corner.

He climbs.

Blade is on one knee.

Penn waits.

99°F → 100°F

The crowd reacts to the temperature hitting triple digits.

Penn jumps.

SMALL PRINT!

The diving kick catches Blade flush.

Blade crumples.

Penn grabs him again.

FINAL CUT!

TODD: FINAL CUT!

Blade is launched through the air and lands hard!

Penn covers!

1!

2!!

3!!!

Winner - Jordan Penn

Penn doesn't celebrate.

He remains crouched over John Blade.

The temperature display flashes:

100°F

Penn looks up at it.

Then back down at Blade.

He grabs Blade by the jaw and forces his head upward.

Penn releases him.

Blade rolls onto his side, exhausted.

Penn stands.

He looks toward the hard camera.

TODD: JORDAN PENN HAS JUST SENT THE MESSAGE!

BAMA T: Charlie Nickles better be listening.

[video]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kqHSGVtfXhc[/video]

Just then, “Bullet With A Name” by Nonpoint begins blaring through the speakers! Charlie’s X-tron video comes to life!

Moments later, The Nickleman himself hits the stage.

Standing tall at the top of the ramp…

With a swinging noose hanging from his fist.

TODD: It looks like Charlie got the message, and he’s coming out to send one of his own!

Jordan Penn rushes towards the ropes and starts yelling at Charlie, pointing at him and demanding that he come down to the ring for a proper face-off.

But Charlie Nickles wears a madman’s smirk. The Nickleman’s wild gaze shifts from Jordan Penn, then to the noose in his hand. After a few seconds, he looks back at Jordan Penn one last time: before he slowly walks backwards into the gorilla position. Jordan Penn stands in the ring furious, stomping and sweating as John Blade only now begins stirring again.

To take out his frustrations, Jordan grabs John- setting him up for an

EMPIRE KICK!

John Blade falls back to the mat, unresponsive as Jordan Penn fumes in the ring.

TODD: Jordan Penn is downright itching to get at Charlie! He’s like a dog on the first day of pheasant season…just tugging on the leash!

BAMA T: But Charlie’s playing mind games with him, Todd! It’s a Classic Nickleman tactic!

TODD: I, for one, can’t wait to see these two superstars finally come to blows!

BAMA T: It’s going to be one of the most anticipated matches on the Relentless card, there’s no doubt!

When The Strom is Coming hits Latoya Hixx. they heard a voice laugh in the background and saw blue lights from the entrance and some smoke and rainfall coming down she walked onto the middle stage flexed her muscles walked straight down towards the aisle slapped a few XWF fans got inside the ring and dim the lights in the ring and she flexes her arms once more and spread her arms and climbs on the top rope and yell at her fans and tells them to let's go and climbs down off the ropes and waits for her Opponent to arrive.

Oleandyr walks down to the ring, their championship belt around their waist. They give some fans high-fives before they slide into the ring. Then, they take off their belt and give it to the referee as they await for the bell to ring!

OLEANDYR REITAN
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX

As demanded by Latoya Hixx: “If Storm Goddess wins, they receive a(n Anarchy) tag team Championship (opportunity) at Relentless XI!”

TODD: Here we go! Oleandyr Reitan is making her singles debut tonight, and the stakes could not possibly be higher!

BAMA T: And she's about to find out that there's a pretty big difference between being carried to a championship victory by a legend like Centurion and standing across the ring from somebody like Latoya Hixx all on your own!

Oleandyr approaches cautiously.

Latoya doesn't.

HIXX CHARGES!

A hard forearm catches Oleandyr across the face.

Oleandyr stumbles backward.

Latoya grabs her.

BELLY-TO-BELLY SUPLEX!

Oleandyr hits the mat hard.

TODD: Latoya Hixx wasting absolutely no time!

Latoya pulls Oleandyr up by the hair.

CHOP!

CHOP!

CHOP!

Oleandyr staggers into the ropes.

Latoya whips her across.

CLOTHESLINE!

Oleandyr goes down.

Latoya drops on top of her and starts hammering away with forearms.

BAMA T: This is what experience looks like, Todd. Latoya knows exactly where she is, exactly what she's doing, and exactly what she wants.

Latoya pulls Oleandyr up again.

NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX!

Oleandyr folds on impact.

Latoya floats directly into a cover.

1!

2!

OLEANDYR KICKS OUT!

TODD: And Oleandyr survives!

BAMA T: Survives is the right word!

Latoya immediately grabs her.

HEADBUTT!

Oleandyr drops to her knees.

Latoya backs into the corner.

She charges—

OLEANDYR MOVES!

Latoya crashes into the turnbuckles!

TODD: OLEANDYR GOT OUT OF THE WAY JUST IN TIME!

Latoya spins around.

Oleandyr instinctively grabs her…

INTO A ROLL-UP!

BAMA T: WHAT?!

Oleandyr has Latoya’s shoulders on the mat!

1!

2!!

3!!!

Winner- Oleandyr Reitan

Oleandyr immediately rolls away from Latoya, staring at the referee in complete disbelief.

Latoya sits up.

Her expression changes from confusion to absolute fury.

TODD: SHE DID IT! OLEANDYR REITAN HAS WON HER SINGLES DEBUT- AND SHE DID IT IN A MINUTE FLAT!

BAMA T: No. No, no, no. Don't tell me she beat Latoya Hixx. I just watched this match with my own eyes! She didn’t win anything, she just got insanely lucky…AGAIN!

TODD: The record book will say differently!

BAMA T: Oleandyr’s clearly still green as grass!

Latoya slams her hands against the mat.

Oleandyr scrambles toward the ropes, still looking stunned by what just happened.

TODD: That's rookie instinct! That's opportunity! That's being in the right place at exactly the right time!

BAMA T: Latoya Hixx dominated this match from bell to bell!

TODD: And Oleandyr got the only three-count that mattered!

Latoya points angrily toward Oleandyr.

Oleandyr points back.

Then, almost sheepishly, she raises her hands in victory.

Oz is seen with his family and his servants, helping him get ready for the matches. Usually he doesn't wrap his hands, but this time, he insisted. They were in the middle of wrapping his hands and some of this forearm, looking towards his wife and daughter.

"Tonight is going to either be a lot of fun, or a self-sacrifice. Either way, I'm going to go down swinging for the fences, and hoping breaking some of them down with my bare hands, smashing their brains against said metaphorical fence. I'll see you two when tonight is over. You don't need to continue being here for support. I always know you two are here for me."

He wanted to make a gesture, but his people were wrapping him. So, the two women hugged him as he smiled and they continued to stay in support of him as he gets readied for the gauntlet of matches coming up.

We cut back to the Edgecrusher who is visibly furious. The car isn't moving. A massive line of cars stretches ahead of him.

MEMC EC: Dawg... this is a disaster.

He pounds his fist on the steering wheel as a horn blast from behind him.

MEMC EC: I'm trying, I'm trying.

Another horn.

MEMC EC: Honking aint getting me to my main event any quicker.

The Edgecrusher looks down at his GPS.

GPS: Estimated arrival is 11:47 PM.

The Edgecrusher starts laying on his horn.

MEMC EC: LET'S GO!

The scene fades out and back to Anarchy.

The lights in the arena cut out entirely and are replaced by the harsh green glow of night vision filters splashed across the big screen. The ring has been removed entirely, replaced by a sprawling, fenced-in safari biome built specifically for tonight, complete with tall grass, a shallow watering hole, and a single dead tree standing dead center like a monument to bad decisions.

TODD: Bama, I have never seen anything like this in my entire broadcasting career.

BAMA: That's because nobody has ever been dumb enough to book it before, baby!

The drums of "Africa" by Toto rumble through the PA system and a camouflage painted Jeep bursts through a fake wall of foliage at the top of the ramp, crashing down into the safari zone itself. Safari Stu leaps out of the passenger seat mid roll, already waving to the crowd, and high fives the gorilla currently driving the Jeep in a tight donut around the watering hole. A flood of assorted wildlife pours out behind him. Stu tosses a monkey to a kid at ringside, shoots off finger guns toward the hard camera, and slings his Model 7 Winchester Rifle over one shoulder like he's just here for a nice afternoon hike.

TODD: The rifle is a legal weapon under the stipulation tonight, Bama.

BAMA: Everything's legal tonight, baby! That's the whole point!!

Then the war drums hit. No fog, no lights, no gimmick. Dom Durango simply walks out through the curtain dressed head to toe in black, plodding down the ramp with the energy of a man who has already decided how this ends. He steps over the wreckage of Stu's Jeep without so much as glancing at it and climbs over the safari zone fence like it personally offended him. Tucked under one arm is a wooden crate that rattles and screeches with every step.

BAMA: What in the world is in that box, Todd?!

TODD: According to my notes here, that's Dom's weapon of choice. A flock of genetically modified killer Dodo birds.

BAMA: I thought those things were extinct, baby!!

TODD: They were. But Dom somehow has the power to 3D print dinosaur meat and use the Shroud of Turin as a bib.

The horn sounds and both men lock eyes across the tall grass. Stu raises the rifle in mock salute. Dom does not blink. He simply drops the crate and kicks the latch open.

What comes out is somehow both stupid and horrifying at the same time. Six overweight, flightless birds the size of golden retrievers come barreling out of the crate shrieking, their beaks snapping like bear traps. Stu's eyes go wide and he takes off sprinting through the grass, the birds hot on his heels, while Dom simply walks after the chaos at his own unbothered pace.

BAMA: He's being chased by prehistoric murder chickens and Dom is just... walking, baby!!

TODD: Only thing Durango runs for is Dom Durango’s Meat-filled Meatballs(™). The only meatball double-filled with mystery meat! Hashtag ad.

Stu vaults over a fallen log and spins around, firing a warning shot into the air that sends every bird except one scattering into the underbrush. The last dodo lunges and clamps its beak directly onto Stu's forearm, and Stu screams something that sounds vaguely Australian and deeply inappropriate for television before finally shaking the thing loose and drop kicking it into the watering hole with a splash the crowd pops big for.

TODD: He just punted a dodo bird into a pond, Bama!!

BAMA: That is going in my highlight reel forever, baby!!

Dom uses the distraction to close the distance, catching Stu with a brutal European uppercut the moment he turns around. Stu's rifle goes flying into the grass and Dom follows up immediately with a forearm smash that puts Stu on the ground. Dom does not let up, driving stomp after stomp into Stu's ribs with the flat, joyless efficiency of a man clocking in for a shift he hates.

Stu rolls away at the last second and scrambles up the dead tree in the center of the safari zone, using the height to buy himself a moment to breathe. Dom stares up at him, unimpressed, and simply starts climbing after him with the same total lack of urgency he's shown all night.

BAMA: He's climbing a tree in a suit, Todd. A whole suit, baby!!

TODD: I don't think Dom Durango owns anything else.

Stu waits until Dom is nearly at the top before leaping off with a picture perfect frog splash, driving Dom straight down through a lower branch and into the dirt below. Both men crash hard, and for a moment neither of them moves. The remaining dodos begin to circle back in, drawn by the noise, pacing the edge of the grass like they're waiting for their turn.

Stu recovers first, dragging himself over for a cover.

1!

2!

Kickout, and Dom shoves Stu off him with a snarl.

TODD: We are two counts into hunting season and this thing has already gone off the rails completely.

BAMA: The rails were never on this train to begin with, baby!!

Stu retrieves his rifle from the grass and levels it, but Dom is already moving, closing the gap with a double leg takedown that drives Stu into the dirt before he can line up a shot. Dom wrenches the rifle away and, rather than use it as intended, simply cracks Stu across the skull with the stock of it like a two by four. Stu goes limp for a second, blood immediately welling from a gash above his eyebrow, and the mood in the arena shifts for the first time all night. The comedy drains out of it fast.

TODD: That was not a wrestling move, Bama. That was just violence.

BAMA: I don't think Dom knows the difference anymore, baby.

Dom tosses the busted rifle aside and drags Stu up by the hair, wrapping a choke around his throat that has nothing to do with putting him to sleep. Stu claws desperately at Dom's forearm, face turning a deep shade of red, and just as his eyes begin to roll back the dodos finally close in and start pecking at Dom's exposed calves. Dom releases the hold with a roar of pain, giving Stu just enough oxygen and just enough time to fight back.

Stu surges up and connects with a crane kick that snaps Dom's head back, following immediately with a tiger suplex that plants Dom hard on the packed dirt. He climbs to the broken remains of the dead tree and launches himself off with the Phoenix Splash, his finisher, connecting flush.

1!

2!

Dom kicks out, and the crowd loses their minds.

TODD: THE PHOENIX SPLASH CONNECTED AND DOM DURANGO KICKED OUT!!

BAMA: I don't think that man knows how to stay down, baby!!

Both men are running on fumes now, blood and dirt covering them both, the surviving dodos shrieking somewhere off in the tall grass. Stu goes for a Dragon Suplex, trying to finish this once and for all, but Dom fights the lift with pure desperate strength and drives an elbow back into Stu's temple to break the grip.

The pair scuffle in the mud until they break, Stu spots his rifle in the dirt as Durango charges.

He leaps for it!

But a Dodo runs in and snatches the rifle in his beak!

Safari Stu: “... Clever Girl…”.

TODD: CLOTHESLINE FROM HELL!!!

The impact folds Stu completely in half and he hits the ground like a puppet with the strings cut. Dom does not go for an immediate cover. He simply stands over Stu's motionless body for a long moment, breathing hard, before finally dropping down and hooking the leg.

1!

2!

3!

Winner - Dom Durango

TODD: He got him! He got him, Bama! Dom Durango has hunted Safari Stu!!

BAMA: What a war, baby! What an absolute war!!

Dom does not celebrate. He simply rises to his feet, steps over Stu's body without a word, and walks back toward the fence line as the surviving dodos scatter out of his path. Somewhere behind him, Stu's gorilla driver climbs out of the wrecked Jeep to check on his fallen friend, cradling Stu's head gently as the medics rush the safari zone. The lights fade to black on Dom's silhouette disappearing back up the ramp, alone, exactly the way he arrived.

The lights dim as the opening drums of She's My Collar roll through the arena.

Miss Furry comes through the curtain wearing the Anarchy Championship.

Already waiting in the ring is an easel holding a large framed something hidden beneath a black silk cloth.

She calmly walks the ramp and slips between the ropes with minimal effort.

Furry takes a microphone and walks directly over to the easel as the music dies down.

"So. Apathy beat Atara Raven. Clean.

Which means she earned the shot at me. That was always the deal."

Furry glances down at the Anarchy Championship.

"Dick's problem is that he made a bad bet. Decided Atara was gonna win before they even had the match."

Furry pulls away the black cloth.

Underneath is the expensive Relentless artwork.

**ATARA RAVEN vs. MISS FURRY©**

"Four hundred and eighty thousand dollars in advertising.

All for a match that wasn't even booked."

Furry looks over the poster.

"Then Apathy wins, and four hundred and eighty thousand dollars blows up in his face."

She looks toward the camera.

"So Dick tries his hardest to push her toward the Revolution Championship because he'd already paid for that."

She points toward Atara on the poster.

"But Apathy said no.

She chose me."

Furry reaches behind the frame and produces a cheap vinyl decal. Apathy's picture is a fraction of the size of either woman on the original artwork, with **+ APATHY** printed beneath it.

"I fail to see the problem."

Furry peels away the backing.

She holds Apathy's decal between the two women for a moment.

Then lowers it.

Lower.

Until—

SLAP.

Apathy lands in the bottom corner, just above the sponsor logos.

**ATARA RAVEN vs. MISS FURRY©**

**+ APATHY**

Furry steps beside the poster and frames it with both arms and a smile.

"There."

The crowd reacts nearly down the middle.

"Twenty-five thousand of these costs around five hundred dollars. Before shipping.

Slap them on the posters, the arena wraps, hell, even the billboard."

Furry points toward the tiny Apathy.

"Apathy gets the shot she earned.

Atara stays exactly where you already paid to put her.

And you don't have to throw four hundred and eighty thousand dollars in the trash."

She looks toward the entrance.

"You're welcome, Dick.

And before anybody starts questioning why I would want this...

One challenger becomes two? Fine. That's kinda been my whole run with this thing, hasn't it?

They give me a problem.

I find the solution."

Furry looks toward Apathy's tiny picture.

"You beat Atara. You earned your shot. Dick tried pointing you somewhere else and you still chose me.

I noticed.

And no, I'm not going to tell you that was the wrong choice...

I'd rather let you figure that out on your own."

The crowd pops before the reaction quickly gives way to boos.

"So, Dick."

She points toward the poster.

"I fixed your marketing.

Apathy gets what she earned. Atara gets what you paid for.

And at Relentless... I get them both.

You just need to make the stupid poster official."

The crowd is still reacting to Miss Furry's final words when the arena lights shift.

A different theme begins to play.

Dick Lichter emerges from the backstage area.

He stops at the top of the ramp.

He looks around the arena.

Then down.

Then up.

He smiles.

Lichter slowly raises one hand.

The crowd boos.

He nods approvingly.

Lichter: Oh, wonderful.

He begins walking toward the ring.

Lichter: I was beginning to worry you people had forgotten who actually runs this place.

The boos intensify.

Lichter grins.

Lichter: There it is.

He gestures toward the crowd.

Lichter: Much better.

Lichter reaches the ring and climbs the steps.

He looks up at the large Relentless artwork.

His eyes narrow.

Then he looks at the tiny Apathy decal sitting in the bottom corner.

Lichter's smile disappears.

Lichter: You know, Miss Furry...

He points at the poster.

Lichter: I don't think you understand what you just did.

A few cheers from the crowd.

Lichter immediately shakes his head.

Lichter: No, no, no. Don't encourage her.

He turns back toward the poster.

Lichter: You think this is clever.

He points toward the tiny Apathy decal.

Lichter: You think you've found some adorable little accounting trick to make my problem disappear.

Lichter adjusts his jacket.

Lichter: And normally, I would explain to you why you're wrong.

He smiles.

Lichter: But unfortunately...

A pause.

Lichter: You're right.

The crowd pops.

Lichter looks disgusted by the reaction.

Lichter: Apathy won.

He holds up one finger.

Lichter: She beat Atara Raven.

Another finger.

Lichter: She earned the championship opportunity.

Another finger.

Lichter: And she made it abundantly clear that she wants Miss Furry's Anarchy Championship.

Lichter slowly turns toward Furry.

Lichter: So I suppose congratulations are in order.

He gives Furry an exaggerated, sarcastic round of applause.

Lichter: You get Apathy.

Furry smiles.

Lichter's smile returns.

Lichter: Unfortunately, you don't get Atara Raven.

The crowd quiets.

Lichter takes a breath.

Lichter: Because after what Apathy did to her... Atara Raven cannot currently clear the medical requirements necessary to compete at Relentless.

The crowd reacts.

Lichter nods.

Lichter: That's right.

He looks toward the entrance.

Lichter: The woman you were all expecting to see at Relentless isn't medically cleared to be there…and it’s all Apathy’s fault! Not mine.

He turns back toward Furry.

Lichter: Apathy versus Miss Furry.

The crowd cheers.

Lichter: One-on-one.

He points at the Anarchy Championship.

Lichter: For that.

Furry raises the championship slightly.

Lichter looks at it.

Then at Furry.

Then back at the belt.

Lichter: At Relentless.

The crowd gets louder.

Lichter waits.

Then his expression changes.

A smug little smile creeps across his face.

Lichter: But that creates another problem.

Furry's smile fades slightly.

Lichter turns toward the hard camera.

Lichter: You see, Apathy didn't just ruin my plans for the Anarchy Championship.

He raises the microphone.

Lichter: She also ruined my plans for the Revolution Division.

Boos.

Lichter: I had a very specific plan.

He gestures toward himself.

Lichter: A very expensive plan.

He pats his chest.

Lichter: A very intelligent plan.

He smiles.

Lichter: A plan that, frankly, was going to make all of you considerably more money than you deserve to have.

The crowd boos.

Lichter laughs.

Lichter: But Apathy decided to win.

He sighs dramatically.

Lichter: So now I have to improvise.

Lichter turns toward the entrance.

Lichter: Tonight, there is a Fatal Fourway scheduled as our co-main event.

He looks around.

Lichter: Four competitors.

He smiles.

Lichter: One winner.

Lichter points toward the ring.

Lichter: And because I am such a generous man...

He pauses.

Lichter: That match is no longer simply a Fatal Fourway.

The crowd begins to buzz.

Lichter: Tonight's Fatal Fourway is now a NUMBER ONE CONTENDER'S MATCH for the Revolution Championship.

The arena erupts.

Lichter waits for the reaction.

Then casually straightens his jacket.

Lichter: You're welcome.

Lichter turns toward Furry.

Lichter: So let's review, shall we?

He points at the poster.

Lichter: At Relentless, Apathy gets Miss Furry- woman-o ey woman-o!

He points at the Anarchy Championship.

Lichter: The Anarchy Championship is on the line.

He points toward the entrance.

Lichter: And tonight, four people will fight for the right to challenge for the Revolution Championship.

Lichter looks at Furry.

Lichter: All because one woman couldn't simply follow the plan.

He shakes his head.

Lichter: Honestly.

Lichter takes a few steps closer to Furry.

Lichter: You know what I find most irritating about Apathy?

He doesn't wait for an answer.

Lichter: She keeps winning.

The crowd cheers.

Lichter rolls his eyes.

Lichter: It's terribly inconvenient.

He looks at Furry.

Lichter: But it's also made your job much easier.

Lichter gestures toward the championship.

Lichter: Because now you don't have to wonder whether you're defending against Apathy.

He smiles.

Lichter: You are.

A beat.

Lichter: And you don't have to wonder whether Atara Raven is going to be standing across from you.

He shakes his head.

Lichter: She isn't.

Lichter looks directly into the camera.

Lichter: Because Apathy made sure of that.

He lowers the microphone.

Then looks back at the tiny decal.

Lichter reaches over.

He carefully peels Apathy's little sticker from the corner of the poster.

He holds it between two fingers.

Lichter: You know what, Miss Furry?

He looks at the decal.

Lichter: Keep it.

He tosses it toward Furry.

Lichter: Because at Relentless, we're going to find out whether Apathy belongs in the corner of the poster...

Lichter points at the Anarchy Championship.

Lichter: Or at the center of it.

Lichter drops the microphone.

He smiles.

Then turns and walks toward the ropes.

The crowd rains boos down upon him as Miss Furry stands there stunned!

TODD: Four incredible competitors, one opportunity, and a champion watching very closely from backstage.

BAMA: You know Marisol Vilaro has got one eye on that monitor tonight, baby. Her and Summer Page got history that goes way back, and it did not end pretty.

TODD: A lot of people forget those two used to be close. Whoever wins this walks into that title picture with a story already written.

[size=medium][font=Courier New]

[size=medium][font=Courier New]
It shows Tommy in the shadows in a corridor somewhere on the X-Tron in a mask of some sort, and he heads down to the to the entrance. Once the funky intro breaks into "PAIN MADE TO ORDER", Tommy comes out headbanging to the song and he walks down and gives people some high fives, and even flicking off some people in the process. He then slides into the ring, and takes the mask off and sits in the corner, as his theme stops playing and he sits there with no emotion as he awaits his opp.

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.

BAMA: Look at this lineup, Todd! Every single one of these people can steal the show tonight!!

TODD: And only one of them walks out as number one contender.

'SPOILED' SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
'TOO FLY' KENNY STYLES
- vs -
SOLOMON KLINE
- vs -
'THE FREAK' TOMMY WISH

FATAL FOUR-WAY MATCH!

The bell rings and immediately Kenny Styles and Solomon Kline collide in the center of the ring with a mutual shoulder tackle that sends neither man moving, the two biggest bodies in the match testing each other early. Tommy Wish uses the distraction to slide outside and grab his kendo stick from under the ring, but Summer Page cuts him off at the apron with a slingshot suplex that plants him hard on the floor before he can even get his hands on the weapon.

TODD: Summer Page wasting no time neutralizing the biggest threat in this match early!!

BAMA: She's smart, baby! Cerebral! She knows Tommy with that stick is trouble for everybody!!

Back inside, Kenny finally gets the better of the power exchange with a series of rapid strikes, finishing with an enzuigiri that drops Solomon to a knee. Kenny climbs to the top rope looking for Turbulence, but Solomon rolls clear at the last second and Kenny is forced to land on his feet, only to eat a spear out of nowhere that folds him completely in half.

BAMA: SPEAR! SPEAR FROM SOLOMON KLINE! Kenny Styles just got turned inside out, baby!!

Solomon covers.

1!

2!

Kickout, and Tommy Wish is already back on the apron with the kendo stick in hand. He cracks Solomon across the back the moment he stands, the sound echoing through the arena, and follows with a stiff uppercut that sends Solomon stumbling into the corner. Tommy is relentless with the stick now, whipping it across Solomon's chest again and again while the referee calls for the weapon to be dropped.

TODD: Tommy Wish is a completely different animal when he's got that kendo stick in his hands.

BAMA: I don't think he's ever planning on giving it up willingly, baby!!

Summer slides back in and catches Tommy from behind with a tornado DDT that sends the kendo stick clattering into the ropes. She wastes no time chaining offense together, hitting a snap German suplex on Tommy followed immediately by a slingshot into a code red that gets the crowd rising out of their seats.

1!

2!

Kickout from Tommy, and Summer is visibly frustrated for just a moment before composing herself.

Kenny Styles, recovered enough to move, springboards in off the ropes and connects with the Phenomenal Forearm, his Gate Closed, directly on Summer, sending her rolling to the outside. He barely has time to celebrate before Solomon Kline catches him with a full nelson slam that plants him in the center of the ring.

TODD: Solomon Kline is an absolute wrecking machine tonight!!

BAMA: 6'6" of pure bad attitude, baby!!

Solomon drags Kenny up for what looks like the setup for Crimson Dawn, but Kenny slips free at the last second and rolls him up in a small package for a shockingly close near fall that has the whole building buzzing. Kenny follows up immediately with a standing shooting star press, but Solomon gets a knee up just in time and Kenny crashes down chest first with a sickening thud.

Outside the ring, Summer Page uses the ring apron to pull herself up just as Tommy Wish charges the barricade, and she side steps at the last possible second, sending Tommy crashing hard into the steel steps shoulder first. She rolls him back inside and climbs to the top rope, connecting with her Most Perfect Moonsault Ever for a two count that Tommy somehow survives, kicking out at the very last instant.

BAMA: MPME! The Most Perfect Moonsault Ever and Tommy Wish kicks out?! Baby, my heart cannot take this!!

TODD: Summer Page has been in complete control for most of this match, but Tommy Wish will simply not stay down.

Kenny Styles finally shakes off the cobwebs from the shooting star press attempt and pulls himself up using the ropes, only to find Solomon Kline waiting for him. Solomon scoops him up for the Blue Thunder Bomb and connects, but rather than cover, he stalks toward the corner, calling for Crimson Dawn to finish things once and for all. He hoists Kenny up for the powerbomb portion of the move, but Kenny slips free behind him and rakes his eyes in desperation, buying just enough space to fire back with a superkick that staggers the bigger man.

BAMA: Kenny Styles fighting for his life right there, baby! You do what you gotta do in a match like this!!

TODD: Desperation makes people do desperate things, Bama, and this match is nothing but desperation right now.

Kenny follows with a suicide dive through the ropes that catches Solomon flush and sends both men crashing into the timekeeper's area in a heap, completely spent. Summer watches from the ring apron, calculating, letting the two bigger men wear each other down exactly the way she wants.

Inside the ring, all four competitors find themselves upright at the same time for the first time all match, and the crowd roars in anticipation. Kenny catches Solomon with a Sling Blade. Summer catches Kenny with a high knee the moment he turns around. Tommy catches Summer from behind with a stiff forearm smash that sends her staggering into the ropes.

Tommy seizes the opening, locking in the Fetish Lock, his ankle lock, in the center of the ring, wrenching back with everything he has. Summer screams in pain, clawing desperately for the ropes that are just out of reach, and for the first time all night it looks like she might not have an answer.

TODD: The Fetish Lock is locked in tight! Summer Page has nowhere to go!!

BAMA: She's reaching, baby! She's reaching and she can't get there!!

Solomon and Kenny are both down on the outside from earlier exchanges, leaving no one to break the hold. Summer's arm raises once for the referee to check, drops, raises a second time, and just as it looks like she might have to tap or pass out entirely, the arena lights cut to complete darkness.

The X-Tron flickers.

And a word appears.

And again...

And again!

And a figure emerges crawling from the ring like a zombie bursting from the earth, grabbing Tommy Wish and sticking a hand down his throat into a mandible claw!

The figure turns to Summer briefly.

[Image: Beetlejuice_Sticker_Beetlejuice_1x1_Final.gif]

“... Mi amor!”

Summer’s eyes give a brief sense of recognition before the figure lifts Tommy and chokeslams him to the ground, before disappearing in a cloud of green smoke.

When the lights return, Tommy Wish is laid out flat in the center of the ring, and Summer Page is the only one standing over him. She breathes heavily looking around before dropping down and hooking both legs!

The referee slides into position!

1!

Kenny Styles, after a brawl with Kline pushes himself up towards the apron.

2!

He slides into the ring! Kline on his heels!

3!

But both are a fraction too late!

WINNER - "SPOILED" SUMMER PAGE!

TODD: SHE'S DONE IT! SUMMER PAGE IS YOUR NUMBER ONE CONTENDER!!

BAMA: What a night, baby! What an absolute statement heading into that Revolution Championship picture!! But who the hell was that guy in the ring!?

TODD: Summer seemed to recognise him… But only time will tell, Bama!

The referee raises Summer's hand as the crowd erupts, and on the X-Tron the feed briefly cuts to a shot of Marisol Vilaro watching from backstage, championship belt slung over one shoulder, her expression giving away absolutely nothing as Summer Page celebrates in the ring below.

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. 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.

TODD: Listen to this Chicago crowd roar! They are going CRAZY for Mr. Oz!

BAMA T: Oz may not hold an XWF belt, but as far as the people of Chicago are concerned, he is their CHAMPION!

TODD: And tonight, The Butcher of Chicago is headlining Anarchy’s main event in a massive 3-match gauntlet!

BAMA T: This is the moment this whole town has been waiting for Todd, they are chomping at the bit to see their savior live and in action!

Set up all around the ringside area, is a collection of meathooks hanging from tall metal poles. Some of the hooks appear rusted, or are they bloodied? It’s too hard to tell!

BAMA T: Just look at these meathooks Oz has set up all around the building! He’s planning to put on a bloody show of butchering his opponents!

TODD: But Oz has to be careful, Bama: because only the final leg of the gauntlet is a meat hooks of horror match! Every other leg of this gauntlet is using standard Anarchy rules!

BAMA T: I’m not sure Oz cares!

[video=youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KpR6S38djFM[/youtube]

M.C. Edgecrusher’s music plays for quite some time, but he never comes down to the ring.

TODD: Is, uh….is Edgecrusher in the building, Bama?

BAMA: I’m not sure, Todd! Maybe he got cold feet and chose the safer option!

PART ONE

MISTER OZ
- vs -
MC EDGECRUSHER

GAUNTLET MATCH - Singles

The ring announcer stands in the center of the ring as we return from a commercial break.

RING ANNOUNCER: Ladies and gentlemen, I have just been informed that MC Edgecrusher has failed to arrive for his scheduled match. Therefore, this match has officially been declared a forfeit. Your winner... OZ!

Winner by Forfeit- Mr. Oz

TODD: Well, that’s anti-climactic! But it’s probably best for M.C. E.C.’s health that he didn’t make it here in time!

BAMA T: The Butcher of Chicago was gonna rip that boy to shreds! And now, the wrestler known as @getouttamyringerson has to face a fresh Mr. Oz! You know he wasn’t planning on that when he agreed to take part in this brutal gauntlet of Oz!

The loud samba-esque beat of ‘30’ by Fukkit blares over the X-Tron… the Ninja known as @getouttamyringersonzips out from the behind the curtain, hopping from one foot to the next, looking like he’s ready to sprint to the ring when the beat drops…

…It drops! But it’s slowed and bass-boosted! And the Ninja slow-rolls down the ramp, stretching his shoulders as he walks, ignoring the crowd.

The man known simply as @getouttamyringerson hops onto the apron from the floor, then frontflips over the ropes and onto his feet athletically. He climbs up the turnbuckle like he’s going to pump up the crowd… and then he yawns on the top turnbuckle, before turning around and lounging against it, awaiting his opponent…

But Mr. Oz doesn’t have time to wait!

He immediately shoulder drops the ninja, and starts pummeling the ever living shit out of him! The referee has no choice but to ring the bell and start the match immediately!

PART TWO

MISTER OZ
- vs -
The Man Known as @getouttamyringerson

GAUNTLET MATCH - Singles

If Oz loses, he is forced to represent Mark Zuckerberg at Relentless against Scoops McGee

Oz grabs Ringerson by the throat and hurls him across the ring!

Ringerson crashes into the corner!

Oz charges!

RINGERSON DUCKS!

Oz slams chest-first into the turnbuckles!

Ringerson springs onto the ropes—

SPRINGBOARD DROPKICK!

Oz barely moves.

Ringerson hits the mat, rolls, and immediately pops back to his feet.

Oz turns.

CROSSBODY!

Ringerson crashes into Oz with everything he has!

Oz takes one step backward.

That's it.

BAMA T: He moved him!

TODD: That's about all it takes to impress me after M.C. E.C.’s match!

Ringerson scrambles up the ropes.

MISSILE DROPKICK!

Oz stumbles backward!

Ringerson hits the opposite ropes—

RUNNING HURRICANRANA!

Oz goes down to one knee!

The crowd erupts!

Ringerson doesn't wait.

He climbs.

450 SPLASH!

Ringerson lands across Oz!

1!

2!

OZ KICKS OUT!

Ringerson rolls away, shaking his head.

Oz sits up.

Slowly.

Almost mechanically.

BAMA T: Uh-oh.

Oz rises like a zombie from the grave.

Ringerson throws a kick.

Oz catches the leg.

Ringerson immediately spins—

ENZUIGIRI!

Oz releases him!

Ringerson rebounds off the ropes—

BIG BOOT!

Oz catches him in midair!

TODD: OZ CAUGHT HIM! WATCH OUT FOR THE SLAM!

Oz holds Ringerson against his chest.

BAMA T: WHERE IS HE GOING WITH HIM?!

OZ POWERBOMB!

Ringerson is planted!

Oz sits down across his chest.

1!

2!

RINGERSON GETS A SHOULDER UP!

TODD: HOW?!

Oz stares at him.

For the first time, there is frustration on the face of the Butcher of Chicago.

Ringerson rolls underneath the bottom rope.

Oz follows.

Ringerson grabs the apron and pulls himself up.

Oz reaches through the ropes—

Ringerson ducks!

Oz's arm gets caught between the ropes!

Ringerson spins around the ringpost!

ARM WRINGER!

Oz's shoulder smashes against the post!

Ringerson climbs onto the apron.

SPRINGBOARD!

KNEE TO THE FACE!

Oz staggers!

Ringerson runs again!

FLYING FOREARM!

Oz drops to a knee!

The crowd is going insane.

TODD: THE NINJA IS DOING IT! HE’S TAKING THE FIGHT STRAIGHT TO OZ!

Ringerson climbs!

He looks down at Oz.

MOONSAULT!

HE CONNECTS!

Ringerson hooks the leg!

1!

2!

OZ KICKS OUT!

Ringerson rolls onto his back.

He laughs.

Not because it's funny.

Because he can't believe this giant is still alive.

Oz grabs the ropes.

Ringerson gets up.

Oz turns.

RINGERSON WITH A SUPERKICK!

Oz doesn't fall.

Another!

Still standing!

A third!

Oz stumbles!

Ringerson charges—

SPINNING HEEL KICK!

Oz finally drops!

TODD: DOWN GOES OZ![/bue]

Ringerson climbs to the top rope!

He stands.

The Chicago crowd rises with him.

[blue]BAMA T: He's going for something insane here!

Ringerson leaps!

FROG SPLASH!

HE CONNECTS!

Ringerson hooks both legs!

1!

2!

OZ KICKS OUT!

Ringerson sits up in disbelief.

Oz rolls onto his stomach.

Ringerson grabs him.

He tries to pull the giant upright—

Oz explodes!

HEADBUTT!

Ringerson is rocked!

Oz grabs him!

LARIAT!

Ringerson flips completely over!

Oz grabs him again!

SECOND LARIAT!

Ringerson collapses!

Oz picks him up by the throat!

CHOKESLAM!

The ring shakes!

Oz stands over him.

He raises both hands.

The Chicago crowd knows what's coming.

TODD: OZ IS GOING TO BUTCHER HIM!

Oz grabs Ringerson by the legs.

He drags him toward the ropes.

Ringerson suddenly kicks!

Oz staggers backward!

Ringerson rolls!

ROLLING ELBOW!

Oz catches it!

BELLY-TO-BELLY!

Ringerson lands hard!

Oz charges!

CLOTHESLINE!

Ringerson ducks!

Oz turns!

RINGERSON WITH THE LIGHTNING-FAST ROLL-UP!

1!

2!

OZ KICKS OUT!

Both men scramble to their feet.

Ringerson is faster.

KNEE!

KNEE!

KNEE!

Oz catches the fourth!

OZ SLAMS HIM INTO THE CORNER!

Ringerson's back hits the turnbuckles!

Oz charges!

SPLASH!

Ringerson barely moves out of the way!

Oz crashes into the corner!

Ringerson jumps!

DROPKICK TO THE BACK!

Oz stumbles forward.

Ringerson grabs the ropes.

RANA!

Oz is sent face-first into the mat!

Ringerson climbs again!

SWANTON BOMB!

HE CONNECTS!

Ringerson hooks the leg!

1!

2!

OZ KICKS OUT!

Ringerson pounds the canvas.

He knows he's running out of options.

He looks toward the ropes.

Then toward the hooks hanging around ringside.

His eyes widen.

BAMA T: Don't tell me he's thinking what I think he's thinking…

Ringerson shakes his head.

He gets Oz upright.

He charges—

Oz catches him!

SPINEBUSTER!

Ringerson's body bounces off the mat!

Oz doesn't cover.

Instead, he grabs Ringerson by the throat.

He drags him toward the ropes.

Oz pulls Ringerson over the top rope!

Ringerson lands on the apron!

Oz climbs through the ropes after him!

Ringerson fires a kick!

Oz catches it!

BAMA T: RINGERSON!

Ringerson leaps!

HURRICANRANA OFF THE APRON!

Oz is sent tumbling back into the ring!

Ringerson lands on his feet!

The crowd explodes!

Ringerson turns around—

OZ IS ALREADY THERE!

Oz grabs him by the waist!

GERMAN SUPLEX!

Ringerson lands on his neck!

Oz pulls him up!

SECOND GERMAN!

Ringerson bounces!

Oz pulls him up again!

THIRD GERMAN!

Ringerson goes limp!

TODD: RINGERSON IS DONE!

Oz stands.

He looks down.

Then toward the nearest meathook.

BAMA T: Oz is looking at those hooks again…

Oz grabs Ringerson.

He drags him toward the ropes.

TODD: NO! COME ON!

The referee starts shouting at him.

Oz ignores him.

He hoists Ringerson over his shoulder.

BAMA T: DON'T DO IT!

Oz takes Ringerson toward the ropes—

AND THROWS HIM TOWARD THE MEATHOOKS!

Ringerson's body swings out over the ringside area.

His flesh catches the hook.

The hook snags him by the back and leaves him hanging suspended above the floor!

The crowd erupts in shock!

TODD: OH MY GOD![/bue]

Ringerson desperately tries to free himself as he shrieks in pain!

Oz stands at the ropes, staring down at him.

The referee immediately grabs Oz!

Oz shoves the referee away!

[blue]BAMA T: HE'S LOST IT!

The referee calls for the bell!

The referee is already signaling for the disqualification!

Winner by DISQUALIFICATION - @getouttamyringerson

TODD: OZ HAS BEEN DISQUALIFIED!

BAMA T: HE HUNG THE MAN FROM A MEAT HOOK!

TODD: YOU CAN'T DO THAT!

Oz screams at the referee!

The official backs away.

Oz looks back toward Ringerson, who’s bleeding profusely as he hangs from the meathook.

The ninja is still hanging from the hook, desperately trying to pull himself free.

Officials and ringside personnel rush toward him.

Oz climbs through the ropes!

BAMA T: Somebody needs to get that man down!

Oz takes one step toward the hook—

Multiple officials get between him and Ringerson!

Oz stops.

He looks around.

Then slowly smiles.

TODD: I don't think he understands what he just did!

BAMA T: Oh, he understands perfectly!

Oz points toward Ringerson.

Then points toward the collection of meathooks surrounding the arena.

He pounds his chest.

TODD: THE BUTCHER OF CHICAGO JUST BUTCHERED HIS OWN CHANCES!

Oz turns toward the hard camera.

The smile disappears.

BAMA T: And here's the problem for Oz!

Oz stares directly into the camera.

BAMA T: He just lost the match!

TODD: Which means that stipulation is now in effect!

The crowd erupts.

TODD: OZ HAS TO REPRESENT MARK ZUCKERBERG AT RELENTLESS AGAINST SCOOPS MCGEE!

Meanwhile, officials finally manage to free Ringerson from the hook.

He drops into their arms.

TODD: Ringerson survived!

BAMA T: Barely!

The camera focuses on Ringerson being helped away from ringside.

Then back to Oz.

TODD: What a match!

BAMA T: It was a damn war!

TODD: Ringerson had Oz beat!

BAMA T: Maybe he did!

TODD: But Oz couldn't control himself!

BAMA T: That's the story of the Butcher of Chicago, Todd! He doesn't know when to stop himself!

Oz stands alone in the ring.

Surrounded by meathooks..

BAMA T: Somebody better tell Scoops McGee...that he just got himself booked against a very, very angry butcher![/blue]

Then suddenly, the vibes of the entire arena shift as Vita Valenteen’s music plays through the PA system!

Vita Valenteen's music continues to roar through the arena.

The Chicago crowd erupts.

Oz is still standing in the ring.

His chest heaves.

His body is covered in sweat.

Blood runs down his arms from the chaos of the previous match.

He looks toward the entrance.

Vita steps through the curtain.

She stops.

She looks at Oz.

Then at the meathooks surrounding the ring.

Then back at Oz.

She smiles.

BAMA T: Vita Freakin' Valenteen is looking at the Butcher of Chicago like she's found something she wants to carve up!

TODD: But look at Oz!

Oz is leaning against the ropes.

He's exhausted.

He can barely catch his breath.

TODD: Two matches already! One of them against that human blur known as Ringerson!

BAMA T: And now he gets Vita!

Vita walks down the ramp.

She doesn't take her eyes off Oz.

She reaches the ring.

Steps onto the apron.

And cautiously enters.

THE GRAND FINALE

MISTER OZ
- vs -
VITA FREAKIN' VALENTEEN

MEATHOOKS! OF! HORROR!

Oz immediately charges!

VITA DUCKS!

Oz crashes into the ropes!

Vita spins!

KNEE TO THE BACK!

Oz stumbles forward!

Vita grabs him!

GERMAN SUPLEX!

Oz lands hard!

He immediately tries to rise—

Vita is waiting!

BOOT TO THE FACE!

Oz falls backward!

Vita mounts him!

FOREARM!

FOREARM!

FOREARM!

TODD: VITA IS ON HIM!

BAMA T: LIKE WHITE ON RICE!

Oz shoves her off!

He rolls toward the ropes!

Vita grabs his ankle!

Oz kicks!

Vita eats the boot!

Oz gets to his feet!

He charges!

CLOTHESLINE!

Vita ducks!

She rebounds!

RUNNING KNEE!

Oz staggers!

Vita grabs him!

DDT!

Oz crashes face-first into the canvas!

Vita immediately rolls him toward the ropes.

She grabs his legs.

She starts dragging him toward the nearest hook!

BAMA T: Vita knows exactly what this match is!

Oz suddenly kicks her away!

Vita goes rolling!

Oz crawls toward the opposite corner.

He uses the ropes to pull himself upright.

Vita gets to her feet.

Oz turns.

BIG BOOT!

Vita ducks!

Oz's leg gets caught!

DRAGON SCREW!

Oz hits the mat!

Vita grabs the leg!

Ankle lock!

Oz screams!

TODD: VITA HAS THE LEG!

Oz crawls!

He reaches!

His fingers find the bottom rope!

Vita finally breaks!

Oz rolls away!

He grabs the ropes!

Vita charges!

OZ CATCHES HER!

He hoists her into the air!

MILITARY PRESS!

Vita kicks!

Oz's arms buckle!

Vita slips behind him!

REVERSE DDT!

Oz drops!

Vita climbs!

ELBOW DROP!

She connects!

Vita hooks Oz by the head!

She drags him toward the corner!

Oz suddenly grabs her!

HEADBUTT!

Vita staggers!

Oz grabs her by the throat!

CHOKESLAM!

Vita hits hard!

Oz drops to one knee!

He tries to get up.

He can't.

He slams his fist against the mat!

The Chicago crowd starts chanting.

CROWD: OZ! OZ! OZ! OZ!

Oz slowly rises.

Vita rises with him.

They meet in the center.

VITA FOREARM!

OZ HEADBUTT!

VITA FOREARM!

OZ HEADBUTT!

VITA!

OZ!

VITA!

OZ!

Oz's legs buckle!

Vita fires one final forearm!

Oz drops to one knee!

Vita runs!

BIG KNEE!

Oz falls!

TODD: VITA HAS HIM!

Vita grabs Oz by the wrists.

She pulls.

Oz refuses to move.

Vita pulls again!

Oz digs his boots into the canvas!

BAMA T: LOOK AT OZ!

He is shaking.

Sweat pours from his face.

His arms tremble.

Vita screams and pulls again!

Oz is dragged inch by inch toward the ropes!

TODD: SHE'S TRYING TO GET HIM TO THE HOOK!

Oz suddenly turns!

He grabs Vita!

BELLY-TO-BELLY SUPLEX!

Vita crashes down!

Oz falls on top of her!

Both wrestlers lie motionless.

The crowd starts chanting again.

CROWD: OZ! OZ! OZ! OZ!

Vita rolls toward the ropes.

Oz crawls toward the opposite side.

Both pull themselves up.

Vita reaches Oz first!

FOREARM!

Oz stumbles!

Vita grabs him!

SUPLEX!

Oz blocks it!

Vita tries again!

Oz blocks again!

OZ HEADBUTT!

Vita staggers!

Oz wraps his arms around her!

BEARHUG!

BAMA T: OH!

Oz squeezes!

Vita's face turns red!

She fights!

She elbows him!

Once!

Twice!

Three times!

Oz refuses to release!

Vita reaches behind him!

EYE RAKE!

Oz releases!

Vita immediately kicks his knee!

Oz drops!

Vita grabs his head!

KNEE!

KNEE!

KNEE!

Oz collapses!

Vita grabs him by the hair.

She hauls him toward the ropes!

Oz fights!

He grabs the top rope!

Vita pulls!

Oz holds on!

Vita kicks his hands!

Oz loses his grip!

Vita pulls him through the ropes!

Oz lands on the apron!

Vita follows!

TODD: THEY'RE ON THE APRON!

Vita grabs Oz!

She tries to lift him!

OZ ELBOWS!

Vita stumbles!

Oz swings!

VITA DUCKS!

Oz nearly falls!

Vita catches him!

She grabs his waist!

BELLY-TO-BELLY OFF THE APRON!

NO!

Oz blocks it!

He grabs the ropes!

Vita tries again!

Oz blocks!

Vita throws a headbutt!

Oz's grip loosens!

Vita pulls!

OZ FALLS!

He catches the bottom rope!

His body dangles outside!

Vita grabs his legs!

She pulls!

BAMA T: SHE'S GOT HIM!

Vita drags Oz outside the ring!

Oz rolls onto his back!

Vita grabs him!

TODD: SHE'S GOT THE BIG MAN!

Vita pulls Oz upright!

She hooks his arm!

She pulls him toward the nearest meathook!

Oz fights every inch!

He plants his feet!

Vita pulls!

Oz shoves!

Vita falls backward!

Oz drops to one knee!

Vita gets up!

She charges!

OZ CATCHES HER!

SPINEBUSTER!

Oz collapses!

The Chicago crowd erupts!

TODD: OZ HAS FOUND SOMETHING!

Oz crawls toward Vita!

He grabs her!

He tries to pull her up!

His arms shake violently!

Vita throws a punch!

Oz eats it!

Another!

Another!

Oz stays upright!

BAMA T: THIS MAN IS RUNNING ON NOTHING!

Vita throws another!

Oz catches her wrist!

HEADBUTT!

Vita staggers!

Oz grabs her!

CHOKESLAM!

Vita crashes down!

Oz stands over her.

He looks toward the hooks.

The Chicago crowd starts roaring.

TODD: HE'S GOING TO DO IT!

Oz grabs Vita!

He lifts her!

Vita slips free!

She lands behind him!

SUPERKICK!

Oz staggers!

Vita grabs his head!

STUNNER!

Oz drops!

Vita doesn't cover.

She knows there are no pins.

She grabs Oz!

BAMA T: VITA KNOWS WHAT SHE HAS TO DO!

She drags him toward the hooks!

Oz crawls in the other direction!

Vita grabs his ankle!

Oz kicks!

Vita holds on!

Oz kicks again!

Vita holds on!

She grabs the other leg!

She starts dragging him!

Oz claws at the ground!

His fingernails scrape against the mats!

Vita pulls him up!

Oz's feet leave the ground!

Vita turns!

She positions Oz directly beneath the nearest hook!

BAMA T: OH MY GOD!

Oz kicks!

Vita loses her grip!

Oz drops!

He lands on his feet!

Barely!

He swings!

VITA DUCKS!

Oz turns!

VITA WITH A KNEE TO THE FACE!

Oz drops!

Vita grabs the back of his head!

She pulls him up!

Oz is barely conscious!

Vita hooks his arm around her shoulder!

She grabs his waist!

TODD: THIS IS IT!

VITA LIFTS!

Oz's feet leave the ground!

Vita twists!

AND THROWS OZ DIRECTLY TOWARD THE MEATHOOK!

Oz's body swings!

His shirt catches!

The hook digs in!

Oz is lifted completely off the ground!

He hangs suspended from the meathook!

The crowd goes absolutely insane as the bell rings!

Winner by Meathook- Vita Valenteen

Vita immediately drops to the ground.

She is exhausted.

Oz hangs motionless from the hook.

TODD: VITA DID IT!

BAMA T: VITA FREAKIN' VALENTEEN HAS HUNG THE BUTCHER OF CHICAGO!

The referee points toward Vita!

Vita rolls onto her back.

She gasps for air.

The crowd is stunned.

Then—

CROWD: OZ! OZ! OZ! OZ!

Vita looks toward the crowd.

Then toward Oz.

She shakes her head.

BAMA T: Listen to this place!

TODD: They’re still going nuts for Oz!

The crowd isn't booing Vita.

They're chanting for Oz.

Officials rush toward the meathook.

Several members of the Chicago crowd begin climbing over the barricades!

TODD: WAIT A MINUTE!

Fans swarm ringside!

Security tries to stop them!

They can't!

The Chicago faithful pour toward the ring!

BAMA T: THIS IS INSANE!

Fans reach up toward Oz!

Officials finally get him down from the hook!

Oz collapses into the arms of the people surrounding him!

The crowd catches him!

TODD: THE PEOPLE OF CHICAGO ARE HOLDING HIM UP LIKE SOME SORT OF MESSIAH!

Dozens of hands support Oz's battered body.

Oz's arms hang limp.

His head rests against the shoulders of the fans.

Then the crowd starts lifting him higher.

Higher.

And higher.

BAMA T: THEY'RE LIFTING HIM OVER THEIR HEADS!

The Chicago crowd begins carrying Oz away from ringside.

Like a wounded king.

Like a fallen God.

TODD: THEY'RE CROWDSURFING THE BUTCHER OF CHICAGO!

Oz's battered body is passed from fan to fan.

The chants grow louder.

CROWD: OZ! OZ! OZ! OZ!

Vita watches from ringside.

She leans against the ring apron, exhausted.

She looks out at the sea of people carrying Oz through the arena.

She shakes her head.

A tiny smile crosses her face.

BAMA T: Vita Valenteen won the match…

She looks at Oz.

BAMA T: ...but look at who this city chose to carry home!

The camera follows Oz as the crowd carries him through the arena.

His eyes slowly open.

He looks around.

Thousands of people are reaching for him.

Oz raises one trembling arm.

The building explodes.

TODD: THE BUTCHER OF CHICAGO HAS LOST THE GAUNTLET!

The crowd gets louder.

TODD: BUT HE HAS NEVER LOOKED MORE LIKE A SAVIOR!

Oz disappears into the crowd.

The final shot is the sea of Chicago fans carrying him away.

BAMA T: Maybe losing was the best thing that could have happened to him.

TODD: How do you figure?

BAMA T: Because now everybody knows exactly how much Chicago loves their butcher.

THANKS TO ALL OUR WONDERFUL MATCH WRITERS

LIL’ DICKIE LICKY
ATTICUS SILVER

AND TO OUR AMAZING SEGMENT WRITERS

M.C. EDGECRUSHER
MR. OZ
MISS FURRY
CHARLIE NICKLES

& THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO RPed FOR THE SHOW!

Anarchy's closing credits have just begun to roll as a car comes screeching into frame, swerves across several empty parking spaces, and slams to a stop. The door flies open and the Edgecrusher jumps out and sprints towards the arena.

MEMC EC: WORD LIFE!

The arena doors open and the fans begin pouring out. The Edgecrusher stops dead in his tracks. He looks at the fans, then the arena, then at the fans again.

MEMC EC: What... but…

The same oily faced teen from a recent "autograph event" walks by laughing.

Teen: HA-HA! Shows over, Jim Cena.

MEMC EC: I drove all the way from Ohio for this shit?

The arena lights shut off behind him.

MEMC EC: ...Word Life.

Cut to black.]]>
MEMC EC: YO! WORD LIFE! I know Anarchy already started, but don't worry. Your boy the Main Eventer will not miss his main event; I'm on my way to CHICAGO!

He turns the camera towards the windshield.

MEMC EC: I left Ohio like... hours ago, Dawg.

The camera passes a highway sign.

WELCOME TO OHIO

MEMC EC: Motherfucker…

The scene fades out and the into for Anarchy begins.

XWF Anarchy
[Image: vuE1ZV0.png]

09 - 03 - 2026

LIVE FROM UNITED CENTER!

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS

OLEANDYR REITAN
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX

As demanded by Latoya Hixx: “If Storm Goddess wins, they receive a(n Anarchy) tag team Championship (opportunity) at Relentless XI!”

'SPOILED' SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
'TOO FLY' KENNY STYLES
- vs -
SOLOMON KLINE
- vs -
'THE FREAK' TOMMY WISH

FATAL FOUR-WAY MATCH!

PART ONE

MISTER OZ
- vs -
MC EDGECRUSHER

GAUNTLET MATCH - Singles

PART TWO

MISTER OZ
- vs -
The Man Known as @getouttamyringerson

GAUNTLET MATCH - Singles

If Oz loses, he is forced to represent Mark Zuckerberg at Relentless against Scoops McGee

THE GRAND FINALE

MISTER OZ
- vs -
VITA FREAKIN' VALENTEEN

MEATHOOKS! OF! HORROR!

Winner - Jordan Penn

[video]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kqHSGVtfXhc[/video]

OLEANDYR REITAN
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX

As demanded by Latoya Hixx: “If Storm Goddess wins, they receive a(n Anarchy) tag team Championship (opportunity) at Relentless XI!”

Winner- Oleandyr Reitan

Winner - Dom Durango

**ATARA RAVEN vs. MISS FURRY©**

SLAP.

Apathy lands in the bottom corner, just above the sponsor logos.

**ATARA RAVEN vs. MISS FURRY©**

**+ APATHY**

[size=medium][font=Courier New]

'SPOILED' SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
'TOO FLY' KENNY STYLES
- vs -
SOLOMON KLINE
- vs -
'THE FREAK' TOMMY WISH

FATAL FOUR-WAY MATCH!

And again...

And again!

And a figure emerges crawling from the ring like a zombie bursting from the earth, grabbing Tommy Wish and sticking a hand down his throat into a mandible claw!

The figure turns to Summer briefly.

“... Mi amor!”

WINNER - "SPOILED" SUMMER PAGE!

PART ONE

MISTER OZ
- vs -
MC EDGECRUSHER

GAUNTLET MATCH - Singles

Winner by Forfeit- Mr. Oz

PART TWO

MISTER OZ
- vs -
The Man Known as @getouttamyringerson

GAUNTLET MATCH - Singles

If Oz loses, he is forced to represent Mark Zuckerberg at Relentless against Scoops McGee

Winner by DISQUALIFICATION - @getouttamyringerson

THE GRAND FINALE

MISTER OZ
- vs -
VITA FREAKIN' VALENTEEN

MEATHOOKS! OF! HORROR!

Winner by Meathook- Vita Valenteen

Anarchy's closing credits have just begun to roll as a car comes screeching into frame, swerves across several empty parking spaces, and slams to a stop. The door flies open and the Edgecrusher jumps out and sprints towards the arena.

MEMC EC: WORD LIFE!

The arena doors open and the fans begin pouring out. The Edgecrusher stops dead in his tracks. He looks at the fans, then the arena, then at the fans again.

MEMC EC: What... but…

The same oily faced teen from a recent "autograph event" walks by laughing.

Teen: HA-HA! Shows over, Jim Cena.

MEMC EC: I drove all the way from Ohio for this shit?

The arena lights shut off behind him.

MEMC EC: ...Word Life.

Cut to black.]]> <![CDATA[ANARCHY - 08/20/2026]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=50399 Fri, 21 Aug 2026 00:24:06 -0700 'Big' Dick Lichter]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=50399

XWF Anarchy
[Image: vuE1ZV0.png]

08 - 20 - 2026

LIVE FROM MATTHEW KNIGHT ARENA!

EUGENE, OREGON

EL LANDERSON
- vs -
JAY FETU
- vs -
DEENA HIXX
- vs -
KENTUCKY TAGGART

FATAL FOURWAY!

KENNY STYLES
- vs -
BAM MILLER

SINGLES MATCH!

THE EDGECRUSHER
- vs -
SOLOMON KLINE

GRUDGE MATCH!

JOHN BLADE ©
- vs -
CHARLIE NICKLES

FIRST BLOOD MATCH!

THE ATOMIC BAT
- vs -
DOM DURANGO

BACKSTAGE BRAWL!

MR. OZ
- vs -
TOMMY WISH

X-TREME RULEZ MATCH!

CENTURION©
- vs -
KRISTOFFER ARROYO

BRAGGING RIGHTS MATCH!

The winner of this no-holds barred Main Event will receive exclusive bragging rights over the loser from henceforth!

TODD: Folks, welcome to Anarchy and, yes, I said welcome! You didn’t come in late, we just already have all the competitors for our opening match already in the ring!

BAMA: These maniacs couldn’t wait to tear each other a new one!

Landerson is hopping from one foot to the other, warming up, eyes darting to each opponent like he’s trying to figure out who he’s gotta outpace…

Tuck flexes menacingly, looking like he’s in a bad mood and he’s ready to take it out on whoever gets in his way.

But Jay Fetu and Deena Hixx are locked on each other, refusing to look away!

TODD: Lot of apparent animosity between Deena Hixx and Jay Fetu!

BAMA: No doubt! Peter Principle, the GM of Warfare, got impatient with all Jay’s title match demands and decided HE has to defend his #1 contender status to the Blade Championship Blade versus Deena Hixx!

TODD: Deena came just inches from pulling the upset on John Blade at Bad Medicine! Deena was almost the first ever Blade Champion!

BAMA: She wants it badder than bad! But does she want it more than Mister Main Event hisself?

Deena giggles to herself, pulling against the turnbuckle ropes like a car revving its engine before the starting gun.

Fetu looks calm… he points above! The Relentless banner looms overhead!

The bell rings.

**DING! DING! DING!**

EL LANDERSON
- vs -
JAY FETU
- vs -
DEENA HIXX
- vs -
KENTUCKY TAGGART

FATAL FOURWAY!

Deena Hixx explodes forward before the sound has even finished echoing through the arena.

TODD: “AND WE’RE UNDERWAY! DEENA HIXX—”

Deena ducks under a wild swing from Kentucky “Tuck” Taggart, springs off the ropes and—

**LOW DROPKICK!**

—catches Tuck square in the knee.

Tuck staggers.

Deena is already gone.

She darts across the ring, rebounds off the opposite ropes, and comes flying back at him—

**SPINNING HEEL KICK!**

Tuck catches her.

Not cleanly.

But he catches enough of her to stop her momentum.

Deena’s eyes go wide.

Tuck grins.

BAMA: “HA! Look at that! Little race car just ran into a brick wall!”

Tuck lifts Deena off the canvas.

**FALLAWAY SLAM!**

Deena crashes across the mat.

Tuck immediately drops for the cover.

**ONE!**

El Landerson dives across Tuck’s back.

**TWO—NO!**

Landerson yanks Tuck off Deena and immediately begins raining forearms onto the veteran.

Tuck shoves him away.

Landerson charges.

**FLYING LARIAT!**

Tuck ducks.

Landerson flies past him.

Tuck grabs him from behind.

**SIDE RUSSIAN LEG SWEEP!**

Landerson slams down.

Tuck starts to cover—

**SUPERKICK!**

Tuck's head snaps backward.

Jay Fetu stands over him.

TODD: “FETU JUST BLASTED TAGGART!”

Jay looks down at Tuck.

Then he looks around the arena.

Then he points at himself.

Jay: “ONE YEET!”

BAMA: “He’s got a vocabulary of one word and somehow it’s still too many.”

But the crowd is here screaming for Jay Fetu!

YEET! YEET! YEET! YEET!

Jay grabs Landerson as the masked luchador scrambles up.

**NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX!**

Landerson folds over Jay’s hips and gets dumped onto his back.

Jay immediately covers.

**ONE!**

Deena dives in.

**TWO!**

Deena pulls Jay's leg.

**THREE—NO!**

Jay kicks out violently.

Deena rolls away, grinning.

Jay sits up.

They stare at each other.

For just a second, the rest of the match disappears.

Jay points at Deena, fury in his eyes.

Deena points back with a venomous mocking giggle…

TODD: Here we go! Business is picking up!

Jay charges.

Deena disappears to the mat!

Jay crashes into the corner.

Deena rebounds off the ropes—

**HURRICANRANA!**

Jay tumbles across the ring.

Deena scrambles onto him.

**ONE!**

**TWO!**

Jay powers out.

Deena's eyes widen.

She immediately tries again.

**ONE!**

**TWO!**

Jay kicks out again.

Deena nods as though this confirms something.

TODD: “She’s going right back to the same pin!”

BAMA: “She found something that almost worked, Todd. That’s dangerous knowledge for Deena Hixx.”

Jay rolls away.

Deena pursues.

Jay turns—

**RUNNING CORKSCREW FOREARM!**

Deena gets rocked.

Jay catches her on the way down.

**SAMOAN DROP!**

Deena bounces off the canvas.

Jay covers.

**ONE!**

**TWO!**

Landerson breaks it up with a **DIVING CROSSBODY!**

All three competitors go down.

Landerson gets up first.

He looks at Deena.

Then Jay.

Then Tuck, pulling himself up by the turnbuckle…

The little luchador spreads his arms.

BAMA: Landerson’s clear for take-off!

Landerson charges Tuck.

**STINGER SPLASH!**

Tuck gets crushed against the turnbuckles.

Landerson grabs his arm.

**ARM WRENCH!**

Tuck twists free.

Landerson tries another arm drag.

Tuck doesn't move.

Landerson tries again.

Nothing.

He looks confused.

TODD: “Uh-oh. I think Landerson underestimated the strength of Tuck Taggart!”

BAMA: “Boy’s thicker than Colonel Sander’s first biscuit!”

Landerson tries a third time.

Tuck grabs him by the throat.

Todd: “THAT’S NOT HOW AN ARM DRAG WORKS!”

Tuck lifts.

**ATOMIC DROP!**

Landerson lands hard.

Tuck grabs him.

**SWINGING NECKBREAKER!**

Landerson hits.

Tuck hooks the leg.

**ONE!**

**TWO!**

Deena dropkicks Tuck in the back of the head.

Tuck rolls away.

Deena dives onto Landerson.

**ONE!**

**TWO!**

Landerson kicks out!

TODD: Deena tried to pin Landerson after he got hit by Taggart!

BAMA: She’s craftier than a Hobby Lobby, Toddrick! Ain’t no rule that you gotta hit someone before pinnin’ ‘em! Just one fall to a finish!

Deen starts to peel Landerson off the mat by the back his mask…

Jay breaks it up with a double superkick attempt.

Deena ducks.

Landerson doesn't.

**SUPERKICK!**

Landerson falls backward.

Deena stares at Jay.

Jay stares at Deena.

Suddenly Tuck shoves off the ropes, beckoning both Deena and Jay to come at him!

…

Deena suddenly smiles.

She points toward Landerson.

Jay side-eyes Taggart, then nods.

TODD: what’s this?!? It looks like Jay and Deena are forming a temporary alliance!

They both charge.

Deena hits a **LOW DROPKICK** to Tuck’s knee.

Jay follows with a **RUNNING HIP ATTACK!**

Tuck folds.

Deena grabs him.

**WHEELBARROW BULLDOG!**

Jay catches Tuck as he falls.

**SAMOAN WRECKING BALL DOUBLE SUPERKICK!**

Tuck gets blasted from both directions.

He crumples.

Jay covers.

**ONE!**

**TWO!**

Landerson grabs Jay by the ankle.

Jay is dragged backward.

Landerson yanks him off the cover.

Deena immediately covers Tuck.

**ONE!**

**TWO!**

Landerson grabs Deena by the waist and throws her aside.

Deena tumbles across the mat.

Landerson turns around.

Jay is waiting.

**FETU SPEAR!**

**BOOM!**

Landerson gets driven backward.

Jay pounds his chest.

Jay: “YEET!”

Tuck slowly rises, beaten down but not defeated by Jay and Deena’s barrage…

Jay charges again.

Tuck catches him.

**AIRPLANE SPIN!**

Jay is spun around and around.

TODD: “TAGGART HAS FETU SPINNING LIKE A WEATHER VANE!”

Tuck finally lets go.

Jay collapses.

Tuck staggers himself.

Deena comes flying.

**MONKEY FLIP!**

Tuck goes sailing backward.

Deena pops up.

She runs toward him.

**DIVING CROSSBODY!**

**ONE!**

**TWO!**

Jay grabs Deena and pulls her off.

Deena screams.

Deena: “HEY!”

Jay: “MY PIN!”

Deena: “I HAD HIM!”

Jay: “I HAD HIM FIRST!”

TODD: “They’re fighting over who gets to pin the same unconscious man!”

BAMA: “That alliance was fun while it lasted!

Tuck suddenly rises behind them.

He grabs both.

**DOUBLE ATOMIC DROP!**

Jay and Deena both yelp.

Tuck grabs Deena.

**STUMP PULLER!**

Deena screams.

Jay charges.

**CORNER ENZUIGIRI!**

Tuck ducks.

Jay's foot catches Deena.

Deena gets knocked off the apron.

Jay turns around.

Tuck nails him with a **DISCUS PUNCH!**

Jay spins.

Tuck follows with—

**POLISH HAMMER!**

Jay drops.

Tuck covers.

**ONE!**

**TWO!**

Landerson launches himself from the top rope.

**MOONSAULT!**

Tuck rolls away.

Landerson crashes onto Jay.

Landerson bounces up.

Tuck charges him.

Landerson ducks.

**HURRICANRANA!**

Tuck tumbles toward the ropes.

Landerson sees the opening.

He charges.

**LANDERSON SIX ONE-NINE!**

Tuck gets spun around by the ropes.

Landerson climbs onto the apron.

He points at Tuck.

TODD: “LANDERSON IS LOOKING FOR THE FROG SPLASH!”

Landerson climbs.

He reaches the top.

**LANDERSON SPLASH!**

…

NO! Tuck gets his knees up!

Landerson folds around them.

BAMA: I’d give Landerson a 10 on the ‘erson’, but a 2 on the ‘land’ing!

TODD: That was complete gibberish but I somehow know exactly what you mean…

Landerson kicks the mat, cradling his aching gut…

Tuck grabs him.

**KENTUCKYPLEX!**

The running delayed vertical suplex!

Tuck holds him there.

And holds him.

And holds him.

BAMA: “He’s showing him all the scenery!”

Tuck finally drops Landerson.

**BOOM!**

Tuck covers.

**ONE!**

**TWO!**

Deena dives onto Tuck.

**THREE—NO!**

Tuck kicks out.

Deena scrambles up.

Tuck grabs her.

**ABDOMINAL STRETCH!**

And then—

**ELBOW!**

Deena screams.

**ELBOW!**

**ELBOW!**

BAMA: “That’s the Bluegrass Xylophone!”

TODD: “He is literally playing her ribs!”

Deena claws at Tuck's face.

Tuck adjusts his grip.

Deena suddenly twists.

She slips free.

Tuck turns.

Deena charges.

**HURRICANRANA!**

Tuck falls.

Deena hooks both legs.

**ONE!**

**TWO!**

Tuck kicks out.

Deena sits up, stunned.

BAMA: “She really thought that was gonna do it.”

Deena's frustration boils.

She gets up.

Tuck gets up.

Deena hits the ropes.

**LOW DROPKICK!**

Tuck stumbles.

Deena hits the ropes again.

**LOW DROPKICK!**

Tuck stumbles again.

Deena grins.

She hits the ropes a third time.

**LOW DROPKICK!**

Tuck catches her.

Tuck smiles.

TODD: “He got her!”

**INVERTED ATOMIC DROP!**

Deena screams and bounces forward.

Tuck grabs her.

**SNAP DDT!**

Deena plants face-first.

Tuck covers.

**ONE!**

**TWO!**

Jay breaks it up.

He grabs Tuck.

**SUPERKICK!**

Tuck falls.

Jay turns toward Deena.

Deena is already standing.

She runs.

**SPINNING HEEL KICK!**

Jay ducks.

Deena spins directly into Landerson.

**FLYING LARIAT!**

Landerson drops her.

Jay grabs Landerson.

**SAMOAN DROP**

Landerson hits the mat HARD, he rolls outside to catch his breath!

But Jay breaks into a sprint!

**FETU DIVE!**

Jay launches himself through the ropes and wipes Landerson out on the floor.

Tuck climbs to his feet inside.

Deena is getting up.

Tuck grabs her.

**FALLAWAY SLAM!**

Deena hits the mat!

Tuck covers.

**ONE!**

**TWO!**

Jay slides back into the ring.

He grabs Tuck off Deena and knees him in the ribs… He hoists him up….

**NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX!**

Tuck lands.

Jay bridges into a cover...

**ONE!**

**TWO!**

Landerson grabs Jay's ankle and pulls him off.

Jay kicks his foot free from Landerson’s grip!

Landerson climbs onto the apron.

**SPRINGBOARD SOMERSAULT!**

Jay goes to catch him!

…But Landerson connects!

**REVERSE CROSSBODY!**

Jay hits the mat.

Landerson covers.

**ONE!**

**TWO!**

Deena grabs Landerson by the ankle.

Landerson kicks.

Deena ducks.

Landerson kicks again.

Deena catches the leg.

**ARM DRAG!**

Landerson flies.

Deena runs after him.

**DIVING BULLDOG!**

Landerson crashes.

Deena covers.

**ONE!**

**TWO!**

Jay breaks it up.

Deena looks furious.

Jay grins.

Deena: “I HATE YOU!”

Jay: “YEET.”

BAMA: Shakespeare couldn’t write a better rivalry.

They start throwing hands.

Deena's punches aren't doing much, peppering Fetu’s jaw...

Jay’s haymakers are heavier, but Deena dips, ducks, and dives around the strikes!

She ducks.

He swings.

She ducks.

He swings again.

She ducks again.

TODD: “Fetu cannot catch her!”

BAMA: “And Deena appears to have no intention of doing anything except making him angry!”

Jay gets frustrated, swinging for the fences with an overhand right…

Deena ducks, Jay slips by! Deena goes to dive on his back…

But Jay baited her!

**SUPERKICK!**

…NO!

Deena ducks.

The kick catches Tuck.

Tuck reels, but remains standing!

TODD: Holy shit, that kick is a shotgun blast! How is Tuck tanking through that!

BAMA: A lifetime of slap fighting, Tuck’s jaw is sturdy like goddamn stone pillar.

Jay's eyes widen in surprise.

Tuck turns.

Jay charges.

**FETU SPEAR!**

Tuck leapfrogs him!

Jay goes underneath.

Deena runs up behind Tuck.

**HURRICANRANA!**

…No! Tuck catches her.

Deena kicks wildly.

Tuck lifts her.

Jay charges.

Deena twists.

Tuck accidentally throws Deena directly into Jay!

**CRASH!**

All three fall.

Landerson watches.

His eyes widen.

He points at himself, then to the crowd!

BAMA: “Landersonjust realized he might be the only conscious man left! His time is now!”

Landerson climbs the ropes.

He leaps.

**MOONSAULT!**

Everyone moves.

Landerson crashes into nothing.

TODD: Landerson’s time came and went…

Tuck grabs Landerson.

**CORN CRACKER!**

The Polish Hammer sends Landerson stumbling.

Tuck grabs his wrist.

**BLUEGRASS XYLOPHONE!**

The abdominal stretch!

But before Tuck can begin his rib-pounding symphony, Jay blasts him with a **SUPERKICK!**

Tuck falls backward.

Jay covers.

**ONE!**

**TWO!**

Deena dives.

**THREE—NO!**

She yanks Jay off.

Jay rolls onto his back.

Deena climbs over him.

**ONE!**

**TWO!**

Jay throws her off.

He gets up.

Deena gets up.

They stare at each other.

Then both look at Tuck.

Then both look at Landerson.

A mutual understanding.

Jay points at Landerson.

Deena nods.

They charge together.

Jay catches Landerson.

**SAMOAN DROP!**

Deena comes off the ropes.

**DEENA WIZARD!**

No!

Landerson ducks.

Deena's knee catches Jay!

Jay collapses.

Deena freezes.

Landerson rolls behind her.

**HURRICANRANA PIN!**

**ONE!**

**TWO!**

Deena kicks out.

Landerson springs up.

Deena springs up.

Tuck springs up.

Jay springs up.

For one glorious moment, all four are standing.

The crowd rises to their feet!

TODD: Holy cow! What an opener!

Then everyone attacks everyone.

Landerson nails Tuck.

Tuck punches Jay.

Jay kicks Landerson.

Deena kicks Jay.

Tuck clotheslines Deena.

Landerson hits Tuck with a flying lariat.

Jay hits Landerson with a superkick.

Deena hits Jay with a spinning heel kick.

Tuck hits Deena with a discus punch.

The four competitors collapse in a heap.

The crowd erupts.

Todd: “THIS IS ABSOLUTELY CHAOTIC!”

Bama: “It’s beautiful! Like a dang ol’ monster truck ballet! They should have sent a very drunk poet with a jug of moonshine to call this!”

Slowly, everyone begins moving.

Jay crawls toward the ropes.

Deena grabs the middle rope.

Landerson pulls himself upright.

Tuck gets to his feet first.

He sees Landerson.

The masked luchador turns.

Too late.

Tuck charges.

**CORNER STINGER SPLASH!**

Landerson gets crushed.

Tuck grabs him.

**KENTUCKYPLEX!**

Landerson gets lifted.

Jay sees it.

He charges.

Tuck releases Landerson.

Jay nails Tuck with—

**SUPERKICK!**

Tuck's head snaps back.

Landerson is falling.

Jay catches him.

He looks toward the ropes.

Then back at Tuck.

Then at Landerson.

Jay's eyes light up.

[purple]Jay: “YEET.”

Jay throws Landerson toward the ropes.

Landerson rebounds.

Jay goes for another superkick.

Landerson ducks.

Jay spins.

Tuck catches him.

**SIDE RUSSIAN LEG SWEEP!**

Jay hits.

Tuck covers.

**ONE!**

**TWO!**

Deena breaks it up.

She immediately climbs onto Tuck.

**ONE!**

**TWO!**

Tuck kicks out.

Deena rolls away.

Tuck rises.

Deena hits the ropes.

Tuck catches her.

**STUMP PULLER!**

Deena screams.

Jay grabs Tuck from behind.

**SUPERKICK!**

Tuck drops.

Jay covers.

**ONE!**

**TWO!**

Landerson breaks it up.

Jay shoves Landerson away.

Landerson rebounds.

**LOU THESZ PRESS!**

Jay hits the mat.

Landerson starts hammering him.

Deena jumps onto Landerson's back.

Landerson falls.

Tuck grabs Deena.

Deena kicks.

Tuck holds on.

Jay rises.

Jay charges.

Tuck moves.

Jay accidentally hits Landerson!

Landerson goes sprawling.

Tuck laughs.

Jay turns.

Tuck charges.

Jay ducks.

Tuck goes through the ropes.

Jay looks at Deena.

Deena looks at Jay.

Neither trusts the other.

Then Tuck climbs back in.

He points at both of them.

Jay smiles.

Deena smiles.

They charge Tuck.

Tuck ducks.

Jay and Deena collide.

Tuck grabs both in a grapple…

Grits his teeth…

And HOISTS them both off their feet in powerslam position!

TODD: Oh my GOD! The strength of Kentucky Taggart!

**DOUBLE FALLAWAY SLAM!**

Jay and Deena crash.

Tuck turns toward Landerson.

Landerson is crawling toward the ropes.

Tuck grabs him.

Landerson tries to fight free.

Tuck plants his feet.

He grabs Landerson around the waist.

Landerson struggles.

Tuck roars.

**KENTUCKYPLEX!**

He lifts Landerson high into the air.

But instead of dropping him backward—

Tuck pivots.

He marches toward the ropes.

Landerson's eyes widen.

Todd: “WAIT! WHAT IS TAGGART DOING?!”

Tuck gives one final heave.

**SUH-MACK!**

Landerson is launched over the top rope!

The little luchador sails through the air and crashes to the floor!

BAMA: “HE JUST SUH-MACKED HIM INTO NEXT WEEK!”

Tuck turns around.

Jay Fetu is standing.

Tuck barely has time to see him.

**SUPERKICK!**

**CRACK!**

Tuck's head snaps backward.

His body goes limp.

Jay falls onto his knees.

Then onto his stomach.

He crawls.

One hand.

Then the other.

Toward Tuck.

TODD: “FETU! FETU HAS THE OPENING!”

Jay reaches Tuck.

He rolls him over.

Hooks the leg.

**ONE!**

**TWO!**

Jay's eyes are half closed.

He's exhausted.

He's got it—

**DEENA WIZARD!**

**WHAM!**

Deena's knee catches Jay square in the head!

Jay is knocked completely off the cover.

His body slides across the canvas and through the ropes, tumbling out onto the floor!

TODD: “DEENA WIZARD!”

Bama: “SHE JUST DEENA-WIZARDED FETU RIGHT OUTTA THE RING!”

She looks at Jay.

Then looks at Tuck.

A stunned grin spreads across her face.

She dives onto Tuck.

Hooks both legs.

**ONE!**

**TWO!**

**THREE!**

**DING! DING! DING!**

Winner: Deena Hixx

The bell rings.

Deena immediately sits upright.

She stares at the referee.

The referee points toward her.

TODD: “DEENA HIXX HAS DONE IT! DEENA HIXX HAS WON THE FATAL FOUR-WAY!”

BAMA: “SHE STOLE IT!”

TODD: “SHE ABSOLUTELY STOLE IT!”

BAMA: “TAGGART SUH-MACKED LANDERSON OVER THE ROPES! FETU CAUGHT TAGGART WITH THE SUPERKICK! FETU WAS CRAWLING TO THE COVER! AND DEENA HIXX CAME OUT OF NOWHERE!”

Deena rolls off Tuck and gets to her feet.

The crowd is roaring.

She looks toward the outside.

Jay Fetu is pulling himself up by the apron.

He sees Deena.

She points at herself.

Then points at Jay.

Then makes a little blade gesture over her head.

Jay's expression says everything.

He is furious.

Deena beams.

Bama: “Oh, this is gonna be fun.”

Todd: “LESS THAN TWO WEEKS FROM NOW, DEENA HIXX WILL FACE JAY FETU WITH HIS BLADE CHAMPIONSHIP NUMBER-ONE-CONTENDER STATUS ON THE LINE!”

Todd: “AND TONIGHT, SHE JUST BEAT HIM!”

Bama: “Technically, she beat Taggart.”

Todd: “AFTER KNOCKING FETU OUT OF THE MATCH!”

Bama: “That part counts.”

Charlie Nickles walked through the arena’s parking garage slowly, his gear already on, his jaw set tight. He came through the arena access door and just stopped, right there in the middle of all that concrete, and let the weight of the place settle on him.

When he finally spoke, his voice carried the roughness of a man who'd been screaming into a pillow for months on-end.

"Fuck," he said, just to hear a word break the silence. "Fuck, fuck, FUCK!"

He reached up and ran both hands through his hair, gripping at the roots like he could tear the thoughts right out of his head. But they wouldn't come loose. They never did.

"It’s been months," he continued, his eyes tracking across the parking garage like he was seeing it through different light—like he was seeing the night it happened layered underneath the present. "For months I've been carrying this. Months since my sister walked into a garage just like this one. Just. Like. This. One."

He started walking again, deeper into the concrete belly of the arena, his footsteps echoing in a way that made the space feel even more hollow.

"And you want to know the worst part? The thing that actually guts me?" His voice cracked on the edge of a laugh that wasn't quite sane. [nick]"It's not even that Jordan Penn did it. Yeah, he put his hands on her. Yeah, he ended her career in this fucking concrete dungeon because that's the kind of coward he is—operates best when there's no crowd, no camera, just a woman who trusted him. Who trusted both of us."

He stopped under one of the flickering lights, let it cast shadows across his face.

"The worst part is that I should've seen it coming. I should've known what he was. We were brothers in this business, and I was too fucking blind, too caught up in our own success to see the treacherous leech standing next to me. Every night I carry that. Every. Single. Night."

He looked directly at the camera, and there was something raw there—something that had been bleeding beneath the surface all this time.

"So here I am. Back in a parking garage. Back where the worst night of my sister's life happened. Back where mine did too. And you know what I realized? Jennie's never getting her life back. Never. But I can make sure Jordan Penn understands what it costs. What it actually fucking costs."

His voice dropped lower, becoming something more dangerous in its quietness.

"At Relentless, we tie that rope around our wrists and you don't leave that ring until I'm done with you. Not before. Not ever before. You're going to feel what she felt. You're going to understand that when you stepped into that garage, you didn't just end a career: you made a promise. You promised that someday, somewhere, it would come back to haunt you."

He turned his back to the camera for a moment, shoulders heaving with breath.

[nick]"I should've stopped him then. That's the part that eats me alive. I should've known. I should’ve fucking known!

....

But I know now.

And at Relentless, parking garages aren't going to save you. Your old mask won't even save you. I'm coming for you with everything I have…everything Jennie never got to finish.

At Relentless I will deliver your Scarlet Verdict, Penn- signed, sealed, and delivered."

He didn't turn back around. Just walked deeper into the garage, his silhouette disappearing into the fluorescent haze, leaving only the echo of his footsteps behind.

As “Bigger Than Everything” hits, Kenny walks onto the stage wearing his signature shades with a confident grin. He takes a moment to soak in the crowd before making his way to the ring, slapping hands with fans along the barricade. At ringside, he jumps onto the apron and springboards over the top rope before climbing the second turnbuckle and throwing his arms out with a smile.

Todd: It’s TOO FLY Kenny Styles making his XWF debut tonight! This kid’s got his eyes on the prize, but he’s in for a serious test tonight against the one and only Bam Miller.

Bama: I’ll give him this much: the rookie wasn’t lying about rizz! He really is a fly guy, look at how he’s whipped this crowd into a frenzy with nothing more than his aura!

Todd: Kenny’s definitely got the charisma and he’s got the looks to cut it in the business: but we’re about to find out if he has the in-ring chops!

As “Cut the Cord” by Shinedown blasts through the arena, Bam Miller storms through the curtain wearing a sleeveless black hoodie over his black trunks, black knee pads, and black boots. His hood stays up as he keeps his eyes locked on the ring, muttering to himself while ignoring the crowd.

Bam marches straight to ringside, slaps the apron with both hands, and steps over the top rope. Inside the ring, he climbs onto the second turnbuckle and throws both middle fingers into the air before dropping back to the mat. He pulls his hood down, paces the ring like a caged animal, rolls his neck, and shadowboxes while staring a hole through his opponent.

Todd: Tonight we finally get the long-awaited return of Bam Miller to the XWF!

Bama: And it’s against a green-as-grass rookie! You’ve gotta wonder if Bam pulled some strings back stage to get this matchup! You know he’s owed more than a few favors from more than a few people in this company!

Todd: Bam Miller isn’t that kind of guy, Bama! He’s no corporate stooge, and he don’t give a damn about manipulating management! All he wants to do is KICK SOME ASS, which is why he’s such a fan-favorite across the entire industry!

As the referee finishes the final checks, Bam smirks and mouths, “Come on…” The moment the bell rings, he charges forward looking to turn the match into a fight.

KENNY STYLES
- vs -
BAM MILLER

SINGLES MATCH!

The bell sounds and Bam explodes forward, immediately trying to turn this into his kind of fight. He swings a heavy European uppercut right for Kenny's jaw, but Kenny slips it, backpedaling hard. Bam doesn't respect the distance. He follows up with a knife-edge chop aimed at Kenny's chest, and this one connects with a sickening CRACK that echoes through the arena.

Todd: Bam rushes out of the gate with violence! He’s trying to turn this into a knock-em down, drag-em-out brawl early!

Bama: IIIITTTT’SSSS MILLER TIME BABBBBYYY!

Kenny gasps but pivots off the impact, using the momentum to slide around Bam's body. He plants himself and fires back with a sharp dropkick that catches Bam in the lower back. Bam stumbles forward into the ropes but doesn't go down. He turns back around, jaw clenched, and charges again.

This time Kenny's ready. He unleashes a superkick aimed at Bam's skull, but Bam ducks under it and grabs Kenny around the waist. Full nelson slam attempt. Kenny wrenches his hips and throws his body weight forward, landing on his feet behind Bam. Kenny follows up immediately with a tornado DDT, spinning around him and taking him down hard!

Bam's head snaps against the mat. He rolls through it, pushing himself up faster than you'd expect for someone his size. Kenny doesn't wait. He bounces off the ropes and comes back with a springboard crossbody, but Bam catches him mid-air. Catches him clean. He adjusts his grip and drives Kenny backward with a belly-to-belly suplex that nearly folds him in half!

Bama: That’s a veteran suplex from Bam! He knew exactly what he needed to do to slow down Kenny’s momentum, and he did it!

Todd: Miller seems to have an answer for everything Kenny tries to do!

Bama: That’s what years in this business will give ya, Todd! Really bad CTE, and really good fight IQ!

Kenny crashes down and his back flares up. But he's been trained to fight through the pain. As Bam stalks over, Kenny springs up and throws an enzuigiri. Bam blocks it with his forearm but the impact still drives him sideways. Kenny uses that opening to grab Bam's arm and yank him into a snapmare, then immediately throws a knee strike at his spine.

Bam grunts. He rolls with it and comes up on one knee, shaking his head. Blood's starting to show at the corner of his mouth. He wipes it away with the back of his hand and actually smiles.

Todd: Bam Miller might be more experienced, but Kenny Styles isn’t backing down at all!

Bama: Well, why would he? He’s TOO FLY for that!

Bam gets up and circles Kenny now, more measured. They lock up in the middle of the ring. Collar and elbow. Bam uses his size and strength to drive Kenny backward. They hit the corner hard. The ref calls for the break. Bam releases and immediately throws a forearm at Kenny's temple. Kenny slides out of the way and counters with a chop of his own, then another. He's trying to keep Bam at range now, understanding that straight power plays favor the veteran.

But Bam won't stay at range. He closes the distance with a headbutt that Kenny barely evades. Uses the momentum to duck past and get behind Bam. He grabs his arm, thinking about a submission, but Bam throws an elbow backward that catches the side of Kenny's head. Kenny lets go and backs off, seeing stars for a moment.

Todd: Kenny hesitated, and it cost him! That’s a rookie mistake that I’m sure he will learn from!

Bama: Unless Bam Miller keeps throwing elbows like that…then Kenny might not remember anything from this match!

Bam turns and comes forward with a step-up knee strike. Kenny steps back and then forward, countering with a Pele kick that's absolutely picture-perfect. It catches Bam flush on the jaw. His head whips around. He goes down on one knee, but one knee only. His hand's braced on the mat and he's still breathing hard through his nose.

Kenny doesn't give him time to recover. He runs the ropes and comes back with a suicide dive. Bam sees it coming and rolls out of the way. Kenny crashes into the apron and crumples on the outside. Bam drags himself up using the ropes and looks down at Kenny with something close to respect in his eyes. He steps out to the floor and picks Kenny up by the hair, then whips him hard into the steel post.

Todd: That’s gotta hurt!

Bama: Kenny’s going to be feeling that in the morning- every morning, for the next five years!

Todd: They don’t practice that in wrestling school!

Kenny's shoulder takes the brunt of it. Pain shoots through his whole arm. Bam follows up with a European uppercut on the outside that rings Kenny's bell. He picks Kenny up and throws him back in the ring, then follows him inside.

Kenny's getting up slowly. Bam grabs him and hits a stalling German suplex. Holds it. Holds it. Then bridges hard into a pin!

Todd: This could be it right here! The rookie’s run may have already come to it’s end!

1!

2!!

Kenny gets a shoulder up!

Bama: Or not! This Kenny kid’s got some spunk!

Bam doesn't complain. He just keeps working. He goes for a crossface, trying to lock it in tight. Kenny's fighting, pushing his hips backward to create space. He manages to get his hands underneath Bam's and break the grip. Rolls over and creates separation.

They're both breathing heavy now. Both covered in sweat. Kenny's shoulder is throbbing. Bam's been hit with everything the kid's got and he's still standing tall..

Kenny gets to his feet first. Bam follows a half-second later. They stare at each other across the ring. This time Bam doesn't charge. This time it's Kenny who makes the first move. He throws a hurricanrana attempt, but Bam counters it into a lawn dart, throwing Kenny toward the turnbuckle.

Kenny plants his feet and doesn't hit it. He stops himself on the middle rope and springs backward with a double stomp aimed at Bam's chest. The impact sends Bam stumbling. Kenny lands and immediately throws a sling blade. Bam goes down. Kenny's feeling it now. He hits the ropes and comes back with a springboard forearm. The Gate Closed. Bam's arms are up but the impact is massive!

Kenny hooks the leg!

1!

2!!

Bam kicks out with authority!

Bama: It’s gonna take the kid more than that to put an end to Miller Time!

Todd: But he’s getting close! Too Fly Kenny Styles is taking Bam to his limit, in his debut no less!

Bam rolls out of the ring to get some distance. Kenny considers going after him. Then something changes in Kenny's expression. He runs the ropes and launches himself over the top with a suicide dive! Bam tries to sidestep but Kenny's got too much height. They both go down on the concrete!

Bama: THEY KILLED KENNY!

Todd: Kenny may have just killed himself, and his opponent with that suicide dive!

Bama: We might be looking at a draw here, folks, if neither competitor can compete any further!

The two lay in the wreckage of their bodies for an uncomfortable amount of time as the referee comes out to check on them. The fans in the front row seem genuinely concerned…

Until Bam gets up!

He's limping slightly but moving. He picks Kenny up and leans him against the barricade, then winds up for a big forearm shot. Kenny ducks it and the sound of Bam's forearm hitting steel is like a gunshot. He pulls his arm back, clearly in pain. Kenny capitalizes. He grabs Bam and whips him back into the ring, follows him in and keeps the pressure.

Todd: A misfire from Bam Miller! This could be the opening Kenny needed!

Bama: The rookie had better not blow it! Bam Miller doesn’t make the same mistake twice!

Bam's down on a knee. Kenny hits the ropes and comes back with a dropkick that sends Bam into the corner. Kenny follows up and presses Bam against the turnbuckles, driving shoulder strikes into his ribs. Five of them. Six. Seven. The ref steps in and gives Kenny a warning.

Kenny backs off, hands up. Bam lumbers out of the corner. They lock up again. Bam tries a tie-up into a suplex, but Kenny wrenches it and turns it into a brainbuster. Bam lands hard on his head and shoulders. The back of his skull bounces off the mat.

It looks like he's not getting up. His eyes are glassy.

Bama: What the hell is this Kenny kid doing?! He has Bam where he wants him! He should be going for the pin!

Todd: He’s not going for the pin, Bama….I think he’s going for the finish!

Kenny climbs the turnbuckles. He's got the crowd now. They're on their feet. Bam's still on his back, still stunned. Kenny leaps. He's got all the height in the world.

The Too Fly UFO Splash comes down like a meteor! Bam's chest absorbs the full impact.

Kenny stays down and hooks the leg. The ref's counting!

1!

2!!

Bam's arm shoots up! Just barely! Just in time!

Todd: Bam Miller kicks out! Miller Time isn’t over it!

Bama: Too Fly Kenny Styles took to the skies, but even that wasn’t enough to keep the veteran down! You have to wonder, does Kenny have any move in his arsenal that can put Miller down for a 3 count?!

Kenny slams the mat in frustration but doesn't lose focus. He pulls Bam up and backs him into the corner. He's setting something up. He grabs Bam's arms, hooks both of them. He's going for the finish. The First Class Styles Clash! But Bam breaks free and throws a headbutt backward that catches Kenny's nose.

Kenny staggers back, eyes watering. Bam turns and throws a Bullseye. The buckshot lariat. Kenny ducks under it. Comes around and grabs Bam's arm, wrenching it into a hammerlock. He spins and wraps his leg around Bam's face, driving him down with a tornado DDT into a compromised position.

Bam's chest is heaving. His eyes are closing.

Kenny gets up and shakes out his legs. The adrenaline is pumping through him now. He looks down at Bam before he walks over and grabs both of Bam's arms. He's going back to the finish!

The First Class!

He hooks both arms. He pulls Bam up to his feet. Bam's stumbling, out on his feet. Kenny positions himself and drives forward with everything he's got. Bam's face meets the mat with brutal force!

Kenny hooks both legs. The ref drops down!

1!

2!!

3!!!

Winner - Kenny Styles

Bama: He did it! He did it! The rookie actually did it! Kenny Styles, in his first ever XWF match, takes down Bam Miller in impressive fashion!

Todd: Bam Miller put up a serious fight, but at the end of the match, the rookie had more in his tank than the vet! The sky might be the limit for Too Fly Kenny Styles if he keeps wrestling like this!

The arena lights drop, and a cheap beat straight out of FL Studio starts blasting over the speakers. MC Edgecrusher “explodes” through the curtain with a microphone in one hand and heads toward the ring.

MC EC: YO! Salamander Klingon! You been running yo’ mouth, dawg. Tonight, we settle this shit on the streets!

The crowd boos, and MC EC nods approvingly.

MC EC: Damn right!

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 Solomon’s career, namely making people eat finishers and kendo sticks.

MIDDLE FINGERS UP, IF YOU DON’T GIVE A FUCK!

Solomon Kline appears onstage astride his blue Harley-Davidson motorcycle! Flames rise all around him. He rides his bike down the ramp, and the flames subside, replaced by snow-like pyro raining from the ceiling. He circles the ring, stopping at each side to raise his middle fingers as the lyrics denote and encouraging the crowd to join him.
As he reaches the final side of the ring, he parks his bike on its 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 arena, taking in the cheers of the crowd before dropping back down. The bell rings to start the match. MC EC “charges” toward Kline, still holding the microphone.

THE EDGECRUSHER
- vs -
SOLOMON KLINE

GRUDGE MATCH!

MC EC: WORD L—

Kline levels him with a clothesline, sending the Edgecrusher flipping through the air and crashing onto his stomach. The microphone flies out of his hand and lands outside the ring with a massive thud. MC EC raises a single finger toward the referee.

MC EC: Time out, dawg.

Kline grabs MC EC by the ankle and drags him into the center of the ring as he screams.

MC EC: REF! TIME OUT! I CALLED A TIME OUT!

The referee quickly explains that professional wrestling does not have time-outs.

MC EC: The fuck kinda sport is this?

Kline pulls the Edgecrusher back to his feet. EC throws a desperate punch. Kline blocks it. MC EC tries another. Blocked. EC attempts a kick. This time, Kline catches his foot, and MC EC freezes.

MC EC: Can we talk about this?

Solomon launches him across the ring with a leg-and-head Tazplex. The Edgecrusher crashes down and rolls out of the ring. The crowd begins to chant.

Crowd: EC SUCKS! EC SUCKS!

The Edgecrusher gets back to his feet and points at a random fan in the crowd.

MC EC: That’s MC EC to you!

He turns around to find Kline standing directly behind him. Kline grabs the Edgecrusher and whips him back into the ring. The same trash beat MC EC used for his entrance starts playing again. The kindly old Mr. Miller begins slowly walking toward the ring for an old-fashioned run-in. Kline drags the Edgecrusher back to the center of the ring by his ankle.

MC EC: HURRY UP!

Kline lays the boots to the Edgecrusher.

MC EC: HE’S KILLING ME! HURRY UP!

Mr. Miller notices a shiny new penny and begins the long process of bending down to pick it up. In the ring, Kline sends MC EC into the ropes and plants him with a vicious spinebuster. The Edgecrusher lies completely motionless. Outside, Mr. Miller has stopped yet again, this time to tell a random fan a long, rambling story about how nobody wants to work anymore.

Kline could easily pin MC EC. Instead, he seems to be having too much fun dishing out the beating and lifts him back to his feet. Solomon shoves MC EC backward and offers him a free shot. The Edgecrusher looks toward the crowd, straightens his chains, throws up a series of random hand signs, and swings with all his might. Kline ducks. MC EC spins completely around and lands on his ass.

MC EC: Delete that from the broadcast.

Mr. Miller has finally made it to ringside, but he stops when he sees a kid who reminds him of his grandson. He uses the penny he just found to perform the old coin-behind-the-ear trick. Suddenly, someone blows past him. Charging in from somewhere backstage—it’s Perry Pennyweather! The Edgecrusher gets back to his feet and finds one angry man charging toward him from outside the ring and another waiting for him inside it.

MC EC: TACTILE RETREAT, MR. MILLER!

MC Edgecrusher rolls out of the ring and vanishes into the crowd. Perry slides into the ring, immediately slides back out, and chases the Edgecrusher through the arena. The referee and Solomon stand in the center of the ring, staring at each other in confusion. Mr. Miller finally enters the ring as the referee begins a fast count just to get this shit over with. He calls for the bell and declares Solomon Kline the winner by count-out.

Winner - Solomon Kline

Mr. Miller steps up to Kline with one hand in his pocket... and pulls out his wallet. He begins showing Solomon and the referee pictures of his grandkids as the scene fades out.

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 starts running straight down towards the ring-

But someone’s behind him!

The crowd gaps in horror!

IT’S CHARLIE NICKLES!

He grabs John Blade by the collar of his shirt and flips him around, before smacking him with a backhand!

Bama: Charlie Nickles didn’t want to wait any longer- and frankly, I didn’t either! Let’s get this first blood match started!

Todd: Bama, Charlie just attacked the Blade Championship Blade Champion, John Blade, from behind! He snuck up on him! There’s no honor in that!

Bama: There’s no honor in Charlie Nickles, either!

John fires back a few stiff shots, but Charlie eats them before kicking John in the gut and forcing him to eat the ramp with an old-school DDT! Then, Charlie grabs John by the collar of his shirt once again before throwing him into the ring. The referee calls for the opening bell when Charlie slides in behind the wounded Blade Championship Blade Champion!

JOHN BLADE ©
- vs -
CHARLIE NICKLES

FIRST BLOOD MATCH!

Charlie stalks John patiently, licking his lips- fingers twitching, as he waits for John to rise.

And as soon as John gets up to his feet…

Charlie hits him with a big boot to the gut! John keels over, and Charlie traps him into a DEVIL HOOK DROP!

A DOUBLE-ARM DDT STRAIGHT INTO THE MAT!

Bama: Charlie is getting straight to business here tonight!

Todd: But finishing moves won’t be enough tonight, Bama! He has to make the Surgeon of Thug bleed, and John Blade has thick skin! Especially around his head!

Bama: That’s probably why Charlie is reaching for that Blade Championship Blade tucked into John’s waistband!

Todd: Oh no…

Sure enough, Charlie was going through John’s pockets as the Blade Champion lay flat on the mat. After a quick body search, Charlie pulls out the Blade Championship Blade- and he starts showing it off to the crowd.

An eerie silence breaks out within the crowd…

But it’s quickly replaced by chants of ‘FUCK EM UP, CHARLIE! FUCK EM UP!’.

Todd: Oh God, these fans are chewing him on! He’s about to cut open John Blade with John Blade’s OWN Blade Championship Blade! These people are sick and twisted! John Blade is a hero, he’s an icon, he’s loved by kids all across the world…

Bama: And now, Charlie’s fixing to gut him like a pig! With his own knife!

The referee yells at Charlie to stop, but Nickles threatens him with the blade- and the ref immediately backs off. Then, Charlie looks down at John with a wicked, wolfish grin.

The Nickleman pulls John Blade up to a seated position by the collar of his shirt, before holding the Blade Championship Blade high up in the air….

Todd: Parents, I beg of you, cover the eyes of your children!

Then Charlie brings the blade down in one smooth thrust, jabbing it into the forehead of John Blade before dragging it across the width of his face. Blood immediately begins streaming as John starts screaming.

Winner - Charlie Nickles

Charlie releases the blade, letting it clatter to the mat as John withers in pain, a pool of blood beneath him. The referee hesitantly walks over to Charlie to raise his hand, but Charlie pushes him off, before simply stepping through the ropes and walking up the ramp with no further fanfare.

Todd: I can’t believe what we just saw! We just saw a man take a dagger to the face on live TV!

Bama: What we just saw was a message, Todd! A message to Jordan Penn about what Charlie has in store for him at Relentless!

Todd: Message received!

The camera comes alive backstage to absolute chaos.

A production assistant sprints past with a headset dangling from his neck.

A road case comes flying through the air behind him.

**CRAAAAAAAAASH!**

The case explodes against a concrete wall.

TODD: “WE ARE LIVE! We were told this was supposed to be a backstage confrontation, but I don't think anyone anticipated—”

**WHAM!**

Dom Durango barrels into frame and drives Vita Valenteen through a stack of cardboard boxes!

BAMA: “Well, there’s your confrontation, Toddricl.”

TODD: “Folks, there’s no entrances for this match! No feeling out! We’re just in it! Put the graphic up!”

THE ATOMIC BAT
- vs -
DOM DURANGO

BACKSTAGE BRAWL!

BAMA: Update that graphic, Toddy baby! The Atomic Bat unmasked herself this week, we all know it’s…

VITA FREAKIN’ VALENTEEN
- vs -
DOM DURANGO

BACKSTAGE BRAWL!

Vita rolls through the wreckage, springs upright, and immediately eats a **MASSIVE FOREARM** from Dom!

She staggers through a collection of chairs and tables to the floor!

“WHERE’S YOUR HOPE NOW?”

BAMA: “Yeesh. That Dom fella gives me the heebies AND the jeebies!”

TODD: “Dom Durango promised to BREAK Vita’s body AND mind tonight… to kill the hope she represents to all of her fans!”

Dom parts the wreckage to the prone Valenteen, grabbing her by the throat.

…Vita’s lifted… and she smile!

She kicks him square between the legs.

Dom’s eyes go wide.

BAMA: “HAHAHAHA! VITA’S A SPITFIRE!”

TODD: “Dom claimed he’s the thing that goes bump in the night! But true to form, as heroic as ever, Vita refuses to back down!”

Vita slips free, grabs a nearby folding chair, and **CRACKS** Dom across the back!

Dom drops to one knee.

Vita swings again!

**CRACK!**

TODD: Vita chipping away at the much larger Dom swing-by-swing!

BAMA: Chipping away like he’s a dang ol’ redwood!

Dom catches the chair on the third swing.

He yanks it out of her hands and folds it over her skull!

**CLANG!**

Vita slaps down on the floor!

TODD: “That chair is practically wrapped around her!”

Dom grabs Vita by the hair and hurls her through the open doorway of a catering area!

Vita lands across a table.

Platters of sandwiches, fruit, and desserts go flying.

BAMA: “Somebody save the pie! I thought I could grab a slice during Oz - vs - Wish…”

Dom storms after her.

Vita grabs a metal serving tray.

Dom swings!

**BONG!**

The tray catches him right in the face.

Vita immediately follows with a **RUNNING KNEE**! Dom staggers backwards onto the table!

Vita doesn’t think, she just sees Dom on the table and kicks it into another fear!

She leaps onto the catering table and dives off with a twisting…

**ELBOW DROP!**

…

NO! Dom rolls away.

Vita crashes through the table.

**BOOOOOOM!**

TODD: “SHE JUST BROKE THE CATERING TABLE!”

BAMA: “And ruined MY dinner!”

Dom rises from the debris, wipes blood from his mouth...

…and smiles.

“I thought bats were blind….”

He grabs a nearby fire extinguisher.

“Let’s fix that….”

Vita's eyes widen.

**FSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!**

A cloud of white chemical foam blasts Vita directly in the face!

She stumbles blindly.

Dom charges.

**BOOOOOOM!**

He tackles her through a drywall partition!

The two disappear into the next room.

TODD: “THEY JUST WENT THROUGH THE WALL!”

BAMA: “Cheaper than remodeling!”

Dom rains down punches.

Vita covers up.

Dom reels back a fist to punch THROUGH Vita’s guard…

When Vita suddenly snakes an arm around his neck and twists!

**HEADSCISSORS!**

She rolls backward, sending the much larger Dom tumbling across the floor.

Dom clumsily struggles to reach a vertical base surrounded by all this extraneous equipment!

Vita scrambles onto a desk.

She runs across it toward her opponent!

**FLYING CROSSBODY!**

…

NO!

Dom catches her!

TODD: “Oh no!”

Dom military-presses Vita over his head!

He turns—

—and throws her through the glass window of a production office!

**KRAAAAAAAAAASH!**

Vita lands amid monitors and office chairs.

Dom stalks toward the broken window.

“STAY DOWN, YOU VAMPIRE BITCH.”

TODD: What absolute brutality by Dom Durango!

BAMA: Vita may be a vampire, but Dom is the monster!

A monitor suddenly flies through the opening.

Dom ducks.

Vita comes flying through behind it!

**MISSILE DROPKICK!**

Dom gets blasted backward.

Vita lands on her feet.

She grabs an office chair and starts running.

Dom braces himself.

Vita leaps!

**CHAIR ASSISTED HURRICANRANA!**

Dom flips over the chair and crashes onto a production desk!

BAMA: “I don't know what in tarnation that was, but it looked expensive!”

Vita tears a keyboard off the production desk, cords ripping and dangling off it…

Dom slowly rises it!

**SMACK!**

Across Dom's head!

She grabs the monitor.

**SMASH!**

Across his back.

Dom roars and grabs her around the waist.

He charges.

Vita ducks beneath his arms.

Dom slams chest-first into a steel equipment cabinet.

Vita climbs the cabinet.

“Hey, Dom!”

He turns.

She jumps!

**DOUBLE STOMP!**

Dom collapses.

Vita covers!

TODD: “Vita’s going for the win!”

Dom kicks out at one!

BAMA: “That big bastard ain't done! He’s like Jason Voorhees! When you think the credits are set to roll, he gets back up!”[/blue]

Dom rolls away and grabs a length of electrical cable.

Vita gets to her feet.

**WHAP!**

The cable cracks across her ribs.

Vita doubles over.

Dom swings again!

She ducks!

The cable wraps around a pipe.

Vita yanks it.

Dom gets pulled face-first into the wall!

Vita doesn't stop.

She grabs the cable and uses it to sling herself around the corner—

**SPINNING KICK!**

Dom catches her ankle!

“GOT YOU.”

He swings her around like a rag doll!

**WHAM!**

Vita hits a rolling road case.

Dom grabs the case.

And starts pushing it toward her.

TODD: “HE'S USING THE ENTIRE ROAD CASE AS A WEAPON!”

Vita leaps onto the case!

Dom keeps pushing!

She rides it down the hallway!

[bliue]BAMA: “SHE'S SURFING!”[/blue]

Vita jumps off at the last second.

The road case crashes into a wall.

Dom charges after her.

Vita grabs a nearby ladder.

She holds it horizontally.

Dom runs straight into it.

**CLAAAAAANG!**

He drops.

Vita climbs the ladder.

She reaches the top.

Dom starts getting up.

Vita launches herself!

**MOONSAULT!**

**BOOOOOOM!**

Both wrestlers lie motionless on the concrete.

TODD: “What an unbelievable collision!”

BAMA: “I ain't seen this much property damage since my last divorce!”

TODD: “...Have you been married, Bama? I had no idea.””

BAMA: “Todd, of course you had no idea. We’ve worked together for a long time and that’s the first personal question you’ve ever asked me.”

Vita slowly crawls toward Dom.

She reaches him.

Cover!

Todd: “ONE!”

Dom kicks out!

Vita shoots off Dom’s chest, looking unfettered, but unsure of what else she can do!

TODD: Vita has yet to even get a TWO-count on Dom, let alone approach a three-count!

BAMA: Ya gotta ask, what the hell is gonna take to put down Durango! Stu ducked and sent him over the top rope but he hasn’t been pinned since he became this fucking freakish beast!

Dom suddenly grabs her by the throat.

He lifts!

Vita's feet leave the ground.

“YOU WANTED TO BE YOURSELF?”

He hurls her into a stack of metal trash cans!

**CLAAAAANG! CLANG! CLANG!**

Dom follows.

He grabs the a giant blue can.

He raises it over his head.

”YOU’RE ABOUT TO GET SENT TO THE SCRAPYARD!”

Vita looks up.

“That's a recycling bin, dummy!”

Dom swings!

Vita rolls aside!

**CRAAAAASH!**

The trash can caves against the concrete.

Vita grabs Dom's wrist.

She twists.

**ARM DRAG!**

Dom hits the floor.

Vita runs toward him.

Dom catches her!

**BELLY-TO-BELLY!**

Vita flies across the hallway!

Dom follows with a massive **BOOT**!

Vita ducks!

Dom's foot hits the wall!

Vita grabs his leg and sweeps it!

Dom falls!

Vita climbs onto his back!

**REAR NAKED CHOKE!**

Dom fights to his feet!

He backs into the wall!

Vita releases!

Dom turns!

**HEADBUTT!**

Vita staggers.

Dom pulls back his arm.

TODD: “He's setting up for it!”

BAMA: “Oh, Lord.”

Dom roars.

**“CLOTHESLINE FROM THE DEPTHS OF HELL!”**

He charges!

Vita ducks underneath!

Dom's arm whistles over her head!

And Vita keeps moving.

One foot hits the wall.

Then the other.

She **SPRINGS OFF THE WALL** with impossible dexterity!

Her body twists through the air!

Dom turns—

**EAT DEFEEEEEEEEAT!**

Vita's boot catches him **DIRECTLY IN THE THROAT!**

Dom's eyes bulge.

He crashes backward!

**THUD!**

Vita lands on her feet!

She dives onto him!

**ONE!**

**TWO!**

**THREE!**

**DING! DING! DING!**

Winner: VITA FREAKIN’ VALENTEEN!!!!

TODD: “SHE GOT HIM!”

BAMA: “SHE GOT HIM! THE VAMPIRE GOT THE BIG MAN!”

Vita rolls off Dom, gasping for breath.

TODD: “What a battle! Dom Durango threw everything he had at Vita Valenteen, but she survived the punishment, matched him weapon for weapon, and found the one opening she needed!”

BAMA: “That wall jump was downright ridiculous!”

TODD: “And the newly revealed Vita Valenteen has just scored a huge victory! The first competitor to pin Dom Durango!”

Vita slowly gets to her feet.

She looks down at Dom.

Then toward the camera.

She smiles.
The camera pulls back as medical personnel rush into the hallway.

Vita raises one fist.

**CUT TO BLACK.**

It shows Tommy in the shadows in a corridor somewhere on the X-Tron in a mask of some sort, and he heads down to the to the entrance. Once the funky intro breaks into "PAIN MADE TO ORDER", Tommy comes out headbanging to the song and he walks down and gives people some high fives, and even flicking off some people in the process. He then slides into the ring, and takes the mask off and sits in the corner, as his theme stops playing and he sits there with no emotion as he awaits his opp.

TODD: Tommy Wish! The FIVE-TIME X-Treme champion! Tied with Jenny Myst for the most X-Treme title reigns of anyone!

BAMA: And he’s absolutely insane!

TODD: Last we saw Tommy Wish, he had renamed his ankle lock to something else… And he was treating women with respect.

BAMA: but it looks like ol’ Tom relapsed into his creepy, perverse ways! And he is as dangerous as ever!

DING! DING! DING!

MR. OZ

- vs -

TOMMY WISH

X-TREME RULEZ

Tommy Wish and Mister Oz don't circle.

They collide.

Tommy comes charging across the ring and throws a wild right hand—

DUCK!

Oz slips underneath it and answers with a STRIKING SPEAR!

THUD!

Tommy is blasted backward into the turnbuckles!

TODDOz just exploded out of the gate! No feeling-out process whatsoever!

BAMA: Ain't nobody got time for feelin' out! These two boys have been talkin' about killin' each other all week! They’re done talkin’, they’re ready to do the dang deed!

Tommy fires back with a forearm!

Oz absorbs it.

Tommy throws another!

Oz answers with a BIG BOOT!

Tommy drops to a knee.

Oz grabs him by the throat—

GORILLA PRESS!

He launches Tommy overhead and catches him across the chest before driving him down with the GORILLA PRESS GUTBUSTER!

BOOM!

Oz covers!

ONE!

TWO!

Tommy kicks out!

Oz doesn't even blink.

He grabs Tommy by the hair and hauls him upright.

Tommy suddenly cracks Oz across the face with a forearm.

Another.

Another.

CHOP!

CHOP!

CHOP!

Oz staggers.

Tommy hits the ropes—

FLYING LARIAT!

Oz's head snaps sideways!

Tommy is back up immediately.

He runs toward the ropes—

SPRINGBOARD LEG DROP!

Oz rolls away!

Tommy crashes onto the mat!

Oz catches him before he can recover and plants him with a DOUBLE A SPINEBUSTER!

BOOM!

The ring shakes.

Oz hooks the leg.

ONE!

TWO!

Tommy kicks out!

BAMA: GOOD LORD! They ain't wrestlin', Todd! They're tryin' to see which one can make the other one stop movin' first!

Oz grabs Tommy and hurls him over the top rope.

Tommy crashes onto the floor.

Oz follows.

TODD: Remember, falls count anywhere in X-Treme Rulez! Oz doesn't have to bring Tommy back to this ring!

He grabs Tommy by the back of the head—

WHAM!

Tommy's face is driven into the commentary desk.

WHAM!

Again.

Tommy stumbles.

Oz charges—

SHOULDER TACKLE!

Tommy goes flying across the floor!

Oz grabs a nearby steel chair.

He raises it.

Tommy sees it.

THWACK!

Tommy kicks Oz's knee!

The chair flies from Oz's hands.

Tommy tackles Oz around the waist and starts hammering him with forearms!

ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE!

Oz covers up.

Tommy grabs the chair.

THWACK!

Across Oz's back!

Oz drops to one knee.

THWACK!

Another!

Tommy throws the chair down, grabs Oz and tries a BULLDOG—

Oz catches him!

BEAR HUG!

Tommy's eyes bulge as Oz squeezes.

TODD: Oz has him trapped! Tommy's got nowhere to go!

Tommy's face twists with desperation.

He reaches down.

Grabs Oz's leg.

And bites down on the top of his hand.

Oz releases him immediately.

BAMA: HA! That's Tommy Wish! That’s The Freak, for ya! When the rulebook don't help, he just makes up his own!

Tommy grabs the chair again.

Oz turns—

THWACK!

The crowd loudly ooooohs…

Right across the skull!

Oz crumples onto his back!

Tommy collapses over him.

ONE!

TWO!

THR-NO!

Oz's shoulder comes up!

Tommy stares at him.

For the first time, the confidence slips.

TODD: Mister Oz just kicked out of a hellacious chair shot!

Tommy shakes his head.

He grabs Oz, pulling his head between Tommy’s legs.

TODD: Oh my God! On the padded concrete!

BAMA: That FREAK’s gonna break Oz’s neck!

Wish goes to lift Oz for a…

PILEDRIVER!

…

No!

Oz blocks it, his feet find the padding and then he HOISTS Tommy up and over!

BACK BODY DROP!

Tommy hits hard!

Oz doesn't cover.

Instead, he looks down at Tommy.

That eerie grin appears.

He points toward the backstage area.

BAMA: Uh-oh.

Oz grabs Tommy and starts dragging him away from ringside, behind a curtain near the front row…

TODD: What the Hell is going on? Where is Oz taking Tommy?

BAMA: Well, hold your horses, Toddrick, the production team’ll figure it ou!

The cameras flip through a few views… Before arriving on Oz dragging Tommy by the skull through the backstage!

BAMA: Aha! Found ‘em!

Oz lifts Tommy off his feet… And HUCKS him like a lawn dart!

Tommy is thrown through a production table!

CRASH!

Oz follows him through the wreckage!

Tommy rolls away.

Oz reaches down—

Tommy grabs a loose piece of the table and cracks Oz across the jaw!

CRACK!

Oz stumbles.

Tommy charges.

JAPANESE ARM DRAG!

Oz flips over Tommy's hip and lands hard on the concrete!

Tommy immediately follows with a BRAINBUSTER!

BOOM!

Tommy covers! The official jogs up to count!

ONE!

TWO!

THRE-NOOOOOOOOOO!

Oz kicks out!

Tommy pounds the floor in frustration!

BAMA: That was three!

TODD: It absolutely was not!

BAMA: I counted three!

TODD: You counted the first three numbers you remembered!

Tommy pulls Oz up.

FOREARM!

FOREARM!

UPPERCUT!

Oz staggers backward.

Tommy runs—

HEADRUSHA!

GORE!

Oz gets blasted into the wall!

Tommy covers again!

ONE!

TWO!

THR-NO!

Oz kicks out!

Tommy doesn't waste a second.

He grabs Oz's leg.

FETISH LOCK!

TODD: There it is! The Fetish Lock!

BAMA: Somehow that move is even more painful now that it’s gone back to its original name! The Freak just loves twisting that ankle!

The Ankle Lock is cinched in!

Oz immediately starts scrambling!

TODD: Tommy's got the ankle! Oz is in serious trouble!

Oz reaches for the wall.

Tommy drags him backward!

Oz claws at the concrete!

Then—

KICK!

Oz blasts Tommy in the face with his free foot!

Tommy releases!

Oz rolls over.

Tommy charges—

HIGH KNEE!

Tommy gets rocked!

Oz grabs him!

DELAYED VERTICAL SUPLEX!

Oz lifts Tommy straight up.

And holds him.

One squat.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Tommy struggles.

Oz does another squat.

Six!

Then—

BOOM!

Tommy crashes onto the floor!

Oz covers!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

Tommy kicks out!

Oz sits up.

His expression isn't angry.

It's almost amused.

He looks down at Tommy like he's examining something.

Tommy spits blood onto the floor.

TODD: These two do NOT like each other!

BAMA: You THINK so, Todd? All that swinging before was just how Oz and Wish say hello? Nah, this is PERSONAL.

Tommy shoves off the ground, swinging a wild haymaker! punches him.

Oz punches back.

Tommy punches.

Oz.

Tommy.

Oz.

TODD: These two aren’t even trying to dodge! They’re just teeing off on each other!

They begin trading shots!

BAM!

BAM!

BAM!

BAM!

BAM!

Neither man gives an inch!

Todd: THIS HAS BROKEN DOWN INTO A FIGHT!

Tommy swings—

Oz ducks! Tommy sails past… and Oz backflips into a…

PELE KICK!

Tommy's head snaps backward!

Oz runs to the wall—

BOONE BOMB!

Oz launches himself into a double side-flip!

CRASH!

Tommy is flattened!

Oz hooks the leg!

ONE!

TWO!

THRE-NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

TOMMY KICKS OUT!

Oz looks genuinely surprised.

Tommy rolls onto his stomach.

Oz grabs his hair.

Tommy suddenly reaches around Oz’s skull—

SITOUT JAWBREAKER!

WHAM!

Oz's jaw snaps down onto Tommy's skull!

Oz falls backward!

Tommy scrambles upright! He wraps Oz in a wristlock and climbs a nearby production table!

TODD: Tommy’s going for old school!

Oz rises beneath him!

Tommy jumps—

THWACK! LEAPING AXE HANDLE TO THE SHOULDER!

Tommy lands the Old School!

Both men crash down!

Tommy peels Oz off the skull and starts dragging him down the hall!

TODD: What?!? Tommy is dragging Oz some place else?!?

In a flash, Tommy emerges back from the curtain out at ringside! The crowd cheer!

Tommy hucks Oz by the scruff of the neck against the ring apron.

Oz cradles his aching back..

Tommy reaches underneath the ring.

TODD: It feels like this match has had everything but the kitchen sink…

He pulls out a kitchen sink.

The crowd erupts.

BAMA: OH, NOW THAT'S MORE LIKE IT!

Tommy waits.

Oz gets to his feet.

CRACK!

The kitchen shink explodes across Oz's skull!

TODD: Very funny gag, but being porcelain, I think that probably was more insult than injury!

Oz staggers.

Tommy winds up again, reeling back his leg—

ROUNDHOUSE!

…No!

Oz catches the kick and YANKS Tommy toward him.

Tommy throws a punch—

Oz blocks it!

CLOTHESLINE!

Tommy flips over!

Oz reaches under the ring and grabs…

A KENDO STICK!

Tommy gets up.

CRACK!

Oz hits Tommy across the back!

Tommy drops!

Oz raises it again—

Tommy rolls!

The stick cracks against the ring apron!

Tommy sweeps Oz's leg!

Oz falls!

Tommy dives on him!

FOREARM!

CHOP!

CHOP!

Tommy gets Oz into the ring.

He climbs the ropes.

MOONSAULT!

Oz moves!

Tommy lands on his feet!

Oz catches him from behind!

GERMAN?

No!

Tommy spins!

ENZIGURI!

Oz staggers!

Tommy charges!

HIDE-YA-FACE!

STONE COLD STUNNER!

Oz's head snaps down!

Tommy falls on top of him!

ONE!

TWO!

THREEEEEEEEE-NO!

Oz kicks out at the last possible instant!

Tommy rolls away, absolutely furious.

TODD: Tommy Wish thought he had him!

BAMA: That was the three, Todd!

TODD: IT WAS TWO!

BAMA: Learn to count!

TODD: YOU FIRST!

Tommy gets to his feet.

He sees the steel chair.

He picks it up.

Oz is on one knee.

Tommy raises the chair.

THWACK!

Oz ducks!

The chair hits the turnbuckle!

Oz explodes upward!

STRIKING SPEAR!

Tommy is driven backward!

Oz grabs the chair.

Tommy is barely standing.

THWACK!

Oz smashes the chair across Tommy's back!

Tommy drops!

Oz throws the chair aside.

He grabs Tommy.

GORILLA PRESS!

Tommy is lifted!

Tommy slips behind him!

SHOULDER NECKBREAKER!

Oz's neck is snapped down!

Tommy covers!

ONE!

TWO!

THRE-NOOOOOO!

Oz kicks out!

Tommy looks absolutely exhausted.

Oz is too.

They both rise slowly.

They stare at one another.

For a moment, everything stops.

Tommy wipes blood from his mouth.

Oz straightens his shoulders.

Tommy: You're not a God.

Oz smiles.

Oz: And you're not important.

Tommy lunges.

Oz lunges.

They collide in the center of the ring!

Tommy throws a forearm!

Oz throws a forearm!

Tommy!

Oz!

Tommy!

Oz!

Tommy suddenly catches Oz—

J-BOMB!

POWERBOMB!

BOOM!

Oz folds!

Tommy collapses on top!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE—----NO!

Oz gets the shoulder up!

Tommy stares at the referee in disbelief!

TODD: HOW?!

BAMA: Because Oz ain't finished!

Tommy pounds the mat.

He grabs Oz's ankle.

FETISH LOCK!

Oz screams!

Tommy wrenches backward!

Oz desperately reaches!

There's nowhere to go!

Tommy pulls harder!

Todd: THIS COULD BE IT!

Oz's fingers claw at the canvas!

He looks toward the ropes.

They're too far away.

Tommy screams!

Oz refuses.

Tommy pulls harder!

…

Oz suddenly rolls through!

Tommy goes flying!

Oz rises!

Tommy turns—

I FAILED YOU!

MANDIBLE CLAW!

TODD: I FAILED YOU! I FAILED YOU!

BAMA: CENTER OF THE RING! IT’S OVER!

Oz's hand clamps over Tommy's mouth!

Tommy thrashes!

He punches Oz's ribs!

Once!

Twice!

Three times!

Oz refuses to release!

Tommy tries to stand!

Oz drags him down!

Tommy's eyes begin to roll!

He claws at Oz's wrist!

Oz squeezes harder!

Tommy's body goes limp!

The referee checks him!

Once!

Oz draws Tommy’s face closer…

Twice!

He whispers in his ear that he failed…

TOMMY’S EYES SHOOT OPEN!

HE GRABS OZ’S SKULL!

HIDEYAFACE!

Oz drops like a ragdoll onto his back, Tommy collapses ontop of him!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

Winner: ‘The Freak’ Tommy Wish

Tommy collapses flat onto the canvas.

TODD: Tommy has done it! He survived the war!

BAMA: Survived is a strong choice of words… more like his corpse wound up at the top of the heap.

TODD: The Five-time X-Treme champion comes away with the win tonight over Mister Oz!

The camera pushes through a door with a brass nameplate that reads DICK LICHTER — GENERAL MANAGER — the word "BIG" written above it in Sharpie.
Inside Lichter's office there's a wall of framed Anarchy Championship match posters, lined up in chronological order starting with the first Championship match under Lichter's leadership: Atara Raven vs. Solomon Kline. The camera tracks down the line until it reaches the last one — a full-color mockup for RELENTLESS — and on it, in XXXL font: "ATARA RAVEN vs. MISS FURRY." The gorgeous faces of the two women stare at each other with sultry aggression.
Then the camera swings around to find 'BIG' DICK LICHTER behind a desk built for a much larger man, in a custom high-back chair built for exactly one. He's spinning a letter opener between two fingers and staring at that poster like it owes him money.
A knock at the door.
Lichter: It's open.
The door swings. Boots on hardwood. APATHY steps in.
Lichter: Just the woman I was expecting. You see that poster? Four hundred and eighty grand. Print run, arena wraps, the mobile billboard I've got driving in circles around the convention center right now. Four hundred and eighty thousand dollars of other people's cheekbones.
He finally swivels.
Lichter: And then you happened.
Apathy goes to speak. He waves her off.
Lichter: No, no. Don't apologize. You won. Clean, even — and believe me, I had three people watch it back frame by frame hoping it wasn't. It was. So you've earned the right to walk in here and tell me which championship you want at Relentless.
He slides a single sheet across the desk. A blank line on it, and a pen laid across it like a scalpel.
Lichter: Fill in the blank.
Apathy reaches for it. Lichter slides the paper back out from under her hand. She flashes a look of irritation.
Lichter: In a second. First, honesty — I think you've been in this long enough to prefer it. I didn't book that match for you. I booked it at you. Atara goes over, she gets her #1 contendership, that poster stays exactly where it is, everybody goes home. You were supposed to be the speed bump.
He gestures at her with the letter opener.
Lichter: And instead you put her down in the middle of my ring.
Apathy: Allow me to be blunt, I didn't think I had a chance. I was familiar of her work, her grace, her unique style. I dug my heels in and started studying tapes. Thank fuck most of that is online now. I knew what I was up against, but I was able to inch out just enough. I wasn't going to apologize, a competitor like Atara would not have me besmirch that match or win with an asterisk. With an apology, like I didn't earn it.
Lichter: Let’s talk about smart choices for a second. The Revolution Championship. It's a real belt, it's a real run, and it's a division that's been waiting for somebody with your mileage to walk in and act like the adult in the room. You take that shot, I'll build the back half of the card around you. Lights, piano music, the whole thing.
He nudges the pen a half-inch closer.
Lichter: And Atara and Furry stay right where they are. On my poster. Where I paid for them to be.
Apathy: I like the sound of the song you’re singing. I stand on business. If you’re willing to back me, then I’m willing to go the extra mile and do what needs to be done so that everyone is taken care of. I know how to play the game. I’ve got twenty years of experience backing me.
Long pause.
Lichter: Are you sure you want to do this?
Apathy: Absolutely. I’m on a journey of self. To prove to myself I belong. I want to get everyone's attention and be boldly in your face. But I want to EARN it, not be handed something because of the status of my name. I’ve been able to do that here. So I’m invested. I’m willing to do business.
He picks up the sheet. Reads it. His face turns to a look of disgust, as if he had just been betrayed.
Then, he tries to hide his anger as he locks eyes with Apathy, who’s wearing a smug grin of her own.
Lichter: You know what the funny thing is? I actually believe you can do it. That's the problem.
He stamps the paper. Hard. Twice.
Lichter: Now get the fuck out of my office.

TODD: “Ladies and gentlemen, this is our MAIN EVENT! The winner of this No Holds Barred contest earns something that, quite frankly, both of these men value more than championship gold—”

BAMA: “An excuse ta brag about themselves,” Bama grumbles.

TODD: “Exclusive bragging rights over the loser! From henceforth!”

BAMA: “Which means whoever loses tonight is gonna hear about it until the day they die.”

TODD: “And given the history between these two—”

BAMA: “That's a LOTTA hearin'.”

Centurion enters to a raucous ovation, nodding in thanks as he makes his way to the ring.

The arena erupts again.

Centurion steps through the curtain.

There is no grandiose pose.

No theatrics.

Just an old veteran staring down a man he plainly does not like.

Centurion rolls his shoulders.

He looks at the ring.

Then at Arroyo.

Then he mouths something.

BAMA: “What'd he say?”

TODD: “Something I’m not 100% sure I can repeat and comply with FCC regulations.”

Centurion enters the ring.

Arroyo immediately walks toward him.

The referee steps between them.

Both men glare.

Then the bell rings.

**DING! DING! DING!**

CENTURION©
- vs -
KRISTOFFER ARROYO

BRAGGING RIGHTS MATCH!

The winner of this no-holds barred Main Event will receive exclusive bragging rights over the loser from henceforth!

Arroyo shoots forward.

Centurion meets him.

They lock up.

Arroyo immediately changes levels, slipping around Centurion's side and securing a waistlock.

Centurion reaches down, peeling at the hands.

Arroyo transitions.

Hammerlock.

Centurion rolls his shoulder through it.

Arroyo follows.

Wristlock.

Centurion reverses.

Arroyo rolls.

Another reversal.

Centurion twists the arm.

Arroyo rolls beneath.

Back to his feet.

The two separate.

The crowd applauds.

Arroyo grins.

Centurion doesn't.

TODD: “And THAT is exactly what we expected! Two highly experienced technicians immediately trying to establish control through positioning rather than throwing haymakers!”

BAMA: “You mean they're tryin' ta figure out who gets ta hurt the other fella first.”

TODD: “This slow deliberate technical offense is both of these men’s wheelhouses, but don’t mistake this for a lack of brutality. Both these men are seeking to peel the other’s defenses and rip their insides out!”

They circle.

Lock up again.

Centurion snaps Arroyo into a side headlock.

Arroyo fires a forearm into Centurion's ribs.

Another.

He shoots him off.

Centurion comes back.

Arroyo drops low.

Centurion hops over.

Arroyo rolls through.

Centurion catches him coming up—

**ARM DRAG!**

Arroyo lands on his back.

Centurion immediately dives onto the arm.

Armbar!

Arroyo scrambles.

He rolls.

Centurion follows.

Arroyo gets his legs around Centurion's head.

Triangle!

Like a reflex, Centurion twists within Arroyo’s hold and immediately stacks his shoulders to the mat!.

One!

Two!

Arroyo releases before the three and scrambles backward.

Todd: “Beautiful chain wrestling!”

Bama: “That there was beautiful?”

Todd: “Yes!”

Bama: “Looked like two octopuses fightin' over a bucket.”

Arroyo's smile has disappeared.

Centurion extends a hand defiantly…

And beckons him forward.

The crowd pops, some rising to their feet in anticipation!

Arroyo sneers, unamused.

In a flash, Arroyo charges across the ring!

But, Cent’s ready! He leaps off the mat!

Centurion catches Arroy with a…

STANDING DROPKICK!

Arroyo tumbles backward.

Centurion hits the mat and shoves off it, rapidly advancing!

BAMA: Andy’s pushing fifty but he’s still quick like a youngster!

Arroyo lashes out with a kick.

Centurion catches the leg and pretzels Arroyo facefirst to the mat with a…

**ANKLE LOCK!**

…No! Arroyo, with grace and resilience, immediately rolls through.

Centurion releases before being pulled into the ropes.

BAMA: Arroyo’s slippery like a spanish eel!

TODD: Are spanish eels more slippery than other eels?

BAMA: Absolutely and for the benefit of our easily-offended viewers, don’t ask me why.

Arroyo scrambles upright.

Centurion charges.

Arroyo drops.

Centurion hits the ropes.

Arroyo catches him with a leg sweep!

Centurion crashes down.

Arroyo drops an elbow onto the knee.

Then another.

He grabs the leg.

Single-leg crab!

Centurion grimaces.

Arroyo leans backward, wrenching the knee.

TODD: “Arroyo is going straight after the legs! We saw in his promo that Centurion’s daughter Nellie advised Cent to target Arroyo’s face, but Arroyo is intelligently attacking Centurion's mobility.”

BAMA: “If the old man's legs ain't workin', he can't chase him around close enough to strike that big vain face.”

Centurion claws forward.

Arroyo drags him back.

Centurion suddenly rolls onto his back and kicks Arroyo away.

Arroyo staggers.

Centurion springs up—

**V TRIGGER!**

The knee catches Arroyo flush.

Arroyo drops.

TODD: Got him! Right in the face!

BAMA: Nellie’s advice looks to be right on the money!

Centurion covers.

One!

Two!

Arroyo kicks out.

TODD: Close call!

Centurion doesn't waste time.

He pulls Arroyo up.

**SAITO SUPLEX!**

Arroyo lands hard.

Centurion immediately goes for the arm.

Fujiwara!

Arroyo's fingers desperately search for something.

The referee reminds both men there are no disqualifications.

Arroyo uses his free hand to claw at Centurion's face.

Centurion recoils.

Arroyo scrambles up.

**CHOP!**

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Centurion answers.

**CHOP!**

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Arroyo!

WOOOOOO!!

Centurion!

WOOOOOO!!

Arroyo!

WOOOOOO!!

Centurion!

WOOOOOO!!

The exchanges become vicious.

TODD: “Centurion specifically warned himself against getting into a strike exchange!”

BAMA: “And now he's smack dab in the middla’ one!”

Arroyo reels back with all he’s got…

Cent braces himself!

CHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

TODD: Oh my GOD!

BAMA: I think they heard that chop in the netherworld!

Cent doubles over, squeezing his fists…

Arroyo grins. He grabs Cent by the hair and forces him back up, exposing his beet red chest…

BAMA: That poor fella’s gonna have welts in the morning!

Arroyo spits on his hand, as if getting ready to deliver the chop of his life…

HE SWINGS!

…

But Centurion catches the wrist!

He slips behind Arroyo, going for a…

TODD: He’s going for a 1000 Mile Slam! He’s calling his shot!

BAMA: He’s an old man, he’s going for the win early so he can make the early bird special!

**1000 MILE SLAM!**

…

No! Arroyo slips free off the back!

Arroyo lands behind Centurion and immediately hooks the arm.

**CROSSFACE!**

Centurion drops to one knee.

Arroyo cinches it in.

Centurion's face twists with pain.

He reaches for the ropes.

Then stops.

TODD: I think the stipulation just dawned on Cent. No Holds Barred! That means no rope breaks!

BAMA: I don’t know why that wasn’t advertised as clearly as “Bragging Rights”

Cent shoves his hand against the mat to get some leverage!

Arroyo tries to take out his arm with a kick…

But not before Centurion rolls onto his back!

Arroyo rolls with him, they end up separating…

Both men scramble upright.

Centurion throws a kick.

Arroyo ducks.

Arroyo fires one of his own.

Centurion catches it.

**SMART BOMB!**

Arroyo's body folds on impact.

Centurion covers.

One!

Two!

ARROYO KICKS OUT!

Centurion sits back on his knees, breathing heavily.

TODD: “That was close!”

BAMA: “Old Cent's still got some tricks left! He almost stole that one off Arroyo!”

Centurion rises, grabbing Arroyo’s long hair!

He pulls Arroyo toward the corner.

A chop.

Another.

Arroyo's head snaps back.

Centurion sends him across the ring with an Irish whip!

Arroyo hits the turnbuckles.

Centurion charges with a…

STINGER SPLASH!

…

No! Arroyo glides smooth as silk out of the way!!

Centurion hits the corner chest-first!

TODD: Nobody home!

Cent staggers back toward the center of the ring…

Arroyo grabs him from behind.

**RUNNING STO!**

Centurion's face smashes into the canvas.

Arroyo pounces.

He grabs Centurion's head.

**GUILLOTINE!**

Centurion fights the grip.

Arroyo squeezes.

Centurion gets his hands between the arms.

He powers upward.

Arroyo is lifted.

Centurion drops him!

Arroyo rolls away, clutching his neck.

Centurion limps toward him.

Arroyo sees him coming.

**KNEE LIFT!**

Centurion staggers.

Another! Cent doubles over…

Arroyo runs toward the ropes.

He plants one foot on the middle rope.

Then another.

TODD: Arroyo calls this the Teatro Grottesco!

BAMA: And it absolutely is grotesque-OH![blue]

KNEE!

Another knee!

Another!

Centurion collapses backward.

Arroyo drops onto him.

Cover!

One!

Two!

Centurion gets the shoulder up!

[blue]TODD: Cent survives!

BAMA: But those knees sapped a lot of gas from his gas tank!

Arroyo's expression changes.

The confidence is still there.

But now there's irritation beneath it.

He looks down at Centurion.

Then slowly reaches for his face.

Arroyo grabs Centurion by the jaw.

Cent works his way up to one knee…

Arroyo slaps him across the face!.

Centurion looks up.

TODD: “Oh, boy.”

Bama: “Arroyo putting some disrespect on this beatdown!

Arroyo smiles.

Centurion spits blood onto the mat, staring up at Arroyo defiantly.

Arroyo's smile disappears.

He swings.

Centurion ducks.

**V TRIGGER!**

Arroyo staggers.

Centurion grabs him.

**SAITO SUPLEX!**

Arroyo crashes down.

Centurion isn't done.

He grabs the leg.

**FALL OF ROME!**

The Walls of Jericho!

Centurion sits down hard.

Arroyo screams.

He claws at the canvas.

TODD: There is nowhere to go for Arroyo! No rope break! No escape!

Centurion leans back, trying to add all the torque he can!

Arroyo's face contorts in agony!

Arroyo’s hand shakes…

His hand…

…

His hand reaches backward!

His fingertips find Centurion's knee.

He rakes at it.

Centurion grimaces.

Arroyo rolls his body sideways.

Centurion loses the grip.

Arroyo spins out.

He catches Centurion—

**FLYING TRIANGLE!**

Centurion drops to his knees.

Arroyo's legs lock around his head.

Centurion is fading.

He grabs Arroyo's legs.

Lifts.

**POWERBOMB!**

Arroyo crashes down!

Centurion collapses beside him.

Both men are exhausted.

The crowd is roaring.

TODD: “This has been a technical masterpiece that has devolved into an absolute war!”

BAMA: “That's what happens when you put two stubborn sons-a-bitches in a ring and tell 'em they ain't allowed ta quit! Both these boys say they ain’t give a damn about bragging rights… but I think neither one wants to let the other have any right to brag over them!”

Centurion crawls toward Arroyo.

Arroyo rolls toward the ropes.

Centurion grabs his ankle.

Arroyo kicks.

Centurion catches the leg.

Ankle Lock!

Arroyo twists.

Centurion adjusts.

Arroyo rolls through.

Centurion flies forward—

Arroyo catches him!

**BACKSLIDE!**

One!

Two!

Centurion kicks out!

Both men scramble up.

Arroyo throws a kick.

Centurion catches it.

Arroyo jumps—

**BLACK WIDOW!**

**SNUFF MACHINERY!**

Centurion's arm is trapped.

His shoulder is being wrenched backward.

He reaches.

Arroyo pulls harder.

Centurion's face contorts.

He manages to turn.

He gets his knees underneath him.

Arroyo transitions.

He pulls Centurion up.

Centurion is dazed.

Arroyo hooks him.

TODD: “ROMEO'S LAMENT!”

Arroyo pulls Centurion close.

And, with that same smug cruelty that has defined him since the bell, he plants a deep kiss on Centurion's lips.

BAMA: “OH, LORD!”

TODD: “GOOD GOD!”

Centurion's eyes go wide.

Arroyo begins to fall backward—

But Centurion slips his grip!

He stays upright!

Arroyo's eyes widen.

Centurion catches him around the waist.

**1000 MILE SLAM!**

NO!

ARROYO COUNTERS!

He twists!

Centurion's momentum carries him forward—

**BACKSLIDE!**

ARROYO STACKS CENTURION'S SHOULDERS!

But Arroyo reaches back—

**HIS FEET ARE ON THE ROPES!**

TODD: “WAIT! HE’S CHEATIN’!”

BAMA: “AIN’T CHEATIN’ IF YOU AIN’T CAUGHT, TODDRICK!!”

The referee drops!

**ONE!**

Centurion thrashes!

**TWO!**

His shoulders are still down!

Arroyo's legs are still pressed against the ropes!

**THREE!**

The bell rings.

**DING! DING! DING!**

Winner and Possessor of EXCLUSIVE Bragging Rights over Centurion: Kristoffer Arroyo!

The crowd erupts in disbelief.

Arroyo rolls away under the bottom rope, immediately grabbing his face.

Centurion sits upright a split second too late.

Todd is shouting over the roar.

TODD: “KRISTOFFER ARROYO HAS WON! KRISTOFFER ARROYO HAS DEFEATED CENTURION WITH HIS FEET ON THE ROPES!”

BAMA: “The referee didn't see it!”

TODD: “THAT ISN’T THE POINT!”

Arroyo backs up the ramp.

He's exhausted.

His hair is disheveled.

His chest heaves.

But the smile returns.

Centurion glares up at him.

Centurion gets to one knee.

His expression is murderous.

Arroyo backs up the the ramp, still laughing.

TODD: “Kristoffer Arroyo has the bragging rights! However he got them, he has them!”

BAMA: “Centurion's gonna be hearin' about this for the REST OF HIS NATURAL LIFE!”

TODD: “And that is exactly what this match was about!”

BAMA: “Well that’s all the time we have this week folks, but in tune in next time to see how this all will unfold!”

THANKS SO MUCH TO OUR PRECIOUS MATCH WRITERS

PEDRO PRINCIPLE
THE EDGECRUSHER
‘LIL’ DICKY LICKER

AND TO OUR WONDERFUL SEGMENT WRITERS

APATHY
CHARLIE NICKLES

AND TO EVERYONE WHO RPED! THANK YOU ALL!

]]>

XWF Anarchy
[Image: vuE1ZV0.png]

08 - 20 - 2026

LIVE FROM MATTHEW KNIGHT ARENA!

EUGENE, OREGON

EL LANDERSON
- vs -
JAY FETU
- vs -
DEENA HIXX
- vs -
KENTUCKY TAGGART

FATAL FOURWAY!

KENNY STYLES
- vs -
BAM MILLER

SINGLES MATCH!

THE EDGECRUSHER
- vs -
SOLOMON KLINE

GRUDGE MATCH!

JOHN BLADE ©
- vs -
CHARLIE NICKLES

FIRST BLOOD MATCH!

THE ATOMIC BAT
- vs -
DOM DURANGO

BACKSTAGE BRAWL!

MR. OZ
- vs -
TOMMY WISH

X-TREME RULEZ MATCH!

CENTURION©
- vs -
KRISTOFFER ARROYO

BRAGGING RIGHTS MATCH!

The winner of this no-holds barred Main Event will receive exclusive bragging rights over the loser from henceforth!

EL LANDERSON
- vs -
JAY FETU
- vs -
DEENA HIXX
- vs -
KENTUCKY TAGGART

FATAL FOURWAY!

Winner: Deena Hixx

KENNY STYLES
- vs -
BAM MILLER

SINGLES MATCH!

Winner - Kenny Styles

THE EDGECRUSHER
- vs -
SOLOMON KLINE

GRUDGE MATCH!

Winner - Solomon Kline

Mr. Miller steps up to Kline with one hand in his pocket... and pulls out his wallet. He begins showing Solomon and the referee pictures of his grandkids as the scene fades out.

JOHN BLADE ©
- vs -
CHARLIE NICKLES

FIRST BLOOD MATCH!

Winner - Charlie Nickles

THE ATOMIC BAT
- vs -
DOM DURANGO

BACKSTAGE BRAWL!

BAMA: Update that graphic, Toddy baby! The Atomic Bat unmasked herself this week, we all know it’s…

VITA FREAKIN’ VALENTEEN
- vs -
DOM DURANGO

BACKSTAGE BRAWL!

Winner: VITA FREAKIN’ VALENTEEN!!!!

MR. OZ

- vs -

TOMMY WISH

X-TREME RULEZ

Winner: ‘The Freak’ Tommy Wish

CENTURION©
- vs -
KRISTOFFER ARROYO

BRAGGING RIGHTS MATCH!

The winner of this no-holds barred Main Event will receive exclusive bragging rights over the loser from henceforth!

Winner and Possessor of EXCLUSIVE Bragging Rights over Centurion: Kristoffer Arroyo!

]]> <![CDATA[ANARCHY - 08/06/2026]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=50355 Thu, 06 Aug 2026 22:56:27 -0700 'Big' Dick Lichter]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=50355

XWF Anarchy
[Image: vuE1ZV0.png]

08 - 06 - 2026

LIVE FROM EXTRAMILE ARENA!

BOISE, IDAHO

DEENA HIXX
- vs -
KENTUCKY TAGGART
- vs -
SAFARI STU
- vs -
DOM DURANGO
- vs -
EL LANDERSON

OVER-THE-TOP-ROPE BATTLE ROYALE

The last person left inside the ring wins!

THE EDGECRUSHER
- vs -
TOMMY WISH

TABLES MATCH!

The first person to go through a table LOSES!

KRISTOFFER 'VAMP' ARROYO
- vs -
MR. OZ

X-TREME RULEZ MATCH!

Anything goes as these two juggernauts lay it all on the line!

FRANCES MARIGOLD
- vs -
CHARLIE NICKLES

X-TREME RULEZ MATCH!

See above!

ATARA RAVEN
- vs -
APATHY

NUMBER 1 CONTENDER'S MATCH!

The winner of this standard singles match becomes the no. 1 contender to the blue show championship belt of their choosing!

MISS FURRY ©
- vs -
JAY FETU
- vs -
CENTURION ©

STEEL CAGE CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH!

The first person to escape the cage OR score a pinfall/submission inside the cage is the Anarchy Champion!

The camera pans across the sold-out crowd in Boise, Idaho as pyro explodes on the stage. Fans are cheering, shouting, and getting rowdy as Anarchy comes on air!

Todd: Welcome to tonight’s edition of XWF Anarchy, folks- and boy do we have a doozy lined up tonight!

Bama: That’s right, Todd! We’ve got a Number One Contendership on the line, we’ve got Charlie Nickles on the card, and we’ve even got a marquee main event featuring a steel cage match for the XWF Anarchy Championship!

Todd: We’re not just following Bad Medicine tonight, Bama….we’re OVERSHADOWING it! And taking the first step towards the Relentless stage!

Bama: And it all starts NOW!

The camera cuts to a gaggle of wrestlers already assembled inside the XWF ring. The stars of tonight’s opening match are each taking their space in the ring as the crowd cheers for their favorite stars.

Bama: And baby, we ain’t got no time to waste in getting started with the action here tonight!

Todd: Buckle up folks: because ANARCHY is just getting started!

DEENA HIXX
- vs -
KENTUCKY TAGGART
- vs -
SAFARI STU
- vs -
DOM DURANGO
- vs -
EL LANDERSON

OVER-THE-TOP-ROPE BATTLE ROYALE

The last person left inside the ring wins!

The bell rings and the arena goes up as all five competitors immediately start sizing each other up, circling like a Safari Stu nature documentary about to go very wrong. For about two seconds it's respectful. Then Deena Hixx just dives at the nearest person, which happens to be Dom Durango, and it becomes a five person pileup in about a second and a half!

El Landerson’s the first one to pop back out of the scrum, screaming that nobody touch the mask, and he goes charging off the ropes looking to clean house with a clothesline! Problem is he's not looking where he's going and just absolutely levels Safari Stu, who wasn't even involved, who was just standing there minding his business! Stu goes down like a folding chair. El Landerson stands over him, completely unaware that Deena Hixx has climbed up behind him on the middle rope!

Todd: Deena Hixx has her eye on a target!

Bama: The Greek Goddess is about to strike!

She leaps!

She actually gets some real air!

And she just misses him entirely, sailing past and crashing into the mat, because El Landerson took a half step forward at the last second to keep posing. He didn't even see her. He's still talking to the crowd. Deena's on the mat holding her ribs going "how" over and over.

Bama: DAMN! She missed em’!

Todd: She’s going to feel that in the morning!

Meanwhile in the corner, Kentucky Taggart has calmly picked up Safari Stu by the back of his vest like he's confiscating a toy, and just holds him out at arm's length while Stu's legs pedal in the air like a cartoon character. Stu is not fighting this. Stu appears to have accepted his fate. Taggart just sort of considers him for a second, shrugs, and tosses him toward the corner turnbuckle instead of out of the ring, because apparently even Taggart thinks eliminating a guy that easily is beneath him. Stu hits the turnbuckle and slides down into a seated position, dazed already. Then, Tuck sets his sights on El Landerson! He knocks his head clean off with a big boot that causes him to hit the mat!

Bama: Safari Stu is out of his depth in this slobber knocker!

Todd: And this is exactly the environment that guys like Kentucky “Tuck” Taggart can thrive in!

Across the ring Durango turns around and gets absolutely blindsided by Deena Hixx, who has recovered from her earlier misfire. She unloads on him with a flurry of forearms, backing him into the ropes, and the crowd is chanting along with every hit. El Landerson, who has also gotten back up and apparently has selective memory about who hit him, sees Durango getting worked over and decides now's a great time to pile on, running in from the other side!

Except Durango ducks at the last second, because pure survival instinct kicks in even through the fog of getting smacked around, and El Landerson's running forearm sails clean over him and connects with Deena Hixx instead! Full impact!

Todd: Durango is getting worked over by everyone in the ring! But in the end, they’re all eating a piece of the chef’s shepard pie!

Bama: Dom cooked shepard’s pie tonight- and he didn’t bring me any?!

Across the ring, Safari Stu has recovered enough to stand up in the corner, and he decides this is his moment. He climbs the turnbuckle again, for reasons that remain unclear even to him, and starts scanning the crowd with his hand shading his eyes like he's spotting a rare bird migration. Someone in the front row points and yells that Kentucky Taggart is right behind him. Stu does not process this information in time.

Taggart plucks him off the top rope again. Same as before. Stu doesn't even resist, just goes limp like a stuffed animal, and Taggart carries him a full lap around the ring while Stu waves at fans like he's on a parade float. Taggart finally gets bored of the bit and just drops him outside the ropes onto the apron, not eliminating him, seemingly just done carrying him around. Stu lands on the apron, looks mildly disappointed the ride's over, and immediately starts climbing back through the ropes.

Todd: I think Kentucky forgot that you need to throw them OUT of the ring! Safari Stu’s feet never touched the floor, only the apron!

Bama: Tuck didn’t forget a thing, Todd- he just knows that Safari Stu isn’t even worth the effort! He’s sending a message!

Now Taggart turns his attention to the ring at large, and this is where things get serious. Deena Hixx and El Landerson are back to trading shots in the middle, both way too committed to notice a mountain of a man walking up behind them. Taggart grabs one head in each hand.

"Oh no," says Safari Stu, who sees it coming from across the ring and immediately backs into the corner to watch from a safe distance, hands over his own face like he can't bear to look but is also absolutely looking.

Taggart smacks their heads together like two of Stone Cold’s beers, giving each of them a red mask! El Landerson and Deena stand there wobbling, woozy, and completely vulnerable as Taggart rears back-

AND HITS THEM WITH A DOUBLE POWER SLAP!

El Landerson and Deena Hixx tumble out onto the floor in a heap of limbs, both eliminated in the same instant. The referee signals it. The crowd is losing their entire minds!

DEENA HIXX AND EL LANDERSON HAVE BEEN ELIMINATED

Todd: KENTUCKY JUST TOOK THEM BOTH OUT WITH ONE POWER-SLAP!

Bama: You can’t teach that kinda power in a wrestling school! That’s purebred Kentucky strength right there!

Taggart stands up, dusts off his hands like he just finished stacking firewood, and doesn't even look at the fans.

He doesn’t even look at Dom Durango, who is sneaking up right behind him!

Bama: Look out, Tuck!

But Taggart can’t hear Bama! Before Taggart even realizes what’s happening, he’s being lifted up over the top rope by his tights! He tries to fight it, but he’s too late: Dom Durango has already thrown him over the top rope!

KENTUCKY TAGGART HAS BEEN ELIMINATED

Todd: And just like that, we only have 2 men left standing!

Bama: TAGGART, NOOOO!

Durango, sensing the finish line, immediately switches into kill mode. Durango whips around and comes charging with a wide clothesline meant to send Stu packing! Full sprint, arm cocked back, already halfway into his post match celebration face.

Todd: Durango is going for elimination number 2 here!

Bama: Stu had better run! He’s not getting out of Dom’s kitchen alive!

Stu panics. Genuinely panics, eyes clenched shut, and ducks straight down with absolutely zero technique or awareness, purely a flinch reaction to a large man running at him. It is not a wrestling move. It is a scared person avoiding their impending doom!

Todd: This is gonna be tough to watch, Bama!

Bama: Dom’s about to take that poor son of a bitch’s head clean off!

But Durango's clothesline sails through empty air where Stu's head used to be! His own forward momentum, still carrying every bit of speed from that dramatic sprint, takes him clean over the top rope, arms still out in clothesline position the entire way down, like he's still trying to hit someone who isn't there anymore! He crashes to the floor right next to Taggart, who is still lying there staring at the ceiling.
Safari Stu opens his eyes very slowly, half expecting to be in pain somewhere. He is not. He is just standing alone in the ring!

Winner - Safari Stu

The referee grabs Stu’s wrist and shoots it into the air, and Stu's face goes through about four different emotions in two seconds, confusion, disbelief, cautious joy, and finally full blown delight, jumping up and down like he just won something he didn't expect to even be involved in by the end!

Todd: I…I…I can’t believe it! Safari Stu just won this match! This could be the upset of the century!

Bama: First, he took down that Germanfreude Clown! And now, he just took down 4 competitors in 1 night: without even throwing a single punch!

Todd: Safari Stu is finally making a name for himself on Anarchy! But something tells me Taggart and Durango aren’t quite done with him yet!

Bama: Well if they want to get their revenge, they’re going to have to wait until our next show: because tonight, we still have so much more action to get to- and it’s all coming up next!

No music, no fanfare, Yummy Wish just walks down to the ring in total silence. He stands in the center of the ring and looks towards the entrance way as the arena goes dark. A spotlight shines on the Edgecrusher, who pushes out a shopping cart overflowing with random fireworks. He proudly points at his collection and shouts.

Edgecrusher: I spent all week finding these.

He sets most of them up on the stage as several perplexed ring crew members follow him out. He hands the men some bundles and points towards the ring. They oblige and run down to the ring, setting a bundle up on each ring post before vanishing backstage. The Edgecrusher shoots a thumbs up towards the spotlight which shuts off leaving the stage in darkness.

Announcer: (looking annoyed) And his opponent... Hailing from...

The announcer pauses and double checks what his notecard is telling him. He sighs, then takes a deep breath.

Announcer: Hailing from your mom's house, weighing...

The announcer pauses again and chuckles under his breath.

Announcer: weighing in at 235 pounds and standing six foot tall. The... the greatest legend in wrestling history...

The announcer shakes his head.

Announcer: THE EDGGGGGEEEEEEEE CRUSSSSHHHHEEEERRRR!

DUE TO THE GRAPHIC NATURE OF THIS PROGRAM LISTENER DISCRETION IS ADVISED

Fear Factory's "Edgecrusher" kicks in over the arena speakers and the lights raise up. The Edgecrusher is still standing in the same spot, but now he holds a remote with a single large red button. He presses the button and all the random pyro scattered across the stage goes off. A mismatched line of fireworks lights the stage up only inches behind EC. On one side, something similar to a Roman candle spurts random flames, directly behind him a giant flash of light followed by raining sparkles, the other side just a straight up sparkler. He slowly walks down to the ring waving and clapping in traditional 80's midsouth jobber fashion. The back of his hair visibly singed and leaving a trail of smoke. He casually gets into the ring and does a few half assed stretches. Then he sees it. Between the ring and the guardrails blocking the audience, a wooden folding table. It's already set up; a similar table is also set up on the other side of the ring in the same place. He places his remote in his pocket and walks over to the ref as he rings the bell. He looks at the table, then at the ref, then to the crowd, back to the table, then back to the ref again.

THE EDGECRUSHER
- vs -
TOMMY WISH

TABLES MATCH!

The first person to go through a table LOSES!

EC: ...Wait a minute...

He points to the table outside the ring.

EC: That's... that's the kind of table?

The ref nods as EC climbs between the ropes and stands on the hardest part of the ring.

EC: Nobody told me it was this type of table; I lost all my money trying to learn how to play blackjack!

EC leans over the top rope; the middle rope hits the remote button in his pocket. He feels this and freezes.

EC: Uh ohhh

KABOOOOOOMMM!!!!

Every remaining piece of totally not stolen pyro detonates all at once. The stage disappears behind a wall of multicolored pyro; the explosions echo around the arena. Smoke cannons fire, sparklers erupt, all four corners spray flames upwards, and random Roman candles launch sideways into the crowd. Startled EC jerks backwards, his feet slip off the apron and he falls backwards, crashing through the table. One of the metal legs with a chunk of wood still attached bounces off the guard railing and nails a little old lady in the face. She lets out a sick moan and falls backwards into the crowd. The ref calls for the bell as well as emergency medical assistance.

Winner - “Yummy Wish”

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. 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.

TODD: And there is Mister Oz! Last we saw him at Bad Medicine, he and Dom Durango went to WAR in Oz’s trademark Meathooks of Horror Match!

BAMA: That was less a wrestling match and more a live audience version of a true crime documentary! Blood and guts galore!

TODD: We’ve seen Oz look gloriously violent… but how will he handle an opponent as dominant and imposing as the Vamp, Kristoffer Arroyo!

Kristoffer Arroyo stands in the center of the ring with his hands folded neatly behind his back, posture immaculate, chin held high as though he were posing for an oil painting instead of preparing for sanctioned violence.

Across from him, Mister Oz simply stares.

Unblinking.

Unwavering.

The expression on his face is neither anger nor excitement.

It is judgment.

TODD: "Here we go! X-Treme Rules! No count-outs, no disqualifications, no limitations whatsoever!"

BAMA: "Boy, somebody oughta lock the exits. One of these fellas ain't leavin' here under his own power."

The bell rings.

KRISTOFFER 'VAMP' ARROYO
- vs -
MR. OZ

X-TREME RULEZ MATCH!

Anything goes as these two juggernauts lay it all on the line!

Oz doesn’t charge, he simply begins walking forward.

Measured.

Steady.

Every step deliberate.

Arroyo laughs defiantly, as Oz looms forward menacingly.

TODD: Arroyo seems unphased by Oz’s approach.

BAMA: Most people would be frozen in fear with the Butcher of Chi-Town looking to carve them into vittles! But Arroyo ain’t most people!

The moment Oz crosses the center of the mat towards his opponent…

Arroyo explodes across the canvas with startling speed!

TODD: Incredible acceleration by Arroyo!

A blistering shoot kick cracks against Oz's thigh.

THWACK!

Another.

THWACK!

Another.

Oz barely budges.

BAMA: Hot damn! Arroyo’s got strikes sharper than a set of steak knives! And Oz is tanking his way through like… well, like a Sherman tank!

His leg reddens, but ultimately remains steady…

Arroyo pivots—

A vicious chest kick.

CRACK!

Oz's torso rocks backward half a step.

The audience gasps.

Arroyo grins.

He spins—

ROUNDHOUSE—

Oz ducks beneath it.

Before Arroyo's foot even touches the canvas—

BOOM!

Oz drives a shoulder directly into Arroyo's ribs.

The impact launches Kristoffer halfway across the ring, SLAMMING with a metallic thud into the turnbuckle!

TODD: That HAD to hurt!

Arroyo rebounds off the turnbuckle… tumbling into a front somersault, rolls through beautifully, never allowing himself to actually fall, sliding to one knee with a smug smile still plastered across his face.

But he's breathing just a little harder!

TODD: Good Lord! Oz nearly folded him in half, but… Arroyo looks wholly unharmed! Guess that’s the power of being an immortal vampire, huh, Bama?

BAMA: He may be immortal, but he didn’t go unlicked by Oz’s shoulder block… he’s just too damn proud to let Oz think his strikes hurt! I think that’s something these fellas have in common!

Arroyo brushes an invisible speck of dust from his shoulder.

He rushes again.

This time faster.

A low leg sweep.

Oz loses his footing—

Only for Arroyo to capitalize immediately with a brutal shoot kick to the spine before Oz can fully fall.

SMACK!

Another to the shoulder.

Another to the kidneys.

Another to the ribs.

Each strike lands with sickening precision.

Oz finally drops to both knees.

Arroyo circles him almost elegantly.

TODD: Arroyo’s moving like a shark with the grace of a ballet dancer!

BAMA: Ooh, Shark Ballet. Now there’s something the Ice Capades don’t got the balls to show.

Arroyo reaches down—

Grabbing Oz by the chin.

Then—

SLAP.

Not a strike.

A humiliation.

The arena erupts.

Oz's head barely turns from the impact.

Slowly...

Very slowly...

He looks back toward Arroyo.

The smile hasn't changed.

If anything—

It's grown.

Arroyo's own grin falters.

Just slightly.

Oz rises to one knee.

Then both feet.

TODD: Arroyo has come into this match looking to break Oz’s will.

BAMA: Oz’s will is almost as unbreakable as his body! Arroyo’s been sending a message, but Oz is saying nothing, just wearing that eerie grin!

Arroyo throws a forearm.

Oz eats it.

Another.

Oz absorbs that too.

A third—

Oz catches the arm.

The smile never leaves his face.

His grip tightens.

Arroyo's confidence finally cracks for the briefest instant.

Not fear.

Confusion.

He pulls.

Nothing.

Pulls harder.

Still nothing.

Oz calmly yanks him forward.

CRACK!

A headbutt detonates directly into Arroyo's forehead.

Kristoffer stumbles backward, eyes watering instantly.

Oz advances.

No wasted movement.

No celebration.

Just another step.

Arroyo shakes the cobwebs loose and charges again.

Oz catches him around the waist.

Lifts.

Almost effortlessly.

THUD!

A crushing body slam rattles the ring.

Before Arroyo can breathe—

Oz drops a knee directly across his sternum.

THUMP!

Another.

THUMP!

Another.

Each one slower than the last.

Each one more deliberate.

TODD: "Oz spacing these strikes out… As if he wants Arroyo to have just enough time to anticipate the next impact! It’s torture! This is exactly what Oz talked about! He's not in a hurry—he's making Arroyo endure this!"

BAMA: "That ain't wrestlin', Todd. That's punishment."

Oz reaches down.

Wraps both hands around Arroyo's throat.

Arroyo's eyes narrow.

Then—

He shoves thumb toward Oz’s eyes!

Oz’s head jerks to dodge it!

His grip loosens just enough.

Arroyo tears free, before scrambling backward into the corner, wiping his mouth…

Oz raises both hands, beckoning Arroyo forward!

The crowd starts to pop with anticipation.

TODD: Oz inviting Arroyo to come at him! Not that Arroyo needs an invitation!

BAMA: Yum yum, come getcha some!

Arroyo explodes from the corner!

Running knee!

Oz blocks with both forearms—

THWACK!

—but the impact still drives him backward a full step.

Arroyo rebounds off the ropes!

Another knee!

This one catches Oz flush beneath the jaw!

The giant rocks backward!

Before he can recover—

SMACK!

A blistering shoot kick caves into Oz's ribs.

SMACK!

Another to the thigh.

SMACK!

Another to the chest.

Oz suddenly lunges—

Arroyo ducks underneath!

The vampire rebounds off the opposite ropes!

TEATRO GROTTESCO!

A running knee explodes into Oz's face!

The impact snaps Oz backward into the ropes!

Arroyo leaps effortlessly onto the middle strand—

One knee!

Two!

Three!

Four!

Each strike driving Oz's head violently backward as the crowd counts along!

TODD: "Teatro Grottesco! Arroyo is lighting Mister Oz up!"

BAMA: "Boy's throwin' knees like he's collectin' frequent flyer miles!"

The final knee sends Oz stumbling through the ropes—

But not to the floor.

He lands awkwardly on the apron...

...and smiles.

Again.

Arroyo rolls his eyes.

He charges—

Looking to knock Oz to the floor—

Oz catches him!

One massive hand around the throat—

The other around his waist—

And with terrifying strength—

OVERHEAD GORILLA PRESS!

The arena gasps as Arroyo is launched high into the air before crashing violently onto the ringside floor!

CRASH!

The impact echoes through the arena.

TODD: "OH MY GOD!"

BAMA: "Lord Almighty! He done threw that vampire clean back to Transylvania!"

Oz doesn't follow immediately.

He steps through the ropes with maddening patience.

Each step measured.

Each breath calm.

Arroyo coughs violently, dragging himself toward the barricade.

Oz reaches him...

Grabs him by the hair...

And drives him face-first into the steel barricade.

CLANG!

Again.

CLANG!

Again.

CLANG!

Arroyo slumps against the railing, his lip split open.

His hair hangs over his face.

Oz grabs him by the jaw.

Oz cocks his arm—

Arroyo drives a boot into his knee!

Oz buckles!

Arroyo follows with a vicious spinning back kick to the temple!

Oz stumbles into the commentary table!

Without hesitation, Arroyo hooks Oz around the waist—

A tremendous effort—

Muscles straining—

And somehow—

BELLY-TO-BELLY OVERHEAD!

Oz sails across the announce desk!

CRAAAAASH!

Monitors explode.

Headsets fly.

Todd and Bama dive for cover as splintered wood rains across the floor.

TODD: "Our table! Our table!"

BAMA: "What, was it your grandmama’s? Quit cryin'! We got another fifty in the back!"

Arroyo stands over the wreckage.

Chest heaving.

Blood dripping from his lip.

He spreads his arms dramatically to the audience.

The cheers are deafening.

Then...

The pile of broken table begins moving.

A massive hand emerges.

Then another.

Oz slowly rises from the debris.

A shard of wood hangs from his suit jacket.

He calmly removes it.

Dusts himself off.

Then walks forward.

Arroyo actually laughs.

The two collide in the aisle with a barrage of forearms!

SMACK!

Oz!

CRACK!

Arroyo!

THUD!

Oz!

WHACK!

Arroyo!

Neither man gives an inch.

Each strike harder than the last.

Each impact answered immediately.

The crowd rises with every blow.

TODD: "They're not trying to outwrestle each other anymore!"

BAMA: "They're tryin' to prove whose soul's tougher!"

Oz suddenly fires a devastating Big Boot!

Arroyo barely ducks!

He springs onto the barricade—

Launching backward—

CROSSBODY!

Both men crash onto the concrete!

Neither stays down.

They stagger upright almost simultaneously.

Arroyo suddenly steps in.

He hooks Oz's head.

An arm around the neck.

The position is unmistakable.

TODD: "Romeo's Lament! If he plants him here, this could be it!"

Arroyo kisses two fingers...

Presses them toward Oz's lips...

Oz's eyes suddenly snap open.

His free hand shoots forward—

Straight into Arroyo's mouth!

MANDIBLE CLAW!

The crowd erupts!

Arroyo's eyes bulge instantly!

Oz's fingers wrench deep into his jaw!

He forces Kristoffer backward, squeezing relentlessly.

Arroyo thrashes wildly.

His arms flail.

His knees buckle.

Oz bears down harder.

Arroyo's movements slow.

His eyes glaze.

His hand hovers over the mat.

The referee drops beside them.

"DO YOU SUBMIT?!"

Arroyo doesn't answer.

His hand trembles.

Once...

Twice...

The audience leans forward.

TODD: "He's fading!"

BAMA: "Ain't no shame tappin' to the Claw!"

Arroyo's hand begins to fall...

Toward the canvas...

Toward surrender...

Then his eyes flash open.

Wild.

Animalistic.

Without warning—

CHOMP!

His teeth sink into Oz's hand with every ounce of desperation he has left!

Oz's expression finally changes.

Pain.

Real pain.

Blood immediately pours from between Arroyo's clenched teeth.

Oz rips his hand free with a roar, staggering backward, cradling the mangled limb against his chest.

TODD: "HE BIT HIM! HE BIT HIM AGAIN!"

BAMA: "That's one way to escape the Mandible Claw!"

Arroyo spits a mouthful of blood onto the mat.

Breathing hard.

His smile returns.

Crimson now staining every tooth.

Oz charges.

Arroyo waits until the very last second—

He leaps!

Flipping over Oz's shoulders—

Hooks both arms—

Plants his feet on the top turnbuckle behind them—

The arena realizes all at once—

TODD: "NO WAY—!"

FINALE ROSSO!!

The avalanche Mexican Destroyer spikes Oz straight down onto the crown of his head with horrifying velocity!

BOOOOOOOM!!

The ring shakes.

Neither man moves.

The audience erupts into a standing ovation.

Arroyo is the first to stir.

Every movement is agony.

He crawls.

One forearm at a time.

Finally draping an arm across Oz's chest.

The referee slides into position.

ONE!

...

TWO!

...

Oz's shoulder twitches—

...

THREE!!

DING! DING! DING!

Winner: Kristoffer ‘Vamp’ Arroyo

TODD: "HE DID IT! KRISTOFFER ARROYO SURVIVES THE BUTCHER OF CHICAGO!"

BAMA: "Survived's the right word, Todd! Ain't neither one of these boys walkin' out better than they walked in!"

Arroyo remains sprawled across Oz for several long moments, scarcely able to breathe. Finally, he pushes himself upright, wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, raising an arm in response to the crowd’s cheers.

The scene opens live from the Extramalie Arena in Boise, Idaho. The arena is done up in pure VilaroGLOBAL propaganda, including a giant banner of Marisol holding up the Reveloution championship high in the air. The ring is a red carpet with a VilaroGLOBAL logo, as all of a sudden Shake It Off by Taylor Swift hits over the public address as the fans boo loudly as the music of the Reveloution Champion. The fans' reactions swell into loud boos as a spotlight appears on the ramp, and paparazzi soon come out as out from the back, looking like a Miss USA pageant contestant is none other than the Fitness Queen herself, Marisol Vilaro. She is clad in a black Divina Couture gown, with a tiara, matching black Divina Couture high-heel pumps, and lace gloves. She does an arrogant pageant wave as the fans boo loudly. Flanking her is her long-time manager and partner, Nessa Wall, in a pink Divina Couture gown and pink Louboutins. As they walk, Marisol takes center stage, posing smugly for shots, letting them soak it all in. The Reveloution title is placed neatly on her shoulder; she raises it high in the air, allowing the whole world to get a look. As she holds it over her head, she saunters her way down to the ring. She eventually makes her way to the stairs and walks up the steps as the paparazzi still take shots of her entrance with the belt over her head, once they make their way to the steel steps, The Ambitchous one makes he up the steps demanding the ropes be held for her as the referee does, Nessa Wall enters but orders the stage hand who helpd them to hold the ropes as The Fitness Queen soon sautners up the steel steps with title above her head letting the world ge a look at it, as she soons saunters up the steel steps her heels clacking against the steps. As she soon does another raise of the title belt, and Marisol Vilaro soaks in the reaction, the flashbulbs, and everything else. After that she enters the ring posing with her brand new championship and her manager, Nessa Wall, as she soon is handed a microphone alongside Nessa Wall, as her theme music soon cuts. Soon, the Ambitchous blonde begins to speak in a smug, proud tone.

Nessa Wall: Well, well, looks like Summer Page came up short, and that we told you so. We told you that her time as Revolution champion was about to be up, and that the Revolution Championship was due to be given to someone who truly is revolutionary. Someone who has created a billion-dollar portfolio that none of you can compare to, the woman who since her return, has not only improved the lives of some of the once ugliest people I have ever laid eyes on, almost as ugly as all of you.

The fans boo loudly as Nessa scoffs before speaking.

Nessa Wall: So, please welcome the true Luminary, the Billion Dollar Queen, your Empress of VilaroMaxxing, Marisol VILARO!

Marisol steps forward with a smug smile as if she were the belle of the ball, as she smugly waves as she soon puts the microphone to her glossed lips.

Marisol Vilaro: I know, hold your applause, because I have something important to say and I want to thank everyone who helped make this come through, and all of those who supported me along the way. Starting with my amazing mentor and friend, Nessa Wall.

Nessa waves as the fans boo loudly, as Marisol continues.

Marisol Vilaro: I also want to thank all of those who have supported me throughout my time, all those wrestlers who followed my system and reached the next level of their careers, and I want to thank all of my haters because of you, and your word of mouth, you helped me get rich even quicker than I would have on my own. And I want to thank my millions of subscribers, and customers who have Entrusted in Mari, and have became the best verison of thereselves, and finally last but not least I want to thank the most important person, the biggest infulence in my success. I want to think one single person who has inspired me to be the very best I can be and that person is…

Marisol takes a long pause, before speaking in a loud proud tone.

Marisol Vilaro: AND THAT PERSON IS NONE OTHER THAN MARISOL VILARO!

The fans boo even louder at the arrogance as the Catalonian beauty soon begins to speak.

Marisol Vilaro: Because it was me, it was my vision, my planning, my tenacity that has lead me to this moment, and has lead me to this Championship.

Marisol once again shows off her Reveloution Championship as she speaks once again.

Marisol Vilaro: I created a corporate revolution, and unlike all of those fake revolutionary types you know the ones who spot nonsense about eating the rich? I will usher in a true Reveloution one where standards once again are returned front and center to Anarchy. Standards, and a new proper culture one that embraces the core values of VilaroGLOBAL and VilaroMaxxing and to anyone who thinks they will stand in the way of the new culture of Anarchy I will leave you with this.

Marisol paused briefly before speaking.

Marisol Vilaro: ENTRUST IN MARI, IT IS YOUR ONLY PATH FORWARD!

She soon raises the belt high in the air as she smugly smirks as Shake It off by Taylor Swift hits over the public address system. Pyro, soon blast’s all over the arena as her wide smile is the last hing the cameras land on before the scene fades to black.

TODD: Folks, this next one promises to be… X-Treme? That’s an understatement! Pandemonium! Closer, but… oh my God, Bama, how would describe this next match?

BAMA: Like two human monster trucks are pointing at each other! This ain’t gonna be long and it ain’t gonna be technical. It’s gonna be like a knife fight in Tijuana. Quick, bloody, and it’s gonna take a week to get the smell of alcohol off of everyone involved, spectators included!

…

As Nirvana's Tourette's blares through the loudspeakers, the cameras pan around the arena before finally spotting Frances Marigold

He appears in the stands, smoking a cigarette, jamming out with the fans. He cracks open a can of beer pours it down his throat before heading to the ring.

TODD: There he is! Frances Marigold! An absolute enigma, a bastard prince of wrestling’s territory days!

BAMA: Born in a Bingo Hall wrestling ring and talks like Confucius with a concussion!

TODD: Frances has proven to be a charismatic enigma! And an effective one in X-Treme matches, finding a way to upset former Anarchy champion, Kristoffer Arroyo earlier this year! But, he’s facing a fellow X-Treme icon tonight! How will Frances stack up?

Bullet With a Point begins to blare over the loudspeakers as CHARLIE NICKLES makes his way down the ramp... He flashes a shit-eating grin at the audience members as he stands on the apron, eager to inflict pain!

TODD: Here he is! Charlie Nickles! A man with a legitimate claim to being the most X-Treme competitor in the history of the XWF!

BAMA: As long as the X-Treme title exists, Nickles is a-huntin’ for it! He’s thrown his body through glass, through cables, through steel, through barbed wire… And he never stops coming!

TODD: But today, no X-Treme title is on the line! Just bragging rights to being X-Treme! Charlie claims his opponent is an imitation Charlie, but not his equal! Can Charlie prove he’s the superior X-Treme competitor tonight?

Charlie slides into the ring, mean-mugging Marigold…

The camera catches Charlie standing in the center of the ring, shoulders squared, staring across at Frances Marigold. The Nickleman isn't bouncing on his feet. He isn't pacing. He isn't wasting energy.

He's just waiting.

Frances, meanwhile, looks like a man who wandered into the wrong building and somehow ended up in a fight. A crooked grin crosses his face as he sways slightly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Charlie slowly raises one finger.

Not at Frances.

At the crowd.

Almost like he's telling them to watch.

TODD: Charlie Nickles has been very clear about what he thinks of Frances Marigold. He doesn't see him as a dangerous opponent. He sees him as an imposter. Someone pretending to be broken.

BAMA: And Charlie thinks he's the real deal, because he ain't pretending. That's the scary part, Todd.

DING DING!

FRANCES MARIGOLD
- vs -
CHARLIE NICKLES

X-TREME RULEZ MATCH!

Anything goes as these two juggernauts lay it all on the line!

TODD: The bell has rung, and you can feel the atmosphere change here tonight! No disqualifications, no count-outs, no rules except one: survive! This is exactly what Anarchy was made for!

BAMA: Todd, don't give me that fancy explanation. There ain't no rules because neither one of these men should be trusted around a wrestling ring with rules!

TODD: That's a fair point. Especially when you're talking about Charlie Nickles.

Charlie steps forward.

Frances steps forward.

And immediately—

BOOM!

A right hand from Nickles crashes into Frances' jaw.

The sound echoes.

Frances stumbles backward.

Another punch.

Another.

Another.

Charlie unloads with a barrage of body shots, hooks, and uppercuts, driving Frances into the corner. Each strike comes with a little more anger behind it.

TODD: Charlie Nickles is unloading right away! He isn't trying to wrestle Frances down, he's trying to make a statement! These strikes are desperate!

BAMA: There’s no desperation in those hands… more like disgust! In Charlie's mind, this ain't a match. This is an execution.

Frances staggers back, but Charlie grabs Frances by the wrist and pulls him in close quarters!

Irish whip!

Frances crashes into the opposite turnbuckle.

Nickles charges—

RUNNING KNEE!

Frances collapses into the corner.

Charlie doesn't cover.

He doesn't even consider it.

Instead, he looks down at Frances with a cold expression.

He grabs Frances by the hair and drags him up.

TODD: This is where Charlie Nickles is at his most dangerous. He doesn't just want to win. He wants to hurt people.

Charlie hooks Frances.

DDT!

Frances' head bounces off the canvas.

The crowd boos as Charlie sits up and stares at his opponent.

But Frances starts laughing.

A low, broken laugh.

Charlie pauses.

BAMA: Uh-oh.

TODD: Frances Marigold is laughing!

Frances rolls onto his side, looking up at Charlie with a wild grin.

Charlie looks confused for just a moment.

Frances shoves his way off the match, throwing a wild artless punch!

Charlie eats it on the chin, and catches Frances’ fist against his chest!

BAMA: Bad decision. Frances has got guts for days but Charlie’s got weight and power on him. It’s like punching a brick wall!

Charlie twists the arm.

BODY PUNCH!

Frances doubles over.

BIG BOOT!

Frances flips backward.

Charlie steps over him, looking down.

TODD: Charlie Nickles has been dominating this match from the opening bell!

Nickles walks to the corner and grabs a steel chair.

The referee immediately backs away.

Charlie unfolds the chair.

Frances slowly gets to his knees.

Charlie raises the chair.

The crowd erupts.

BAMA: Come on, Frances! Do something!

Frances looks up.

The chair swings down—

NO!

Frances moves!

The chair smashes into the mat!

And Frances fires back!

CRACK!

A desperate elbow catches Charlie right across the side of the head.

The Nickleman stumbles.

For the first time all night—

Charlie Nickles is rocked.

TODD: Frances Marigold with a desperation strike!

Frances doesn't waste the opportunity.

He grabs Charlie.

He hooks him.

The crowd rises.

TODD: WAIT A SECOND!

BAMA: No way!

Frances pulls!

He's trying to lift the Nickleman!

He's trying to hit the…

NO

CUSHION

PILEDRIIIIIIIIIIIIIVER!!!!!!!!

…

But no! Charlie brings his trunk back down onto the mat!

BACK BODY DROP! Frances gets flipped up and over, landing on his back!

Charlie spins around… Frances, in a desperate effort to slow Charlie down, grabs Charlie in a sideheadlock!

TODD: Holy shit! A technical wrestling move! In THIS match?!?

BAMA: Some moron on Kalshi who bet ten bucks I think just won a grand!

Nickles turns his body to face Frances… Frances clings onto what little of the hold he can…

Nickles drives his fists into Frances' ribs.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Frances' grip loosens.

Charlie slips free.

Both men stagger to their feet.

Frances swings wildly—

Charlie ducks.

DEVIL HOOK DROP!

The double-arm DDT plants Frances into the canvas.

The crowd explodes.

Charlie rolls away, breathing heavily.

But he doesn't cover.

Again.

He isn't satisfied.

TODD: Charlie Nickles had the match won right there!

BAMA: That's the problem with Charlie. Winning ain't enough.

Charlie looks outside the ring.

And he smiles.

The kind of smile that makes the arena uncomfortable.

He reaches down.

And slowly removes his belt.

TODD: Oh no...

BAMA: You knew this was coming!

Charlie steps back into the ring.

Frances is barely moving.

The Nickleman cracks the belt against his own hand.

SMACK.

Charlie looks down at Frances.

"You wanted X-treme?"

The crowd rains down boos.

Charlie swings.

SMACK!

The belt wraps around Frances' back.

Again.

SMACK!

Again.

SMACK!

TODD: This is absolutely sickening! There is no hesitation from Charlie Nickles!

BAMA: Todd, you gotta understand something. Frances wanted to live in this world. Charlie Nickles built this world.

Charlie grabs Frances by the hair.

SMACK!

One more shot.

Charlie throws the belt aside.

He drags Frances up.

The crowd knows what's coming.

Charlie hooks him.

Lifts him high.

BIG SIDEWALK SLAM!

Frances crashes down with incredible force.

The entire ring shakes.

Charlie finally drops down for the cover.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

DING DING DING!

Winner: Charlie Nickles

TODD: Charlie Nickles has done it! The Nickleman has defeated Frances Marigold in one of the most brutal displays we've seen here in Anarchy!

BAMA: And that's the difference, Todd. Frances Marigold might be crazy. He might be fearless. He might not know when to quit.

But Charlie Nickles?

Charlie Nickles enjoys making people quit. Likes it more than anything. Charlie didn’t see an opponent, he saw a stubborn horse and a chance to break it.

The camera focuses on Charlie sitting beside Frances, staring down at the fallen man.

No celebration.

No smile.

Just a cold, empty look.

Then the lights go out.

When they come back on, a masked man stands behind Charlie Nickles with a chair in hand. In fact, this mask looks familiar. Corpse paint, that ornate white and red mask. The figure brings the chair across the back of Charlie Nickles. He takes the chair shot and winces, but turns around to face his attacker.

Bama: Is that who I think it is?

Todd: Sure looks like XXXVI. We haven’t seen him since Leap of Faith!

Bama: And if he ain’t careful, Charlie Nickles might put him back on the shelf for good!

Charlie kicks the masked man in the stomach and he doubles over and the chair falls beneath them. Charlie grabs him by the head, hooks both arms, Devil Hook — No! The masked man kicks Charlie right in the family jewels. Charlie falls and rolls on the mat in pain. XXXVI scoops up the chair. He rams it top first into Charlie’s ribs. Then he places the chair across Charlie’s midsection. He scales the top rope.

Bama: Could it be? Could we be seeing the Final Countdown?

Todd: Couldn’t be happening to a nicer guy.

The masked man leaps, double foot stomp onto the chair on top of Charlie Nickles!

The man starts untying the mask and pulls it off.

Bama: That’s Charlie’s former partner in the B.o.B! It’s Jordan Penn!

Todd: Of course it is, Bama! Charlie attacked him at Bad Medicine, costing them a chance to regain the tag team titles.

Bama: Yes, but don’t forget the why. Jordan took out Jennie, Charlie’s sister!

Jordan takes a microphone. He plants the feet of the chair over Charlie’s neck.

Jordan Penn: You. Me. Red Dead Relentless. Bull rope match.

He stomps Charlie.

Penn: Bitch.

He drops the microphone and takes the chair backstage.

TODD: Folks, the match before our main event is a DREAM match-up! Two women who have dominated the wrestling world everywhere they’ve gone meeting for the very first time in a wrestling ring!

BAMA: One’s wrestling royalty, Toddrick! A RAVEN who at this point might be the Giselle to Jimmy’s Tom Brady in terms of bringing more to the table! The other is a legend of the industry, decades in the game, who’s still managing to maintain her position among the highest echelons of the industry!

TODD: Two titans are about to collide! But only one can win! And with it will come the opportunity to challenge for either the Revolution Title OR the Anarchy Title!

The sound of a vintage picture reel began to click and pop, the screen illuminating up counting down like a picture show. The pops, scratches, nicks and debris covered the screen, the numbers counting down, 5...4....3....2....1....as the reel continued, electric synth music cuts, industrial and ominous

##The road I walk is paved in gold###
##To glorify my platinum soul##
##I'll buy my way to talk to God##
##So he can live with what I'm not3##

On the screen, a barrage of action shots, in still form from Apathy's career, centered and fixated, like an old film would. As the arena went down, red and white lights bathing the fans in a sea of color, Elizabeth rises from beneath the stage, head lowered, arms outstretched. A mixed chorus of boos, jeers and cheers pelted at her. She gradually raises her head, soaking in the animosity and fervent support. Inhaling it like a drug

##This selfish blood runs through my veins##
##I gave up everything for fame##
##I am the lie that humans are##
##I feed the rich and fuck the poor##

TODD: Here she is! Apathy! Last we saw her on Anarchy, she beat Thursday Night’s workhorse, Mister Oz! No small feat!

BAMA: Absolutely not, Toddrick! Apathy’s 5’8” and 220 pounds. And we saw her bench-pressing, strength-training… she’s got that ox strength! That hoss POWAH! That made the usually imposing, dominant Oz look like he was fighting someone his size!

TODD: Apathy is strong! She’s got a lot of experience from decades in the ring! And she’s driven by a desire to keep her name recognition in the interest of being there for her daughter who’s making the climb from the independents to the major leagues! But tonight might be one the biggest challenges of her lengthy career! Can she get the job done tonight?

As the heavy bass kicks in and the words reverberate through the arena, she snaps her head up, a cocky self-assured smirk creeping across her lips as she saunters her way to the ring casually engaging towards the fans either encouraging more of their venomous verbal harassment or acknowledging the respect and adoration from her legions and devotees, basking in the glow

#I got what you want#
#It just don't stop#

#I got what you want#
#It just don't stop#
#This is entertainment#
#Lies are entertainment#
#You are down on your knees#
#Begging me for more#

…

The arena blacks out and few seconds pass before the words

HELLO DOVES glitch across the screen.

Automatically the crowd pops with a thunderous OPA! in unison and in just milliseconds after...

....BOOM

Pyro explodes in ultraviolet and hot pink flames! The first synth of “Alphapussy” hits like a strobe heartbeat and Atara Raven, Aphrodite Incarnate appears posed at the top of the ramp with her hips cocked and arms overhead. She begins her her strut to the ring, each step synced to the beat, and her hips rolling in a figure-eight roll and every movement teasing and deliberate.

TODD: THE APPLAUSE IS DEFEANING FOR ATARA RAVEN! One of the XWF’s most beloved personalities is BACK on Anarchy!

BAMA: And it feels more like Anarchy with Atty Raven in the building! She’s dominated and turned heads everywhere she’s gone in the wrestling world! But can she beat Apathy, one of the best to ever do it?

TODD: Atara Raven has that grit… that gear… to take a match against any opponent and take it on any night! But will it be enough tonight to take on one of the most learned opponents in all of wrestling?

Mid-ramp she stops and whips her hair while melting into a body roll that slows into a low grind that ends with a sharp pop of the hips before she's upright and strutting towards the ring again. Shimmying up the steps, Atara walks to the middle of the apron and throws a leg over the middle rope and enters the ring with the ol 2000s Diva bend over pause.

Middle of the ring, she poses arms wide, hips pulsing, head thrown back as lasers explode and the music distorts into and fades away.

…

The arena is already buzzing with anticipation but the ring is still.

On one side, Atara Raven—the Greek goddess of combat. A woman who carries herself like she stepped out of a marble statue, all elegance and confidence, but whose hands have been trained to hurt people. The fans roar as she bounces lightly on the balls of her feet, shoulders loose, eyes locked on her opponent.

Across from her stands Elizabeth Devereaux-O’Rourke. The woman known as Apathy.

A completely different kind of fighter.

No bouncing. No wasted movement. No theatrics.

Just a woman built like she was carved out of a fortress wall, staring across the ring with the expression of someone who has already survived worse than anything waiting for her tonight.

TODD: “Ladies and gentlemen, you can feel the atmosphere in this building right now. This is not just a match. This is a collision between two philosophies of professional wrestling!”

BAMA: “Philosophies? Todd, they're two people trying to hit each other until one of them can't get up. Don't overcomplicate it.”

TODD: “You say that, but look at the resumes of these two women! Atara Raven is one of the most unique athletes in the sport today. Her pankration style combines ancient Greek combat traditions with modern wrestling. Apathy is a veteran who has fought through injuries, adversity, and years of punishment to remain one of the most feared competitors in this company.”

BAMA: “Yeah, and one of them looks like she drinks protein shakes and the other one looks like she drinks regret for breakfast.”

The bell rings.

ATARA RAVEN
- vs -
APATHY

NUMBER 1 CONTENDER'S MATCH!

The winner of this standard singles match becomes the no. 1 contender to the blue show championship belt of their choosing!

The two circle.

A lockup.

And immediately, the difference is obvious.

Atara shoots for positioning, trying to get around the side, but Apathy plants her feet.

The smaller movements, the quick adjustments, the subtle shifts of weight—Atara is looking for angles.

Apathy is looking for a collision.

Atara tries to slip behind.

Apathy catches her.

The crowd erupts as Apathy wraps her arms around Atara's waist and lifts.

A thunderous overhead belly-to-belly suplex!

Atara crashes hard and rolls through, quickly creating distance.

TODD: “OH MY! Apathy just picked Atty Raven up like she weighed nothing!”

BAMA: “That’s the problem with all that fancy footwork. Sometimes you dance yourself right into somebody who can throw you through the floor.”

Atara sits up, rubbing her back.

She nods.

She rises and returns to her stance.

This time, she moves faster.

Atara darts forward.

A jab snaps against Apathy’s guard.

A second strike follows.

A sharp body shot.

A quick kick to the thigh.

Apathy tries to close the distance, but Atara is already gone.

The crowd begins to buzz as Atara strings together combinations, moving with the kind of fluidity that comes from years of combat sports training.

TODD: “Look at the difference! Apathy wants to grab hold and turn this into a power contest. Atara Raven wants to keep this at her pace!”

BAMA: “Atty ain’t just wrasslin’, she’s taking this match to a style only she’s mastered: that combination of rhythm and combat! That beautiful violent dance called pankration! And that's smart. You don't play tug-of-war with a bulldozer, Todd. Unless you want to become a speed bump.”

Atara lands a heavy right hand.

Apathy staggers back half a step.

The crowd gasps.

TODD: Holy SHIT, Atara actually knocked Apathy off-balance!

BAMA: Not a good sign for Atty when we’re all impressed she managed to gently nudge her opponent! But that is more than most can do against Apathy! Good on her!

Atara sees the opening.

She runs.

A flying knee—

Apathy catches her.

The arena explodes.

Apathy has her.

The speed has been neutralized.

Atara struggles, trying to shift her weight, trying to escape.

Apathy doesn't let go.

She drives forward.

A crushing suplex to the corner!

The ring shakes.

TODD: “THE POWER OF APATHY!”

BAMA: “That's the thing, Todd. You can be as pretty and graceful as you want, but eventually gravity always gets involved.”

Apathy doesn't waste time.

She pulls Atara up.

A second attempt at a suplex.

But Atara adapts.

She twists.

Uses Apathy’s own momentum.

A beautiful escape.

She lands behind her.

A quick strike to the back.

Another to the shoulder.

Then Atara hooks Apathy’s arm and transitions into a wrestling hold, trying to drag the powerhouse off balance.

Apathy grunts.

She tries to muscle through.

Atara uses leverage instead of strength.

The crowd reacts as the two philosophies clash in real time.

TODD: This is a truly beautiful contrast! Power versus technique. Force versus precision.

The veteran brawler versus the modern combat athlete.

Apathy tries to overpower the hold.

Atara tries to make Apathy carry her own weight.

For a moment, neither woman gives an inch.

Then Apathy roars.

She simply stands.

With Atara still attached.

The crowd rises.

Apathy turns.

And launches Atara across the ring with sheer force.

Atara lands, rolls, springs back to her feet—

But Apathy is already charging.

Atara ducks.

Apathy hits the ropes.

Atara pivots.

A picture-perfect martial arts kick catches Apathy across the jaw.

Apathy stumbles.

Atara steps forward.

A combination.

One.

Two.

Three.

Apathy covers up.

Atara fires again.

Apathy absorbs.

The crowd is losing its mind.

TODD: “This is exactly what the fans came to see! Two elite competitors with completely different approaches, and neither one has been able to solve the other!”

BAMA: “I'll give them this, Todd. They're both stubborn enough to make this a problem.”

Atara backs away, breathing hard.

Apathy wipes her mouth.

A small smile crosses her face.

Atara sees it.

And she nods back.

[CONTINUE FROM HERE]
TODD: “You can see the difference right now, Bama. Atara Raven has spent years maintaining herself as an athlete. Her entire philosophy is discipline, conditioning, longevity.”

BAMA: “Yeah, and Apathy has spent twenty years lifting things AND getting hit by things that would make normal people call an ambulance.”

TODD: “That's not exactly a training regimen.”

BAMA: “No, Todd, but it builds character.”

Atara sees the opening.

She steps forward.

A sharp jab.

A second strike.

A quick kick to the ribs.

Apathy reaches for her—

Atara slips away.

TODD: A beautiful display of efficiency by Raven! Every movement has purpose.

BAMA: Atty ain’t wastin’ energy trying to overpower Apathy anymore. She knows better. Instead, she’s chippin’ away, one strike at a time!

Strike.

Slip out of Apathy’s reach!

Strike.

Apathy throws a desperate haymaker to try and catch Atty off-guard!

…NO! Instead, Atara catches Apathy’s arm.

A wrist lock.

A transition.

Suddenly she is behind the bigger woman, dragging her down into a grounded hold.

Apathy grits her teeth.

She reaches.

She pulls.

But Atara adjusts.

A knee pressed into the shoulder.

A forearm across the upper back.

TODD: “Atara Raven has completely changed the pace of this match! She recognized that she doesn't need to beat Apathy in a strength contest!”

BAMA: “Smart. You don't try to out-muscle a freight train. You just figure out where the tracks are and get out of the way.”

Apathy snorts frustrated, muscling herself off the mat, fighting back to her feet.

Atara immediately snaps a kick into the back of Apathy’s thigh.

Apathy drops to one knee.

Atara moves in.

Another strike.

Another.

BAMA: Atty knows you ain’t bring a fort down from the top floor, you break it down the foundation and let the structure collapse on itself!

TODD: But this crowd knows Apathy! They know she’ll never stay down as long as she’s got breath in her body!

BAMA: Lizzie’s a tank alright, but you ain’t gotta break a tank’s engine to stop it, you just break its treads.

The crowd starts to rally behind the veteran.

Apathy suddenly surges up with her hands!

SNAPMARE! Raven goes up and over!

Atara zips back to her feet before Apathy can regain a vertical base!

Apathy shoves her way off the mat just as Atty charges!

Looking for a…

JUDGMENT OF PARIS!

…

NO! Apathy catches her.

The entire arena erupts.

A sudden explosion of strength.

Apathy hooks Atara around the waist.

Lifts.

Turns.

FALLAWAY SLAM!

The ring shakes as Atara crashes onto the canvas.

TODD: “WHAT POWER!”

BAMA: “And that's why you can't get comfortable against Apathy! You can be winning every second of the match, and then suddenly you're looking at the lights!”

Apathy rolls over.

She barely has enough energy to crawl.

But instinct takes over.

She drapes an arm across Atara's chest.

One.

Two—

KICKOUT!

Atara shoots a shoulder up just before three!

The crowd explodes.

Apathy closes her eyes for a moment.

Not frustration.

Exhaustion.

She knows exactly how close she was.

She tries to push herself away from Atara, trying to recover.

But Atara is still dangerous.

The moment Apathy turns—

Atara moves.

Her legs snake around Apathy’s head.

Her body twists.

The crowd realizes what is happening.

TODD: “WAIT! WAIT A SECOND!”

Atara locks her hands.

GOGOPLATA!

Apathy’s eyes widen.

The pressure begins.

Atara isn't just trying to choke her out.

She's trying to make the strongest woman in the match submit.

BAMA: “Now this is where experience matters! Lizzie’s got the size advantage, but that doesn't matter if you can't breathe!”

Apathy claws at Atara's legs.

Her face turns red.

The referee drops down.

“Do you want to quit?”

Apathy doesn't answer.

She shakes her head.

No.

Absolutely not.

The crowd begins chanting.

“APATHY! APATHY! APATHY!”

Atara tightens the hold.

Apathy’s hand rises.

The referee watches closely.

For a moment, it looks like the end.

Then—

Apathy’s eyes change.

TODD: You can see it in Apathy’s eyes! That stubbornness. That refusal. That thing that has carried her through every broken bone, every setback, every person telling her it was time to stop!

She starts lifting.

TODD: “WHAT IS SHE DOING?!”

Apathy plants her feet.

She’S LIFTING ATARA

With the choke STILL locked in!!!

The crowd cannot believe it.

TODD: “I’ve… I’ve never seen anything like this!

BAMA: “Cuz that ain’t a wrestling move! That's a woman having a disagreement with physics!”

Slowly.

Painfully.

Apathy forces Atara's back off the mat…

SHE REACHES HER FEET! WITH RAVEN ON HER SHOULDERS IN POWERBOMB POSITION!

The crowd is thunderous.

Elizabeth turns.

TODD: She is trying to powerbomb her way out!

POWERB-

…NO!

At the last possible second—

Atara releases.

She front rolls over Elizabeth's back.

Landing behind her.

Elizabeth spins around.

Confused.

Atara is already moving.

She sprints.

The crowd rises.

Elizabeth turns.

She sees Atara coming.

She lowers her shoulder.

Looking to flatten her.

But Atara leaps.

She launches herself forward.

A flash of pink and black.

A perfectly timed strike.

JUDGEMENT OF PARIS!

…

KERACK!

TODD: AHHHHHHH! That knee sounded like a THUNDER CLAP!

The running knee crashes into Apathy’s skull.

The sound echoes.

Apathy collapses backward.

Flat on her back.

Atara falls with her momentum.

The entire arena erupts.

TODD: “JUDGEMENT OF PARIS! SHE GOT ALL OF IT!”

BAMA: “That might be it! Nobody gets hit with that and just gets back up!”

Atara crawls.

Every movement hurts.

Every breath burns.

But she reaches.

She hooks the leg.

Cover.

ONE…

TWO…

THRE-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Apathy’s shoulder explodes off the mat!

The referee's hand stops inches from the canvas.

The crowd loses their minds.

Atara is shot off Apathy’s chest! She stares upward at the rafters in shock!

TODD: Atara is beside herself! She can't believe that didn’t do it!

Atara rolls onto her back.

Both women are down.

Both women are breathing hard.

Both women are staring at the ceiling.

The referee begins counting.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

The crowd rises with every number.

Five.

Six.

Atara pushes onto one elbow.

Elizabeth rolls onto her knees.

Seven.

Eight.

They look across the ring.

Nine.

Both women pull themselves up!

The crowd is already on its feet before either woman has even fully made it vertical.

[CONTINUE FROM HERE]

TODD: This crowd is absolutely on fire!

BAMA: Because everyone in the building understands what they are watching! This ain’t a contest of who’s philosophy is better… This is a battle of who wants it MORE!

Atara Raven wipes the sweat from her brow and takes a deep breath.

Elizabeth Devereaux-O’Rourke rolls her shoulders, her entire body screaming at her to stay down.

Neither listens.

TODD: “Ladies and gentlemen, I don't know how either of these women are still standing!”

BAMA: “Because they're both too stubborn, Todd. That's the answer. Neither one of them has the good sense to stay down.”

Atara steps forward first.

A sharp right hand.

Apathy blocks and fires back!

Elizabeth fires back.

A heavy forearm catches Atara across the chest.

Atara stumbles.

Apathy follows.

Another strike.

A third.

TODD: Some mean, ugly strikes from Apathy!

BAMA: Ugly but effective! Lizzie ain’t throwing punches like a boxer. She’s throwing punches like a woman trying to knock down a wall.

Atara absorbs the impact.

Backs away.

Then fires back.

A lightning-fast combination.

Palm strike.

Elbow.

Kick to the leg.

Apathy’s knee buckles slightly.

Atara sees it.

She moves in.

She wants to end this.

A running knee—

Apathy ducks.

Atara lands awkwardly.

Elizabeth spins.

SPINNING BACKFIST!

The crowd gasps.

But Atara ducks!

The fist cuts through empty air.

And in the same motion—

Atara moves behind her.

A flash of brilliance.

She drives her shoulder into Apathy’s back.

She hooks her arms.

The crowd recognizes it immediately.

TODD: “WAIT! WAIT! SHE'S GOT HER! BIRTH OF VENUS!”

BAMA: The move that has put away a helluva lotta opponents!

Atara arches her back, lifting Apathy up looking for that devastating off-the-shoulder…

BIRTH!

OF!

VENUS!

…

……

NO!

Apathy fights the lift.

Her legs swing.

Her weight shifts.

And somehow—

Somehow—

Elizabeth lands on her feet!

The building explodes.

BAMA: “OH COME ON! THAT WOMAN JUST SAID ‘NOPE’ TO GRAVITY!”

Atara turns around.

Her eyes widen.

Elizabeth grabs her.

The crowd erupts.

The exhausted veteran reaches down and summons what strength she has left!

Strength.

Power.

Pure stubbornness.

She lifts Atara.

The crowd knows what’s coming…

Elizabeth adjusts her grip.

Atara is fighting.

Kicking.

Reaching.

But Elizabeth has her.

The spin.

The drop.

The IMPACT!

DEATH

BEFORE

DISHONOR

…

……

CONNECTS!

Atara Raven crashes face-first into the canvas.

The entire ring shakes.

Apathy collapses with her, draping an arm across Atara's chest.

The referee slides into position.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

THE BELL RINGS.

Winner: Apathy

The arena erupts.

TODD: “APATHY HAS DONE IT!”

BAMA: “I'll give her credit, Todd. I didn't think she had enough left in that old engine.”

TODD: “Old engine?!”

BAMA: “I'm complimenting her! That's a compliment where I'm from!”

Apathy rolls onto her back, staring at the ceiling.

She doesn't immediately move.

She doesn't immediately celebrate.

She just breathes.

Then she looks across the ring.

Atara is slowly sitting up.

And for a moment, the two women simply look at each other.

TODD: Lot of emotion here! Both these women wanted this one with all they got!

…

Atara nods.

Elizabeth extends her hand.

Atara takes it.

The crowd roars as the two competitors pull each other up.

[blue]TODD: “What a match. What an incredible display of athleticism, heart, and determination from two of the very best in the world!”

BAMA:
“Yeah, yeah. I'll admit it. That was a fight.”

TODD:
“A fight?”

BAMA:
“Fine. A wrestling match. Don't make me say nice things twice.”

TODD: Folks, it’s been an absolute barnburner of a show, but we’re finally onto tonight’s main event! The Anarchy championship is on the line!

BAMA: And we got dynamite, a lit match and a barrel full of YEET! Things are set to explode tonight, Toddy baby!

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!”

TODD: Centurion! Three-time Anarchy champion AND long-time Micheal Graves adversary! Somehow, some way, Cent found a way with his very talented rookie partner, Oleandyr Reitan, and they beat the Midnight Stalkers for the Anarchy Tag Titles!

BAMA: That’s Furry’s mentor, Toddrick! That’s a big win headed into this match!

TODD: And one of Cent’s few losses this year was to Miss Furry at March Madness! You have to imagine he’d love to be a double Anarchy champion and erase the memory of that loss… But imagine if he loses twice to Furry back-to-back!

BAMA: Or if he loses to ‘Main Event’ Jay Fetu!

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 lights dim as the opening drums of She's My Collar roll through the arena. Miss Furry steps out slowly, but doesn’t acknowledge the crowd.

TODD: One-hundred-and-thirty days and counting for Miss Furry’s Anarchy championship reign! When we first saw Miss Furry enter an Anarchy ring, I think no one had any idea she had this kind of run in her! But she’s beaten every challenger that’s dared challenge for her belt… And she continues to be undefeated in singles matches on Anarchy!

BAMA: But tonight could be the night it ends, Toddrick! Furry’s not only facing Centurion, a THREE-TIME Anarchy champion with a score to settle after Furry stopped him from being a four-time champ at March Madness… but she’s also gotta deal with ‘Main Event’ Jay Fetu, who called his own number demanding a match with Furry!

TODD: AND neither of them have to beat Furry for her to lose the title tonight, Bama! It’s first pinfall OR submission OR escape from the cage leaves with the Anarchy Title![/blue]

She calmly walks the ramp and slips between the ropes with minimal effort. She settles into the corner, leaning back casually, licking her paw and cleaning herself in preparation of the upcoming match.

…

The official raises the Anarchy Championship high overhead.

Centurion never breaks eye contact with Miss Furry.

Miss Furry never breaks eye contact with Centurion.

Jay Fetu...

...looks at the championship.

The referee hands the title to ringside through the cage door to the timekeeper.

TODD: Ladies and gentlemen, the XWF Anarchy Championship hangs in the balance inside this steel cage! Three competitors, three ways to win! Pinfall, submission, or escape, and we crown an Anarchy Champion!

BAMA: Which means Miss Furry don't even have to lose to lose, Todd! She can wrestle the match of her life and still watch one of these boys steal her belt if she takes her eye off 'em for one second!

DING! DING! DING!

MISS FURRY ©
- vs -
JAY FETU
- vs -
CENTURION ©

STEEL CAGE CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH!

The first person to escape the cage OR score a pinfall/submission inside the cage is the Anarchy Champion!

The official is barely done signalling for the bell before Jay explodes.

"YEET!"

Fetu lunges straight through the middle, throwing both forearms out like a battering ram.

Centurion and Miss Furry barely have time to react before the Samoan powerhouse CRASHES into both of them with a DOUBLE SHOULDER BLOCK, driving them backwards into opposite sides of the cage with a deafening metallic BANG!

The steel rattles.

The crowd erupts.

TODD: Jay Fetu wasting absolutely no time!

BAMA: That's what I've been tellin' you! Those other two got history! Jay's got HUNGER!

Fetu turns immediately toward Centurion, back tangled against the steel.

The veteran's jaw tightens.

He plants his feet.

Jay swings a massive right hand—

Centurion slips underneath.

A sharp elbow clips Jay behind the ear.

Another to the ribs.

Another.

But Fetu refuses to back down!

TODD: Fetu is taking all these blows on the chin!

BAMA: He ain’t letting anything knock him down cuz he could miss his moment, Toddrick!

Cent reels back his arm…

CHOP!

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Fetu snarls, fists tight and he howls in Cent’s face!

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET!

Centurion's eyes widen.

TODD: Centurion looks surprised and impressed!

BAMA: I think that’s just confused. He’s gotta ask one of his daughter’s lovers what the hell ‘yeet’ means after this match.

Cent tries to reel back his fist for another body blow…

But Jay grabs Centurion by the wrist.

Jerks him forward.

BELLY-TO-BELLY!

Centurion flies nearly halfway across the ring before skidding underneath the bottom rope and sliding into the cage!

TODD: Good Lord!

BAMA: That old man just got LAUNCHED!

TODD: YEETED, you mean!

BAMA: …Oh, yeah.

Jay barely acknowledges it.

He spins—

Miss Furry is standing… studying Fetu with her eyes.

Jay takes one heavy step, looking for an overhand punch!

But Furry immediately arm drags him clean over her shoulder.

Jay rolls through surprisingly fast.

Back to his feet.

Furry rushes in—

Short knee.

Another.

Another.

Each one thudding into Jay's ribs.

She hooks his arm.

Twists.

Grounded headlock.

TODD: This is what has made Furry so effective as Anarchy champion! Her eye for wrestling!

BAMA: She ain’t obsessed with ego or proving she’s the best. She just looks at her opponent and really sees them. They’re so busy blowing smoke and hot air, they don’t even see her rolling them up from behind!

Jay powers upward almost immediately, muscles bulging beneath the hold.

Miss Furry doesn't fight the strength.

She simply shifts her weight.

Lets go.

Drops behind him.

Running basement dropkick to the back of Jay's knee.

The wildcard stumbles.

Not down.

Just...

lower.

Exactly where she wanted him.

TODD: That's exactly what Miss Furry talked about! She isn't trying to overpower Jay Fetu!

BAMA: She's tryin' to saw down the most explosive tree in the forest! He ain’t gon’ be able to yeet off one of them superkicks if his leg’s busted!

Fetu collapses onto his back, holding his knee.

Furry grabs Fetu’s leg, looking to do more damage…

When Centurion quietly slips behind the champ!

TODD: Uh oh! Furry took her eye off her opponent!

BAMA: Cuz it was on her OTHER opponent! Triple-threat, baby!

Centurion grabs her around the waist.

Furry’s hair stands on end!

German—

No.

Furry stamps hard onto his foot.

Snaps an elbow backward into his jaw.

Spins.

Jawbreaker.

Centurion staggers.

Furry immediately plants both hands against his chest—

Running Facebuster!

Centurion bounces face-first off the canvas.

The champion doesn't celebrate.

She simply pivots—

As Jay Fetu charges!

TODD: Holy cow! Furry’s taking on all comers!

BAMA: But this is not where you want to be in a triple-threat, Toddrick! The one fighting everybody is the one getting tired the fastest!

Miss Furry darts underneath a wild clothesline from Fetu, catches his wrist, and attempts to roll him into a Leg Trap Roll-Up!

TODD: Furry’s trying to steal this one!

ONE—

Jay kicks out before two, launching Furry halfway across the ring with pure power.

She rolls back onto one knee.

Jay is already sprinting.

FETU SPEAR!!

As Cent charges Furry from behind!

…But Furry leaps over with her catlike reflexes!

Jay's shoulder misses Miss Furry by inches—

—and instead BURIES itself into Centurion's ribs!

The veteran folds in half before both men BLAST through the ropes and slam against the steel cage.

The chain-link explodes with noise.

CLANG!!

The audience gasps.

TODD: Holy cow! Furry is looking dominant tonight!

In the mass of flesh that results from Fetu’s spear, Jay shakes the cobwebs loose first.

He grabs Centurion by the head.

Drives repeated forearms into his back.

One.

Two.

Three.

Centurion answers with a thumb across Jay's eyes.

The referee warns him immediately.

TODD: Cent’s a wily veteran!

BAMA: He ain’t playin’ dirty, that’s not his style. He just knows exactly how to slow down a speedster like Fetu!

Jay covers his eye

Cent shoves Jay backward.

The younger man rebounds off the cage.

Comes right back.

Running Hip Attack!

Centurion ducks.

Jay's hip SMASHES against the steel instead.

The impact echoes throughout the arena.

Jay grimaces.

Furry explodes forward.

CAT'S CRADLE!

A lightning-fast snapmare sends Jay rolling across the canvas before she rebounds off the ropes—

LOW DROPKICK!

CRACK!

The heel of her boot smashes into the back of Jay's head.

The challenger spills forward face-first.

The crowd roars.

TODD: Cat's Cradle! Picture-perfect!

Miss Furry hooks both legs immediately.

ONE!

TWO!

THR-NO! Cent breaks it up with a stomp to Furry’s skull!

TODD: Ooooh, that could have ended it if Cent wasn’t there!

Furry cradles her neck that Cent just stomped, raising her guard to avoid more strikes…

But Cent doesn’t keep striking.
He looks toward the corner.

Looks up.

The top of the cage.

The veteran suddenly sprints.

TODD: Wait a minute!

The audience rises as Centurion plants one boot on the turnbuckle, another against the chain-link, and begins climbing with surprising speed for a man his age.

BAMA: See?! That's why you don't waste time pinning somebody in a triple threat!

Miss Furry's head snaps toward the rattling steel.

Her eyes widen.

Centurion doesn't even look back.

One hand.

Then another.

Already climbing toward freedom while champion and challenger remain tangled on the mat.

TODD: Cent’s trying to turn this wrestling match into a climbing race!

BAMA: That's why he's a three-time Anarchy Champion! You ain't gotta beat nobody if you can outsmart 'em!

Miss Furry springs to her feet.

Centurion is nearly at the top before he hears the chain-link rattle beneath him.

He glances over one shoulder.

Too late.

Miss Furry scales the side of the cage with startling speed, her fingers and feet finding purchase almost effortlessly as she closes the gap.

TODD: Look at the champion climb!

BAMA: I told you she's built like a damn housecat!

Furry reaches up—

Hooks Centurion around the waist—

—and YANKS him backwards off the cage!

The crowd gasps.

Centurion crashes toward the canvas—

—but the veteran twists in midair and lands on both feet, stumbling backward just enough to stay upright.

Furry pushes herself away from the cage.

Launching.

Spinning.

TODD: Furry’s going for Nine Lives Lost!

BAMA: She can hit that move from outta nowhere!

The rapid cutter comes flying toward Centurion's jaw—

NINE LIVES LOST!!

…NO!

Instead, instinct takes over.

Centurion steps backward at the last possible second.

Nothing to catch.

Nothing to cut.

Miss Furry crashes flat onto the mat.

SPLAT!

A sympathetic groan rolls through the arena.

BAMA: I thought cats always landed on their feet!

TODD: She gambled everything on Nine Lives Lost and Centurion just wasn't there!

Furry immediately tries to push herself up.

Centurion doesn't give her the chance.

He grabs both ankles.

Steps through.

Turns her over.

FALL OF ROME!! (Walls of Jericho)

TODD: FALL OF ROME! FALL OF ROME! Cent’s got Furry locked in his submission, dead-center of the ring!

Centurion drops his weight low, sitting deep into the hold.

Furry's back bends violently.

Her fingers claw at the canvas.

Her face twists in agony.

TODD: She's trapped!

BAMA: Nowhere to crawl! Nowhere to hide! That cage just became four brick walls!

The referee drops beside them.

"Do you submit?!"

Furry shakes her head.

Her hand trembles...

Rises...

The crowd comes alive.

Not for the submission.

For something else.

"YEET!"

"YEET!"

"YEET!"

Centurion's brow furrows.

He doesn't look.

He cranks the hold tighter.

The chants grow louder.

"YEET!"

"YEET!"

Finally...

Centurion turns his head.

His expression changes instantly.

Jay Fetu is already halfway up the cage.

TODD: FETU'S CLIMBING! FETU’S GONNA STEAL THIS ONE!

BAMA: Cent was so busy tryin’ ta make Furry tap, he didn’t even realize he left Fetu a free road to the title!

Furry’s arm shakes… Could she tap before Fetu escapes?

…Not enough time! Too risky! Centurion releases the hold without hesitation.

Miss Furry collapses onto the canvas, gasping for air as Centurion explodes toward the corner.

BAMA: That's exactly what this match is! Sometimes the right move ain't the winning move!

Jay reaches the top.

One hand over the rim.

Then another.

One leg swings over the outside.

The Boise crowd is deafening.

"YEET!"

"YEET!"

Centurion reaches him just in time.

He begins hammering clubbing forearms into Fetu's back.

One.

Two.

Three.

Jay hangs on.

Barely.

Centurion starts climbing beside him, refusing to let the younger challenger escape.

The veteran hauls himself level with Fetu.

Both men now balanced precariously atop the steel.

Twenty feet above the ring.

The entire arena rises.

TODD: No... don't even think about it…

Centurion muscles Jay across his shoulders.

The crowd loses its mind.

BAMA: HE'S GOIN' FOR THE THOUSAND MILE SLAM FROM THE TOP OF THE CAGE!!

Centurion shifts his footing.

One more second—

Jay slips free behind him.

Shoves both palms square into Centurion's back.

The veteran windmills desperately.

Trying to regain his balance.

Jay is precariously balanced on the cage!

SUPERKICK!!

CRACK!!

Centurion teeters backward.

The crowd collectively holds its breath.

For one horrifying instant...

...it looks like he's going to fall to the floor outside.

Instead—

He tumbles backward into the ring.

BOOM!!

The canvas shakes violently beneath him.

Centurion rolls onto his back, clutching his ribs and stomach, completely stunned.

TODD: Thank God he fell back into the ring!

BAMA: If he'd fallen the other way he'd be a four-time Anarchy Champion...

...and probably eatin' dinner through a straw!

Jay steadies himself atop the cage…

TODD: Jay has this match won! He’s just gotta climb down!

… But Jay doesn’t look to the outside. Instead, he looks out across the sea of fans.

They already know.

Every arm in the arena shoots into the air.

"YEET!"

"YEET!"

"YEET!"

Jay nods.

Spreads both arms.

Then leaps.

FETU SPLASH!!

From the TOP OF THE CAGE!

TODD: OH MY GOD!

The impact nearly folds Centurion in half.

The ring shudders.

The audience explodes.

TODD: HE HIT IT!! FROM THE TOP OF THE CAGE!!

BAMA: WE GOT A NEW CHAMPION! WE GOTTA HAVE A NEW CHAMPION!

Jay lies motionless for a heartbeat.

Every ounce of energy spent.

Slowly...

Painfully...

Fetu begins crawling toward Centurion.

One elbow.

Then another.

His fingertips stretch toward the cover.

The championship is inches away.

Then...

A hand wraps around his ankle.

Jay looks back.

Miss Furry.

TODD: Oh my GOD! Like a horror movie monster, Furry’s back!

BAMA: Jay burnt his whole body on that Fetu Splash! What’s he got left for Furry!

Furry tries to pull Jay away from Cent…

But Jay manages to wrench his leg back and kick Furry in the chest!

Furry backpedals against the ropes and steel cage!

Fetu kips up!

TODD: Where is Fetu finding this energy!

BAMA: It’s this crowd! Boise is YEET STREET!

Furry staggers toward Jay!

Jay turns and fires off a…

SUPERKICK!

…

NO!

Miss Furry ducks underneath it.

The kick whistles harmlessly over her head.

Jay’s boot sails past, hitting nothing!

He spins to try and catch Furry on the way back…

But Furry’s already leaping to catch where his head’s going to be!

NINE

LIVES

LOOOOOOOOOOST!

The cutter lands flush.

Jay's head spikes into the canvas.

The crowd erupts.

TODD: NINE LIVES LOST! FROM OUTTA NOWHERE!

BAMA: SHE GOT ALL A THAT ONE!

Furry exhaustedly crawls…

She dives across Centurion's battered body!

TODD: She’s covering Cent!

BAMA: Of course she is! That Fetu Splash would have taken down a bull elephant!

The champ hooks both legs.

The referee slides into position.

TODD: NOT LIKE THIS!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

DING! DING! DING!

Winner and STILL XWF Anarchy Champion: Miss Furry!

The bell rings as Miss Furry releases the cover and rolls onto her back, exhausted.

TODD: SHE DID IT! Miss Furry survives again!

BAMA: That's why she's the champion! She didn't hit the biggest move... she hit the RIGHT move! Fetu destroyed Centurion, and Furry was patient enough to let the opportunity come to her!

The official retrieves the Anarchy Championship and kneels beside the champion.

Miss Furry accepts it without celebration.

She simply hugs the title against her chest.

THANKS TO ALL OF OUR WONDERFUL MATCH WRITERS

PETER PRINCIPAL
DOM DURANGO
THE EDGECRUSHER
CHARLIE NICKLES

AND OUR AMAZING SEGMENT WRITERS

JORDAN PENN
MARISOL VILARO

& OF COURSE, THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO RPED FOR THE SHOW!

]]>

XWF Anarchy
[Image: vuE1ZV0.png]

08 - 06 - 2026

LIVE FROM EXTRAMILE ARENA!

BOISE, IDAHO

DEENA HIXX
- vs -
KENTUCKY TAGGART
- vs -
SAFARI STU
- vs -
DOM DURANGO
- vs -
EL LANDERSON

OVER-THE-TOP-ROPE BATTLE ROYALE

The last person left inside the ring wins!

THE EDGECRUSHER
- vs -
TOMMY WISH

TABLES MATCH!

The first person to go through a table LOSES!

KRISTOFFER 'VAMP' ARROYO
- vs -
MR. OZ

X-TREME RULEZ MATCH!

Anything goes as these two juggernauts lay it all on the line!

FRANCES MARIGOLD
- vs -
CHARLIE NICKLES

X-TREME RULEZ MATCH!

See above!

ATARA RAVEN
- vs -
APATHY

NUMBER 1 CONTENDER'S MATCH!

The winner of this standard singles match becomes the no. 1 contender to the blue show championship belt of their choosing!

MISS FURRY ©
- vs -
JAY FETU
- vs -
CENTURION ©

STEEL CAGE CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH!

The first person to escape the cage OR score a pinfall/submission inside the cage is the Anarchy Champion!

DEENA HIXX
- vs -
KENTUCKY TAGGART
- vs -
SAFARI STU
- vs -
DOM DURANGO
- vs -
EL LANDERSON

OVER-THE-TOP-ROPE BATTLE ROYALE

The last person left inside the ring wins!

DEENA HIXX AND EL LANDERSON HAVE BEEN ELIMINATED

KENTUCKY TAGGART HAS BEEN ELIMINATED

Winner - Safari Stu

THE EDGECRUSHER
- vs -
TOMMY WISH

TABLES MATCH!

The first person to go through a table LOSES!

Winner - “Yummy Wish”

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. 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.

TODD: And there is Mister Oz! Last we saw him at Bad Medicine, he and Dom Durango went to WAR in Oz’s trademark Meathooks of Horror Match!

BAMA: That was less a wrestling match and more a live audience version of a true crime documentary! Blood and guts galore!

TODD: We’ve seen Oz look gloriously violent… but how will he handle an opponent as dominant and imposing as the Vamp, Kristoffer Arroyo!

Kristoffer Arroyo stands in the center of the ring with his hands folded neatly behind his back, posture immaculate, chin held high as though he were posing for an oil painting instead of preparing for sanctioned violence.

Across from him, Mister Oz simply stares.

Unblinking.

Unwavering.

The expression on his face is neither anger nor excitement.

It is judgment.

TODD: "Here we go! X-Treme Rules! No count-outs, no disqualifications, no limitations whatsoever!"

BAMA: "Boy, somebody oughta lock the exits. One of these fellas ain't leavin' here under his own power."

The bell rings.

KRISTOFFER 'VAMP' ARROYO
- vs -
MR. OZ

X-TREME RULEZ MATCH!

Anything goes as these two juggernauts lay it all on the line!

Winner: Kristoffer ‘Vamp’ Arroyo

FRANCES MARIGOLD
- vs -
CHARLIE NICKLES

X-TREME RULEZ MATCH!

Anything goes as these two juggernauts lay it all on the line!

Winner: Charlie Nickles

ATARA RAVEN
- vs -
APATHY

NUMBER 1 CONTENDER'S MATCH!

The winner of this standard singles match becomes the no. 1 contender to the blue show championship belt of their choosing!

Winner: Apathy

MISS FURRY ©
- vs -
JAY FETU
- vs -
CENTURION ©

STEEL CAGE CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH!

The first person to escape the cage OR score a pinfall/submission inside the cage is the Anarchy Champion!

Winner and STILL XWF Anarchy Champion: Miss Furry!

]]> <![CDATA[ANARCHY - 07/02/2026]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=50256 Thu, 02 Jul 2026 23:43:23 -0700 'Big' Dick Lichter]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=50256

XWF Anarchy
[Image: vuE1ZV0.png]

07 - 02 - 2026

LIVE FROM JOHN PAUL JONES ARENA!

CHARLOTTESVILLE, VIRGINIA

SOLOMON KLINE
- vs -
KENTUCKY
- vs -
EL LANDERSON

TRIPLE THREAT!

Three of Anarchy's rising stars square off in the opening bout! This match will help determine the roster's pecking order going forward!

BRAWLIEPOP BARBIE
- vs -
GCC'S DOM DURANGO

GRUDGE MATCH!

Barbie and Durango have unfinished business from last Anarchy! Let's see who comes out on top when the kitchen starts heating up for real.

MARISOL VILARO
- vs -
MR. OZ

X-TREME RULEZ MATCH!

Anything goes as these two Anarchy stalwarts lay it all on the line!

SUMMER PAGE ©
- vs -
JAY FETU

SINGLES MATCH!

The newly crowned Revolution Champion has another challenge this week, except this time she's taking on "MAIN EVENT" Jay Fetu! Non-title!

THE IMPOSTERS
- vs -
THE WOKE MIND VIRUS
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX & RAZOR BLADE

TRIPLE TEAM TAG MATCH!

Not quite anything goes in this standard rules triple team tag match, so everyone had better be on their best behaviors during the Co-Main Event!

Each team may submit a single 2,000 word RP OR two 1,000 word RPs!

DICKIE WATSON
- vs -
SAMAEL DYSON ©

X-TREME RULEZ LADDER MATCH!

Dyson's final defense! If Samael Dyson wins, he is awarded a 24/7 briefcase!

TODD: Folks, as all always, our opener could main event anywhere else in the world!

BAMA: Our appetizer’s a goddamned three-course meal, baby! That’s how you know you’re in the Land of X-Treme!

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.

TODD: There he is! Solomon Kline! The man who once called himself Psycho! Multiple time X-Treme champion!

BAMA: He’s taken his fair share of lumps recently, Toddrick! But there ain’t no denying, when Kline’s in top form, he’s a danger to anyone he’s in the ring with!

TODD: Absolutely, Kline had a yearlong Rookie of the Year campaign and in that time, he racked up accomplishments like clockwork! His Sophomore year has been a little more start-and-stop, but it’s important to remember just how close he came to clearing the previously-thought unbeatable, Kieran King! Can he get back on track with a huge victory tonight?

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.

…

The country twang of Stand Your Ground echoes as a mixed reaction echoes through the crowd. Tuck Taggart comes out from the back, a mean look on his face as he sneers at his opponent in the ring. He tips his hat to the camera before making his way down to the ring, shadowboxing as he moves across.

TODD: KENTUCKY! Tuck Taggart! The Bluegrass Badass! We saw him go to WAR with Frances Marigold on Warfare!

BAMA: Besides that, the only time we’ve seen this man is when he punched out Mark Zuckerberg… and all the times he’s tried to call Mister Oz to take him on in an old-school slapfight!

TODD: Oz insists he doesn’t know this man and that Tuck is not worth his time… but a win tonight would certainly support Tuck’s argument that he’s ready to go after Mister Oz!

Tuck climbs up the steps and places his hat right on the ring post. He cleans his boots off on the apron before he walks inside…

…

When Booyka 619 hit's he walks out on stage and kneels down on one knee and prays. He gets up and points to the Fans in Pyro fireworks burst open and switch to the other side of the stage in does the same thing in

TODD: El Landerson! The Bit Luchador! He lobbed a challenge in his promo at the fight of Samael Dyson!

BAMA: Dyson’s got his match later tonight defending his X-Treme title… and if he wins it, he’ll be leaving with a 24/7 briefcase!

TODD: Landerson might be too late to block Dyson, that’ll be up to Dickie Watson in tonight’s main event… but can he prove he deserves a shot to defend the X-Treme title?

after he was done he slowly walks down the ramp in slaps some little kids high fives and he stops and stares at the kid in hands him his Luchdor Mask to him and heads straight towards the ring and hops on the turnbuckle and pose both fingers in mid air and walks to the other side turnbuckle in does the same thing mid finger in the air in he gets down and wait for his Opponent arrive.

…

The referee looks from one corner to the next before signaling for the bell.

DING DING DING!

Kentucky "Tuck" Taggart plants his boots wide, chin lifted with smug confidence. His weathered face curls into a grin as he slowly raises one enormous hand.

He wiggles his fingers.

Inviting somebody...

Anybody...

To take the free slap.

TODD: "Taggart wasting absolutely no time playing mind games."

BAMA T: "That ain't mind games, Todd! That's Kentucky hospitality! Somebody come collect their complimentary concussion!"

Solomon Kline's lips flatten into an unimpressed line. He shakes his head once, refusing to indulge the old brawler.

Instead...

He turns toward El Landerson.

Tuck scowls with a Kentucky huff!

BAMA: Man, first Oz now Kline… nobody’s willing to take a slap straight-on from Tuck!

Landerson's eyes brighten behind his mask. His hands clap together excitedly before he bounces lightly on his toes.

The Bit Luchador eagerly accepts.

He sprints—

Springboard—

Somersault!

Tuck barely turns—

THWACK!

Flying lariat!

The veteran spins sideways and tumbles through the ropes before crashing to the floor.

The crowd erupts.

TODD: "Landerson strikes first!"

BAMA T: "That little mosquito done poked the bear!"

Landerson pumps both fists triumphantly.

He points toward the cheering crowd.

Too instantly.

Solomon watches the celebration with narrowed eyes.

His jaw tightens.

Without warning—

SUPERKICK!

CRACK!

Landerson's head snaps sideways.

The luchador spins completely around before collapsing to one knee.

TODD: "Kline making Landerson pay for admiring his own work!"

BAMA T: "Boy celebrated like he'd won the lottery after one clothesline!"

Outside...

Tuck slowly pushes himself upright.

His beard hides most of his expression...

Except the irritation burning in his eyes.

He spits.

Then smiles.

He calmly reaches beneath the apron.

Before sliding out—

A steel chair.

[bliue]TODD: Whoa whoa WHOOOOOOA! This is NOT an X-Treme Rules match![/blue]

The referee immediately points at it, shouting warnings, sliding outside to admonish Tuck!

Tuck looks almost offended.

He shrugs dramatically...

...before handing over the chair with a sigh…

The official nods approvingly, pulling up the apron to return the chair under the ring…

Tuck smiles innocently.

Then immediately reaches under the opposite side.

Pulling out ANOTHER CHAIR!

BAMA T: "HAHA! Tuck’s wilier than !"

Inside the ring...

Landerson tries to catch Kline with a…

Hurricanrana!

NO! Kline flips clean over—

Rolling through—

Landing on his feet!

The audience pops.

Landerson's eyes widen.

Both men charge in!

Collar-and-elbow tie-up!

Outside…

Tuck circles the ring with the chair!

The official looks up after replacing the chair… and starts hollering at Tuck following him, ordering him to give him the chair!

TODD: Uh oh! Tuck’s been caught before he’s had a chance to use that chair!

The referee holds his hand out…

Tuck folds the chair shut.

Not to use it.

To sit on it.

He unfolds it beside the ring.

Lights a Kentucky Select.

And mean-mugs the official…

TODD: "...He's... sitting down? …I mean, hitting your opponents with chairs is a DQ…. But sitting isn’t? I think Tuck is operating inside the rules, it’s just… a strange choice!”

BAMA T: "Strange like a Kentucky fox, Toddrick! Smartest man in this match. Let the young idiots soften each other up."

…The official blinks perplexed… before shrugging and sliding back in the ring…

Inside...

Landerson grits his teeth, refusing to be overpowered.

He ducks beneath Solomon's arm.

Arm wrench...

Inside cradle!

ONE—

Kline! kicks free immediately.

TODD: Landerson tried to steal that one!

BAMA: Those quick pins are exactly why El Landerson might think he’d been the X-Treme champ’s kryptonite! Or in spanish… ‘el kryptonite’!

Both scramble up.

Landerson charges again… Kline backs up to the corner! Landerson accelerates into a dive! The official tries to stay between them!

Stinger Splash—

NO! Kline hits the mat! Nobody home!

EXCEPT THE OFFICIAL!

Landerson crashes chest-first into the buckle, as Kline circle-steps around him!

Landerson’s face twists in pain.

He staggers backward...

Right into—

Blue Thunder Bomb!

Solomon stacks him high!

…

But the ref is out!

AND A STEEL CHAIR EXPLODES ACROSS KLINE’S BACK!

The crowd gasps.

Kline arches violently, letting go of the cover.

He looks up at Tuck who tosses the chair over the ropes…

Offering his hands for a slapfight!

TODD: "Kentucky Taggart just picked his spot!"

BAMA T: "It ain't cheating if the rules man’s unconscious, Toddy baby!"

TODD: I think Tuck got irritated Kline blew him off. That chairshot sent a message, and that message is ‘BOY, YOU SLAP FIGHT ME RIGHT NOW!’

Solomon's face reddens instantly.

His nostrils flare.

The chair shot doesn't scare him.

It insults him.

He slowly rises...

Rubbing his spine...

Never taking his eyes off Tuck.

Tuck answers with the same cocky grin.

Then raises one open hand again.

The arena buzzes.

Solomon's jaw flexes.

He storms forward—

SLAP—

No.

Tuck sidesteps.

Discus Punch!

The shot catches Solomon flush across the jaw.

Kline stumbles into the ropes...

Bounces back—

Pure rage replacing surprise.

He explodes forward—

SPEAR!

Tuck folds inside out.

Both men crash through the middle rope...

Landing hard on the floor together.

TODD: What a SHOT by Kline!

BAMA: Both these boys are swinging for the fences like this is the goddamned Home Run Derby!

Inside the ring...

Landerson slowly shakes away the cobwebs.

He blinks.

Looks left.

Looks right.

Nobody.

His eyes light up.

The opportunity is too good to ignore.

He sprints toward the ropes.

Springboard...

Balances effortlessly...

LANDERSON FROG SPLASH—

To the floor!

He crashes across both larger men, flattening all three in a spectacular pile at ringside.

The crowd leaps to its feet.

TODD: "What elevation! Landerson just sacrificed himself to wipe out both opponents!"

BAMA T: "That little feller's got more guts than common sense!"

All three men lie scattered around ringside...

Each slowly stirring...

The crowd's roar swells into a frenzy.

Landerson rolls onto all fours first.

His chest rises and falls rapidly.

Every breath hurts.

…

Solomon wipes blood from the corner of his mouth.

Taggart chuckles while pulling himself up with the barricade.

Solomon's nostrils flare and he charges the Bluegrass Badass!

He swings wildly.

Tuck leans away.

The punch whistles harmlessly past.

Taggart buries a heavy knee into Solomon's stomach.

The younger man doubles over.

Without hesitation—

Kentuckyplex!

The delayed vertical suplex leaves Solomon suspended impossibly high...

...before Tuck crashes him spine-first onto the ringside floor.

TODD: "Good Lord! That's concrete beneath those mats!"

BAMA T: "That's old man strength, baby! You can't teach that! You just gotta survive enough smacks upside your head to attain it!"

Inside...

Landerson sees both opponents brawling by the barricade

Hope floods his face.

Now.

He sprints!

Hops off the steps! Onto the apron’s edge!

ASAI MOONSAULT!

Perfect rotation—

…

But Solomon shoves Tuck out of the way and slips back himself!

Landerson’s chest hits the barricade!

TODD: Ouch! I think Kline was tired of Landerson getting to do whatever he wanted! He didn’t want to spare Tuck the pain, he just wanted Landerson to eat a stomach-full of metal!

Tuck breathes heavily by the barricade, as Kline grabs Landerson by the mask.

Solomon hauls the smaller man upright.

Landerson's eyes widen.

He reaches instinctively for Solomon's wrists.

Too late.

Blue Thunder Bomb—

OUT ON THE PADDED CONCRETE!

The tabletop explodes beneath Landerson.

The audience erupts.

[b][i]HOLY SHIT!

HOLY SHIT!

He drags Landerson toward the ring.

Rolls him inside.

Hooks both legs.

ONE!

TWO!

THR—

A massive boot crashes into Solomon's shoulder.

The pin breaks.

Tuck stands over both men.

[blue]TODD: I think Kline’s instincts might have kicked in after hitting Landerson with that sick move to try and finish it…

BAMA: Triple-threats are a unique challenge, Toddrick! Everything you know about a one-on-one contest goes out the window!

Taggart’s chest heaves.

His face has lost all traces of amusement.

He grabs Solomon by the scruff of the neck.

Yanks him upright.

Discus Punch—

NO!

Solomon ducks underneath.

German Suplex!

Tuck crashes hard...

...but immediately rolls to one knee.

The old brawler spits blood.

Then laughs.

TODD: "How is he getting up?!"

BAMA T: "Because hell don't want him back yet!"

Solomon doesn't laugh.

His expression twists with frustration.

He charges again.

Spear—

Tuck sidesteps—

Atomic Drop!

Solomon's entire body stiffens.

Before he can recover—

Inverted Atomic Drop!

The crowd groans collectively.

Tuck doesn't stop.

He hooks Solomon's arms.

Piledriver!

The ring shakes.

Cover.

ONE!

TWO!

Landerson flies through the air—

Reverse Crossbody!

Breaking everything apart.

TODD: Wow! Tuck almost had it there!

BAMA: Nobody counts almost-victories, Toddy! The match rolls on thanks to Landerson!

All three men remain tangled together.

Nobody moves.

The referee checks all three.

The audience applauds.

Landerson blinks first.

He crawls toward the nearest corner.

Using every rope he can find...

He slowly climbs.

One rung.

Then another.

Then another.

He stands.

High above the ring.

The crowd rises.

TODD: "Landerson going all in!"

BAMA T: "Boy's got courage. I ain't questioning that."

Below...

Solomon slowly rises.

Tuck rises with him.

They trade forearms.

One.

Two.

Three.

Each shot louder than the last.

Neither man gives an inch.

Landerson sees them lined up perfectly.

His eyes shine.

This is it.

LANDERSON FROG SPLASH—

…BUT KLINE CATCHES HIM WITH THE ASHES TO ASHES (Superman Punch!)

Landerson drops flat on his back, looking knocked the fuck out…

Kline drops to a knee, looking to crawl into a cover!

…But Tuck grabs him by the skull!

Then reaches for Solomon's eyes.

Eye rake!

TODD: That’s illegal!

BAMA: Illegal is a strong word. If the ref ain’t DQ you the first time you do it, it’s more frowned upon than anything…

The referee immediately admonishes him.

Tuck throws both hands up innocently.

The official argues.

Tuck nods apologetically, as the official goes to check on Landerson…

Before dragging Solomon's eyes across the top rope the moment the referee looks toward Landerson.

[blue]TODD: "Oh, come on!"

Solomon reels backward.

Blind rage overtakes reason.

He charges purely on instinct.

Tuck catches him.

Southpaw Sucker Slap—

NO!

Solomon instinctively catches the wrist.

For the first time...

Tuck's eyes widen.

A brief flash of surprise.

Solomon answers with a headbutt.

CRACK!

Both men stagger… Solomon staggers back into the ropes… Tuck’s neck hangs over the middle rope!

Landerson sees both giants wobbling.

His heartbeat pounds in his ears.

This is his chance.

He sprints.

Springboard—

Landerson Six-One-Nine!

The double impact snaps Tuck’s head backward!

The arena comes unglued.

Landerson doesn't hesitate.

He scrambles onto Tuck.

Hooks the leg.

ONE!

TWO!

THR—

Kline dives.

His hand hooks Landerson by the ankle...

Dragging him completely off the cover at the last possible heartbeat.

The audience gasps.

TODD: "I thought that was it!"

BAMA: “How the hell is anyone gonna end this one?!?”

Solomon Kline grabs El Landerson, scooping him up into the air for a gorilla press slam! The audience ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ in amazement at the physical feat of strength!

But El Landerson isn’t amazed at all-

In fact, he’s VERY resistant!

So resistant-

That he wiggles free from the press, and drops down just behind Kline!

Kline turns around to grab hold of the bit luchador once more-

But El Landerson has different plans!

TODD: “SUPER KICK! SUPER KICK!”

El Landerson pops off a righteous super kick that connects squarely into Kline’s jaw, forcing the big man to go flying over the ropes and out of the ring!

BAMA: “El Landerson just took Kline’s head off!”

El Landerson watches Kline’s body fly over the top rope, admiring his work. Then, El Landerson turns around to deal with Taggart-

But Taggart’s waiting for him….

WITH A SOUTHPAW SUCKER SLAP!

Reaching down into Hell, Tuck spins like he's throwing a shot put and slaps his opponent across the head hard enough to bust an eardrum or dislocate a jaw!

BAMA: “And now, Tuck just took Landerson’s head off! Talk about karma!”

Taggart drops down, hooking Landerson’s leg for the pin!

1!

2!!

3!!!

Winner - Kentucky “Tuck” Taggart

Taggart rises to his feet, saying some incredibly offensive things about Mexicans as the referee raises his hand in victory. Outside the ring, Solomon Kline stumbles to his feet with a defeated look etched across his face.

TODD: “I can’t believe it! I can’t believe it! Newcomer Kentucky “Tuck” Taggart just beat two of Anarchy’s stalwarts!”

[blue]BAMA: “And by the looks of it, Kline can’t believe it either!”

While Kentucky celebrates inside the ring, Solomon Kline pounds his fists into the barricade outside the ring, clearly pissed off!

TODD: “You win some and you lose some, but I know this match is going to sting for Solomon!”

BAMA: “And that’s exactly the way Tuck wants it, baby!”
[/i][/b]

"Mickey" begins playing, the fans pop to their feet and dance along to the catchy beats.

The cheers grow when she zooms down the aisle doing non-stop backflips all the way to ringside.

Barbie runs around ringside slapping hands and stops beside the commentary table to high-five Todd and Bama before handing her pom-poms to a young girl in the front row.

The girl raises them excitedly as Barbie performs a quick cheer routine just for her.

Barbie then slides into the ring, springs onto her hands, and launches herself through a dazzling series of handsprings before landing in the splits and posing.

TODD: "Brawliepop Barbie is still searching for her first major breakthrough here on Anarchy!"

BAMA T: "She came close last week, baby! She and El Landerson put themselves through the same table and handed Dom Durango the easiest victory of his miserable life!"

TODD: "Tonight, Barbie has the opportunity to prove that result was nothing more than a technicality."

BAMA T: "And she better stay away from the tables this time, baby!"

War drums begin pounding throughout the arena.

Dom emerges from the curtain, dressed in all-black, marching, feet plodding with zero bravado, simply cold, brutal urgency.

He marches toward the ring expressionless.

Barbie continues bouncing in her corner, but her smile slowly fades as Dom approaches.

TODD: "The man approaching the ring bears very little resemblance to the ridiculous television chef who first arrived in the XWF."

BAMA T: "Micheal Graves fed that man some Hell grits and burned every funny bone out of his body!"

TODD: "Dom has become increasingly violent and increasingly disturbing since Leap of Faith."

BAMA T: "And now he’s going to eat Barbie’s dream!"

TODD: "I sincerely hope you mean that metaphorically."

BAMA T: "This is the new Dom Durango we’re talking about, baby. I wouldn’t bet on it!"

Dom stomps up the steel steps.

He stands on the apron and stares directly at Barbie.

Barbie's confidence flatlines at the sight of the behemoth.

Dom steps between the ropes.

No acknowledgment of the crowd. He just waits.

BRAWLIEPOP BARBIE
- vs -
DOM DURANGO

The referee checks both competitors.

Barbie offers Dom a cautious sportsmanlike handshake.

Dom maintains eye contact as he spits on the canvas.

Barbie withdraws her hand and nods.

The bell rings.

[b]DING! DING! DING![/b]

Barbie immediately starts circling.

Dom marches straight toward her.

Barbie changes direction.

She darts forward with a low kick and Dom swings a lariat!

Barbie ducks it and performs a cartwheel behind him.

Dom turns.

FLYING DROPKICK!

Dom stumbles backward but is still standing.

Barbie kips up.

The crowd cheers.

TODD: "Barbie has to use her speed! She cannot allow Dom to trap her!"

BAMA T: "Don’t stand in front of the freight train, baby!"

Barbie runs toward the ropes.

She rebounds.

Another dropkick!

Dom absorbs it and takes a step back.

Barbie rolls through the landing and rises.

A third dropkick—NO!

Dom swats her legs aside!

Barbie crashes stomach first against the canvas.

Dom immediately stomps on the back of her head.

TODD: "One mistake was all it took!"

BAMA T: "Dom just stomped the pep right out of her, baby!

Dom grabs Barbie by the hair and hauls her upright.

Closed-fist punch.

Barbie collapses against the ropes.

Dom grabs her wrist and whips her across the ring. She rebounds and Dom swings another lariat.

Barbie ducks again.

She leaps onto the middle rope—SPRINGBOARD SCISSORS KICK!

The kick catches Dom behind the ear!

Dom drops to one knee.

Barbie hits the ropes.

POM-POM POWER!

The cartwheel flying back elbow connects!

Dom tumbles through the ropes and lands on his feet outside.

The crowd erupts.

Barbie sprints across the ring.

PLANCHA DIVE!

No!

Dom catches her.

Barbie’s eyes widen.

TODD: "Dom caught her!"

BAMA T: "Barbie flew directly into the bear trap, baby!"

Dom drives Barbie spine first into the ring post.

CLANG!

Barbie cries out.

Dom maintains his grip.

He turns and throws her knees first into the steel steps.

CRASH!

Barbie lands hard on the floor.

TODD: "Barbie’s knees struck those steps first!"

BAMA T: "Dom said he was going to snap her knees the wrong way, and he just might've, baby!!

Barbie clutches her knee.

Dom watches her struggling for a moment, then reaches down.

Barbie kicks at him with her good leg.

Dom catches the ankle and pulls her up.

Barbie hops backward on one foot...

ENZUIGIRI!

It catches Dom across the temple!

Dom releases her and staggers against the apron.

Barbie crawls away.

She reaches the barricade and pulls herself up.

The crowd reaches over, encouraging her.

Dom charges, but Barbie drops down and Dom crashes shoulder first into the barricade!

Barbie hops onto the barricade, balancing mostly on one leg.

MOONSAULT!

Both competitors crash to the floor.

TODD: "Incredible athleticism from Brawliepop Barbie!"

BAMA T: "She’s fighting on one good leg and still flying, baby!"

Barbie pushes herself up and limps toward the ring, tolling beneath the bottom rope.

Dom follows.

Barbie waits until his head passes through the ropes.

SLIDING UP-KICK!

Barbie grabs the top rope and swings her legs around his neck.

ROPE-ASSISTED NECKBREAKER!

Barbie hooks the leg!

ONE!

TWO!!

Dom throws her off with ease!

Barbie flies across the ring and rises quickly but her damaged knee buckles.

Dom charges.

Barbie somehow leapfrogs over him, but her knee gives out during the landing.

Dom spins around...

LARIAT TO THE BACK OF THE HEAD!

TODD: "Barbie’s knee betrayed her!"

BAMA T: No, Dom did that! He took the landing gear off the airplane, baby!"

Dom grabs the damaged leg.

Barbie claws at the canvas.

Dom lifts her ankle and slams her knee against the mat.

Barbie screams.

Dom lifts it again, but Barbie desperately turns over and kicks Dom in the face with her free leg.

Dom releases her and Barbie crawls toward the corner.

But Dom follows and grabs her ankle and drags her back to the center.

Barbie kicks herself free, giving her time to get upright.

She strikes him again, but Dom drives his thumb into her eye.

Barbie screams and covers her face.

TODD: "Come on! There was no need for that!"

BAMA T: "Dom doesn’t do anything because he needs to, baby! He does it because he wants to!"

Dom grabs Barbie around the throat with both hands and lifts.

Barbie’s feet kick as the referee orders Dom to release the choke.

Dom ignores him.

The referee begins counting.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

Dom throws Barbie across the ring before the count reaches five.

She crashes against the turnbuckles.

Dom charges her.

CRASH!

Barbie crashes violently to the canvas.

Dom grabs her leg and drags her toward the corner.

He places her ankle across the bottom rope.

The referee warns him.

Dom raises his boot.

STOMP!

She screams.

Dom stomps it again.

STOMP!

The referee physically pulls Dom away.

Dom shoves the referee aside.

TODD: "Dom better watch it if he doesn't want to get DQ'ed!"

BAMA T: "If I were the official, I don't know if I'd chance DQing the Dominator, baby!"

Barbie rolls underneath the bottom rope and drops to the floor.

She tries to stand, but her knee immediately gives out.

Dom steps through the ropes and follows her.

The referee begins counting.

ONE!

TWO!

Barbie crawls toward the ring.

THREE!

FOUR!

She reaches the apron.

FIVE!

Barbie pulls herself up.

SIX!

She rolls inside.

SEVEN!

Dom takes the steps.

EIGHT!

And enters the ring.

Barbie springs forward for the superkick, but her planted knee buckles.

Dom catches her foot.

TODD: "Barbie’s knee couldn’t support the K-I-C-K!"

BAMA T: "She had him lined up, baby! She just couldn’t pull the trigger!"

Dom twists her ankle.

Barbie flips and crashes onto her stomach.

Dom keeps hold of the leg.

He places one boot against the back of her knee.

Then pulls.

Barbie screams as Dom stretches the joint in the wrong direction.

She reaches toward the ropes.

Her fingertips brush the bottom strand.

Dom drags her back toward the center.

The referee asks if Barbie wants to submit.

She shakes her head frantically.

Dom releases the leg.

Barbie curls into a ball.

He bends down and grabs Barbie by the hair.

Barbie throws a punch into his stomach.

Dom pulls her higher.

Another punch.

Dom barely reacts.

Barbie throws a forearm.

Dom’s head turns.

Barbie strikes again.

And again.

Barbie screams and swings one final spinning backfist—

Dom ducks.

Barbie spins completely around.

[b]CLOTHESLINE FROM HELL!

Dom turns Barbie inside out!!!

TODD: "CLOTHESLINE FROM HELL!"

BAMA T: "HE NEARLY KNOCKED THE BODY GLITTER OFF HER, BABY!"

Dom drops to his knees.

He places one hand on Barbie’s chest.

ONE!

TWO!!

THREE!!!
[/b]

[b]DING! DING! DING![/b]

WINNER: DOM DURANGO

The war drums begin again.

Dom remains kneeling beside Barbie.

The referee tries to raise his arm, but Dom pulls away.

TODD: "Brawliepop Barbie showed tremendous heart tonight, but Dom dismantled her."

BAMA T: "Barbie kept finding ways to fly, baby, but every time she landed, Dom took another piece until there wasn't anything left to take!"

TODD: "She came dangerously close to connecting with that surprise K-I-C-K, but the damage had already been done."

BAMA T: "Dom walked into that ring, broke Barbie down, and beat her ass, baby!"

TODD: "Last week, Dom Durango won without having to wrestle. Tonight, he proved he can be even more frightening when he does."

Dom marches back up the ramp without looking behind him.

Inside the ring, Barbie refuses the referee’s help and grabs the ropes, slowly pulling herself upright.

The crowd gives her a standing ovation as she balances uneasily on one leg.

…

The synthesized beat of Shake it Off By Taylor Swift begins to play over the public address system, as the opening lyrics soon begin, as the fans boo and flashes going off, people are waiting for the arrival of the Fitness Queen herself.

[i]I stay out too late
Got nothing in my brain
That's what people say, mm-mm
That's what people say, mm-mm

As a spotlight is on the entrance ramp and the lights dim, first stepping out is none other than the legendary Snarktopus Nessa Wall, who smiles brightly before trash talking the fans as she smiles, before ordering a couple of stage hands to come out they each have a mirror in hand they face the entrance ramp, as soon out from the back steps La Marvillosa herself Marisol Vilaro.

I go on too many dates
But I can't make 'em stay
At least that's what people say, mm-mm
That's what people say, mm-mm

Marisol stops to admire herself in each mirror posing and showing off, what her hard work has given her and mouthing about how she’s the inspiration these out-of-shape people need. After a few moments of posing she brushes right past, giving her manager/mentor a hug before they head off with Nessa leading the way taking the time to give the fans at ringside a hard time for even trying to touch them.

But I keep cruisin'
Can't stop, won't stop movin'
It's like I got this music in my mind
Sayin' it's gonna be alright

TODD: Marisol Vilaro! The Number One Contender to the Revolution champion!

BAMA: Correction, Toddrick! The DE FACTO Revolution champion! She already beat Summer Page once, and she’s gonna do it again at Bad Medicine!

TODD: I must acknowledge, Bama, that Mari *did* beat Summer Page last Anarchy under VERY suspect circumstances! But, that controversial victory did earn her a shot at Bad Medicine for Summer Page’s Revolution Title!

BAMA: A match she’s destined to win! The VilaroMaxx Era will become the VilaroMaxx Revolution!

TODD: She’s got a major test in her long-time rival Summer Page at Bad Medicine! But tonight, she’s got a very different test! An opponent that she’s never defeated before! Mari’s insisted she’s basically an entirely new competitor since VilaroMaxxing… can she prove it tonight?

Marisol herself takes the time to pose some more showing off her muscle, and trying to sell them on the VilaroFit mission, and how they need it to improve themselves, As the devious duo soon make their way toward the ring side area Nessa soon goes up the ring steps and takes the time to bark orders at the referee, showing him exactly how lower the ropes for herself, and her client, after being lectured by the Ambitchous one, the referee complies doing it exactly as Nessa demanded enters the ring and motions for Marisol to go up the steps, as she climbs up the steps she takes each moment to keep shilling her products, which doesn’t endear her to the fans, as she soon enters the ring under the rope and soon she rudely brushes past the referee as Nessa presents her to the booing fans as she raises her arms high in the air soaking in the boos, and catcalls.

'Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play
And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate
Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off (hoo-hoo-hoo)
Heartbreakers gonna break, break, break, break, break
And the fakers gonna fake, fake, fake, fake, fake
Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off (hoo-hoo-hoo)

Marisol then does a series of poses once again before turning around and gracing the other side of the area raising her arms high in the air and then doing a similar series of poses showing off her physique and how in shape she is. While Nessa claps her client before they head into their corner, and Nessa is getting Marisol psyched and going over the game plan…

…

Oswald stands amidst an indie metal band, watching the ring, looking at the band. Soon a choir is heard as the band begins to play his theme song. He walks towards the lead guitarist, clapping him gently on the back so as to not mess up her playing. Oswald, walks down the ramp, the bottom of his white cloak dragging along the ground. Once at the ring, he'd leap onto the apron before launching himself to show how strong and agile he was to lift such mass with such ease right over the top rope and de-cloaked himself, placing it in his corner before stretching out his arms in a lower case t and roaring out to the crowd before going and sitting on top of his cloak, awaiting the bell as he mentally plans out the match, as well as how to try and beat his opponent.

TODD: Here he is, Mister Oz! One of the most dominant competitors in Anarchy history! As established by his two-and-oh record over Marisol Vilaro! Including a victory in his trademark Meathooks of Horror match!

BAMA: That was the old Mari, Todd! That’s comparing an original iPhone to the dang ol’ Eighteen! He beat a caterpillar, he’s fighting a goddamned DRAGONFLY!

TODD: It’s telling that this week in promos, Mari talked about how she’s ready to claim her first victory over Oz! How she wants to prove this new VilaroMaxx Era is for real! And Oz seemed to vaguely remember her name and not bring up their history at all!

BAMA: For Mari, her last meeting with Oz was one of the most brutal matches in her career… For Oz? It was a Thursday. Literally his second of three matches that night! He’s fresh, he’s strong… but can Mister Oz be the first man to beat Mari in her VilaroMaxx Era!

DING DING

MISTER OZ
- vs -
MARISOL VILARÓ

X-TREME RULEZ MATCH!

HIGHLIGHT REEL!

The bell rings.

Marisol doesn't move.

Her lips press into a thin line. Her eyes never leave Oz's. Every muscle in her body remains coiled, refusing to repeat the reckless mistakes that cost her their first two encounters.

Oz disinterestedly stretches his neck..

Not arrogantly.

Patiently.

Like a teacher pleased his student finally remembered the first lesson.

Neither moves.

The crowd grows restless.

TODD: Neither competitor seems willing to make the first move!

BAMA: Mari's finally wrestlin' with her brain instead of her ego! She’s rushed in before and let Oz lure her into getting bearhugged and tossed around like a ragdoll… VilaroMaxx means VilaroMaxx intelligence!

Marisol's eyebrows twitch with annoyance at Oz's smug calm. Refusing to let him dictate the pace, she suddenly darts in—

TODD: Looks like VilaroMaxx is as impatient as old Vilaro!

BAMA: …dammit, Mari…

LOW ENZUIGIRI!

The kick catches Oz across the knee!

Oz buckles.

Marisol immediately spins behind him.

Swinging Neckbreaker!

THUD!

Oz rolls away.

His expression remains...

Disappointingly calm.

Marisol scowls.

That composure infuriates her.
[/i]

TODD: Mari is fighting like she’s desperate to prove something… not just to her opponent at Bad Medicine, but to herself!

BAMA: And Oz looks cool, calm and collected, baby!

Mari circle-steps, trying to outpace Oz… while Oz simply slowly advances… Not circling, his every move designed to close the gap between them…

In a flash, Mari rushes forward.

…But Oz is ready!

BEAR HUG!

He snatches her completely off the ground.

TODD: GOOD LORD!

BAMA: That's why ya don't get greedy!

Marisol's eyes bulge.

Her face reddens.

She can feel her ribs compressing.

Instead of panicking, irritation flashes across her features.

She drives repeated elbows into Oz's temple.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Oz finally loosens his grip.

Marisol slips free.

She tries to take advantage!

She lunges.

DDT!

...

Oz blocks it.

He hoists her upward.

Delayed Vertical Suplex!

One...

Two...

Three...

The crowd counts with him.

Four...

Five...

Then Oz begins doing squats.

Six...

Seven...

Eight...

Marisol kicks wildly.

Finally—

WHAM!

She crashes into the canvas.

Cover.

ONE!

TWO!

Kickout.

TODD: Marisol survives!

BAMA: I don’t care how many miles you run on the treadmill, she ain't gonna survive many more of those!

TODD: Mari’s one of the fittest competitors in the XWF, but Oz chaining those power moves together is sure to sap anyone and fast!

The official blocks Oz from further offense so he can check if Mari can continue…

Which gives Mari a window to roll under the bottom rope…

BAMA: Veteran instinct! Marisol Vilaro, baby!

Rolling outside, Marisol kneels beside the apron.

Her chest rises rapidly.

Her eyes dart beneath the ring.

TODD: Mari looking to take this match to the hardcore district! This match is X-Treme rules after all, folks!

BAMA: Oz did bring up that he’s a two-time X-Treme champ, while Mari’s only held that barbed wire belt once! She might want to prove she can not only beat Oz, she can also get more X-Treme than Oz!

She smiles, reaching under there…

Before retrieving a…

A SOLID GOLD CLUTCH!

TODD: …Is that a clutch?

BAMA: A solid gold clutch! Straight of VilaroFit.com’s shopzone! The perfect accessory for self-defense! Easy to carry, hits like a solid gold brick!

TODD: …Because it is a solid gold brick?

[b][i]WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Oz calmly exits the opposite side.

Watching.

Waiting.

Marisol wraps the chain around her fist.

Her confidence returns.

She storms forward.

CLUTCH STRIKE—

Oz ducks.

His face suddenly hardens.

Not anger.

Disappointment.

Mari spins around…

AS OZ HITS HER WITH A DECAPITATING BIG BOOT!

The clutch flies into the crowd.

TODD: Hope Mari didn’t keep her ID in there…

Marisol spins onto the floor.

TODD: She brought the metal...

BAMA: ...and got introduced to boot leather!

[/i][/b]

Mari crawls to buy herself some recovery time, as reaches beneath the ring.

A meathook!

[b][i]WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Marisol pulls herself up by the ring apron… and sees what Oz is holding. Her olive complexion turns a pale white!

TODD: Oh my God! The Meathook! Oz has literally stabbed Mari with a meathook in their last meeting, which Oz picked the stip to be a Meathooks of Horror match!

BAMA: You don’t gotta remind Mari! I think her gut’s life just flashed before its eyes!

Mari hesitates, her eyes get wide as dinner saucers staring at the meathook in Oz’s hands…

Oz notices.

He points it toward her.

Marisol screams enraged.

She charges.

Running knee—

NO! Oz catches her.

GORILLA PRESS GUTBUSTER TO THE OUTSIDE!

The impact folds her over his knee.

Marisol collapses.

Gasping.
[/i][/b]

Having tossed Mari back inside the ring, Oz calls for the ring crew in the rafters to drop a pulley down….

TODD: Holy shit! Oz is actually gonna set a hanging meathook to impale Mari on AGAIN!

Once more, Marisol crawls under the bottom rope just as the ring crew drops the pulley down…

Oz latches the hook onto it, before turning around… just in time to see Mari crawl under the ring…

TODD: Mari perhaps hiding from Oz!

BAMA: She’s beating a strategic retreat! It’s a rebranding, Toddy baby!

Oz slides under the ropes coolly, dropping down to grasp Mari’s leg!

He YANKS her back from under the ring, she emerges…

…

WITH A FIRE EXTINGUISHER!

SPRAAAAAAAAAAAAY!

White foam explodes into Oz's face.

The crowd erupts.

TODD: Brilliant!

BAMA: That's thinkin' like a CEO!

Oz stumbles blindly.

Marisol grins.

Finally...

Control.

She spins as Oz brushes the foam from his eyes…

CLANG! DISCUS FIRE EXTINGUISHER SHOT!

Oz gets his dome CRANKED! He drops to the outside like a sack of wet meat!

TODD: WOW! What a shot by Marisol Vilaro!

BAMA: Mari just took X-Treme to the VilaroMaxx, baby! What a shot!

The official drops to the outside just as Mari covers Oz’s fallen body!

TODD: This could do it!

ONE!

TWO!

Oz throws her almost three feet in the air to break the cover!

Marisol lands awkwardly.

Pain floods across her face.

Then frustration.

Then rage.

She pounds the padded concrete!.

TODD: Lot of frustration here on Mari’s face!

BAMA: She’s a business GENIUS, Todd! She’s pushing her negative energy OUT and drawing a solution in!

Mari searches under the ring for something… anything to put Oz away… She tosses away a steel chair… a two-by-four…

Meanwhile, behind her… Oz slowly rises.

Still coated in extinguisher powder.

He almost looks...

Ghostly.

The crowd chants.

"OZ!"

"OZ!"

"OZ!"

Mari spins around as the cheers get louder!

TODD: Mari looks like she’s seeing a ghost!

BAMA: I mean Oz IS still covered in that fire extinguisher powder! He looks a little spooky!

Vilaro charges recklessly.

Oz sidesteps.

Marisol crashes shoulder-first into the outside post.

Oz immediately hooks her.

DOUBLE A SPINEBUSTER TO THE OUTSIDE!

The ring shakes.

Oz folds his hands together.

Almost praying.

Then points toward the heavens.

The followers chant louder.

Oz reaches down for Mari, crawling by the ring apron…

But Mari throws a wild desperate kick that catches Oz in the stomach!

TODD: Mari looking less like she’s fighting to win right now and looking more like she’s fighting to survive!

BAMA: The hell do you know, Toddrick! To Mari, to survive MEANS to win! She plays for keeps!

TODD: Right now, she looks like she’s playing to keep living!

Mari scampers, crawling hand over hand…

She reaches desperately, retrieving…

…

A KENDO STICK!

Her lips curl, turning as Oz grunts, rising back to a vertical base…

She swings.

CRACK!

Across Oz's ribs.

Again.

CRACK!

Again.

CRACK!

Oz finally drops to one knee.

Marisol laughs.

The laughter borders on hysterical.

She swings once more—

Oz explodes upward.

PELE KICK!

The kendo stick flies into the front row.

TODD: FROM OUTTA NOWHERE!

BAMA: HOW?!?!

TODD: The workhorse of the XWF pulls out another miracle run!

TODD: Folks, this one has had everything but the kitchen sink and we’ve been all over the outside, but we’ve finally got both competitors back inside the ring..

Both competitors stagger, slowly rising to their feet…

Both exhausted.

Both bleeding.

The table still waits.

Marisol sees it.

Determination replaces anger.

She hooks Oz.

DOUBLE UNDERHOOK SUPLEX!

…

NO! She can't lift him.

TODD: All that time on the bench press and Mari can’t lift Oz!

Oz grunts from under Mari…

And then LIFTS her effortlessly off her feet!

Oz lifts her effortlessly.

He walks her around the ring atop his shoulders!

The crowd rises.

Oz walks to the corner as the crowd screams!

Setting that hanging meathook right in front of him!

TODD: Don't tell me...

BAMA: Lord have mercy… Buckle Bomb into the Meathook?

TODD: Meathook Bomb?!?

…

HE RUNS!

HE GOES TO THROW MARI!

MEATHOOK!

BOOOOOOOOOOOOMB!

…

REVERSED!

Mari tucks her legs!

Hurricanrana!

Oz hurtles forward!

…

CHEST FIRST INTO THE MEATHOOK!

The crowd loses its mind.

[b][i]HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!

Oz grits his teeth, the hanging meathook BURIED in the meat of his shoulder!

His face contorts in pain as he breathes slowly… He shuts his eyes tight… And shoves the meathook out!

TODD: Oz is INSANE! That meathook can do as much damage getting pulled out as it would going in!

BAMA: You think he’s gonna wrestle the rest of the match with a meathook buried in him, Toddy?!?

Blood gushes down Oz’s arm… As it hangs limp at his side…
[/i][/b]

TODD: Oz is trying to continue to fight Mari with one arm!

BAMA: ANd he’s losing blood, Toddrick!

Oz has cornered Mari, his hand wrapped around her throat, throttling her against the corner padding…

When suddenly Mari claws across his face.

EYE RAKE!

The arena erupts in boos.

TODD: NOT AGAIN!

BAMA: THAT'S MY CEO! NO DISQUALIFICATIONS, BABY!

Oz staggers backward.

Marisol immediately dives.

CROSS ARMBREAKER!

She wrenches backward with everything she has.

TODD: Every humiliation. Every defeat. Every ounce of jealousy toward Summer. Every nightmare from the icepick. Marisol Vilaro is pouring everything she has into this submission hold!

Oz clenches, his face turning red, as Mari torques his arm backwards…

…He grits his teeth!

…

HE LIFTS MARI UP OFF THE MAT!

Still trapped on his arm.

TODD: OZ IS A BEAST!

…But then Mari wrenches herself back down to the mat! Oz clenches, smacking his head back against the mat!

BAMA: But even a beast needs blood to function, Toddrick! Oz’s strength is getting sapped by all that red he’s losing!

Oz tries once more…

But MARI TORQUES HARDER!

OZ EXHALES PURE PAIN…

The official asks if Oz can continue!

Oz…

OZ…

…

OZ’S ARM GOES LIMP!

HE PASSES OUT!

DING DING DING!

Winner: Marisol Vilaro!

TODD: Mari did it! Mari overcame Oz! Oz beat her twice before, but their third meeting goes Mari’s way!

BAMA: Like she said, Toddrick! This is basically their first meeting, because this ain’t the Old Vilaro. This is VILAROMAXX! And the max was too much for Oz too handle!

SUMMER PAGE ©
- vs -
JAY FETU

SINGLES MATCH!

The newly crowned Revolution Champion has another challenge this week, except this time she's taking on "MAIN EVENT" Jay Fetu! Non-title!

Once the action kicked off, Summer narrowed her eyes and deliberately circled, refusing to give away the center of the ring.

TODD: Great positional wrestling from the Revolution champion! She’s taking the center which is going to be critical to limit Fetu’s explosive, fast-paced offense!

Jay loudly rolled his eyes, before smiling wide.

BAMA: Daggum! Fetu’s in the ring with the Revolution champ and he ain’t even took off his sunglasses when the bell rung! Is he takin’ this shot with Page seriously?

TODD: Fetu’s bold! I think he sees Page’s seriousness as weakness!

Fetu swaggered forward with his hands lowered, offering his chin, giving Page a shot to take the first swing!

Summer rolled her eyes.

TODD: This is a gutsy gambit by Fetu! Page is, no joke, one of the sharpest strikers on Anarchy!

Annoyed by his arrogance, she stepped in—

SMACK!

A sharp forearm cracked across Jay's jaw.

Jay's head snapped sideways, staggering back into the corner!

BAMA: YEET!

He slowly looked back at her, massaging his chin...

...before laughing. Fetu shook his head and tossed his sunglasses into the crowd!

The arena erupted.

TODD: Fetu got rocked, but he took it on the chin and is still standing!

BAMA: But here comes Summer with a post-knuckle sandwich dessert!

Insulted that her opening shot had been shrugged off, Summer charged the corner, to fire off…

A FOREARM SMASH!

…But this time, Fetu ducks under! The roles reverse with Summer against the corner…

Jay answered with a monstrous…

OPEN-HAND CHOP!

WHAAAAACK!

[b][i]WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Summer stumbled backward clutching her chest.

BAMA: GOOD LORD! He caved her rib cage in!

TODD: That is the strength disadvantage Summer has to solve tonight!

Jay smelled weakness.

His grin became predatory as he burst forward—

RUNNING HIP ATTACK!

NO!

Summer instinctively dropped flat to the canvas.

Jay sailed over her and caught himself on the ropes.

Summer immediately kipped up.

Her face settled into cold calculation

TODD: Page learning quickly she’s gonna have a hard time trading power shots with ‘Main Event’ Jay Fetu! She’s gonna have to move quick and make the shots she gets in count!

She attacked the legs.

Low kick.

Another.

Fetu tries to sidestep back out of her attacking range, but gets clipped on the ankle, slowing him down!

Summer follows it up Basement dropkick to the knee.

Jay buckled.

Summer exploded upward—

Jey raises his guard, anticipating another strike!

But Summer slips behind him!

SNAP GERMAN SUPLEX!

TODD: That move DUMPED Fetu on his head!

Jay rolled through onto one knee almost instantly… He backs into the ropes, chest heaving… before smashing his fist against his skull!

“YEEEEEEEEEET!”

YEEEEEEEEEEET!

TODD: Page looks stunned! Fetu has taken her offense and is begging for me! Does it even hurt?

BAMA: Oh it hurts, Todd! But he’s trying to break her mind! Make her wonder what it’s gonna take to put him down! And that’s when he’ll YEET her into next week! He’s waiting for just the right moment!

Summer blinked in surprise… before charging Fetu again!

Fetu turns into a bladed stance…

And fires off a SUPERKICK!

BAMA: Whoa! Never mind! He’s going for it NOW!

…

NO! Summer barely ducked underneath.

She spun behind him—

SLINGSHOT SUPLEX!

Jay crashed onto his shoulders.

ONE!

T—

Kickout.

Jay shoved her nearly halfway across the ring.

TODD: Summer nearly stole one there!

BAMA: That big ol' Samoan ain't gonna stay down because somebody flipped him over once!

TODD: But Fetu made it clear just how fast he can tear off that superkick… and Summer was ready for it!

BAMA: Summer wasn’t born yesterday! …Although, she’s right, Fetu might have been born three months ago based on his profile!

TODD: Gotta be a recordkeeping error, Bama!

Jay climbed back to his feet rubbing his neck.

His smile disappeared.

TODD: Fetu’s been dumped on his head a few times now, Bama! He was laughing it off before… but he’s looking pissed off now!

BAMA: A man can only get knocked down so many times before the pain starts to beat down the resolve! He knows he can’t beat Summer by getting beaten down! He’s gotta find his window to strike and TAKE IT![/blue

Fetu charged with far more aggression.

Summer saw him coming.

Rather than panic, she calmly sidestepped.

Jay crashed shoulder-first into the turnbuckles.

Summer immediately capitalized.

HIGH KNEE!

Jay staggered backward.

CHICK KICK!

His head snapped sideways.

Summer hit the ropes—

CODE RED!

The crowd exploded as Jay folded in half.

ONE!

TWO—

Jay powered out.

Summer exhaled sharply.

Not angry...

Yet.

Thinking quickly, she immediately grabbed the arm.

TOP ROPE CHINLOCK!

She wrapped herself around Jay's neck while hanging over the ropes, forcing the referee to begin counting.

One...

Two...

Three...

Summer released at four!

[blue]TODD: Summer made it very clear the night she won the Revolution! She will be The BITCH if it means being a champion too!

BAMA: It’s not even really cheating until the referee says ‘four’, Toddrick!

Jay rubbed his throat.

His face flushed with frustration.

He hated being slowed down.

He stormed toward her swinging wildly.

Summer ducked.

Forearm.

Body shot.

Forearm.

Jay swung again.

Duck.

SNAP DDT!

Jay spiked into the canvas.

Summer floated into another cover.

ONE!

TWO!!

NO!

Jay launched her completely off him.

Both competitors scrambled upward.

Summer's expression finally showed concern.

Jay was still coming.

The big Samoan slammed both fists against his chest.

"YEET!"

He exploded across the ring.

FETU SPEAR!

NO!

Summer instinctively threw herself sideways.

Jay flew between the ropes and crashed shoulder-first into the steel post.

The crowd gasped.

TODD: Disaster for Jay Fetu!

BAMA: That's what happens when all your horsepower ain't got no steering wheel!

Summer's eyes lit up.

This was her opening.

Her breathing steadied.

Every ounce of frustration disappeared beneath ruthless focus.

She sprinted forward—

SPOILED ROTTEN!

Backstabber!

Jay bounced upward in agony.

TOTAL KNOCKOUT!

SUPERKICK!

Jay collapsed onto one knee.

Summer hit the ropes.

SWEET & SASSY!

The Frankensteiner sent Jay flipping onto the top of his head.

The crowd erupted.

ONE!

TWO!!

THR—

KICKOUT!

Summer slammed both palms into the mat, the frustration starting to mount!

TODD: Jay Fetu survives!

BAMA: That's that determination! That boy ain't quittin'!

TODD: He’s taking a hell of a beating, Bama!

BAMA: Taken a lickin’ but he keeps on tickin’, Toddy baby! You can see it in Page’s face, she’s no longer thinking WHAT it’ll take to put Fetu down, she’s wondering IF she can put him down for the count at all!

Summer paced furiously.

Her jaw clenched.

Her temper started surfacing.

As Fetu scrambled back upright looking woozy, Summer SHOVED him back into the corner!

She pressed him back against the turnbuckle and began HURLING reckless forearms.

BAMA: Boah, she ain’t aiming those, she’s just firing until Fetu’s hard is an innie!

One.

Two.

Three.

Jay absorbed every one.

Then suddenly...

He grabbed her wrist.

Summer froze.

The crowd buzzed.

Summer tried another forearm.

Blocked.

Another.

Blocked.

Jay yanked her in— over his shoulder! He spins….

SPINNING SAMOAN DROP!

The ring shook.

Summer bounced violently… She refuses to stay down, climbing up to her feet…

But Jay was already moving, sprinting toward the ropes!

He sprinted toward the ropes.

The crowd stood.

Fetu rebounds!

FETU SPEAR!!

…

IT CONNECTS!

[white]YEEEEEEEEEEET!

Summer folded inside out.

TODD: GOOD GOD!!

BAMA: THAT'S THE YEET! THAT'S THE YEET! I don’t know what yeet is, but I’m pretty sure that must have been it!

Jay hooked the leg.

ONE!

TWO!!

THR—

NO! Summer barely threw a shoulder upward!

BAMA: How the HELL did Summer kickout!

TODD: Summer fought for almost two years to win her first piece of XWF championship gold! Say what you will about her, she is RESILIENT!

Jay stared at the referee in disbelief.

He slapped the mat once.

Then nodded, looking around at the crowd!

BAMA: Fetu knows it and he knows this crowd knows it! If one YEET wasn't enough… A second YEET will put down a bull elephant!

He climbed to the top rope.

The crowd rose to its feet.

Summer slowly rolled onto her stomach.

Still dazed.

Still crawling.

Jay balanced himself.

His confidence returned completely.

He launched—

FETU SPLASH!

NO!

Summer rolled clear at the last possible second.

Jay crashed stomach-first into the canvas.

The impact knocked the wind completely out of him.

TODD: Nobody home!

BAMA: Oof! That sorta landing make a grown man question every life decision he's ever made!

Summer coughed while pulling herself upright with the ropes.

She glanced toward Jay…

Jay staggered back to his feet holding his ribs.

Summer sprinted.

HIGH KNEE!

Jay staggered.

GOLDEN RULE!

Reverse Neckbreaker!

Jay bounced backward into the ropes.

Summer immediately trapped both arms.

PURE PERFECTION!

PERFECTPLEX!

ONE!

TWO!!

THREE!!

DING! DING! DING!

Winner: 'Spoiled' Summer Page

Summer remained on her knees for a moment, breathing heavily before accepting her Revolution Championship from the referee.

Jay sat against the bottom turnbuckle, disappointed but still defiant.

He nodded once toward Summer.

Summer answered with only the faintest smirk before raising her championship high above her head.

TODD: The Revolution Champion survives an absolute war just two weeks before Bad Medicine!

BAMA: And Marisol Vilaro better be watchin', Todd! Summer Page just proved she can weather a storm, outthink a powerhouse, and still find a way to win. That championship ain't leavin' her hands easy!

[/i][/b]

When Anarchy comes back from commercial break, Razor Blade and Latoya Hixx are already waiting in the ring. Latoya cracks her knuckles while Razor Blade runs the ropes. The team of The American Storm appear ready for tonight’s bout!

Todd: Look at how prepared and professional The American Storm are! They came out to the ring early for tonight’s co-main event. They’re looking to turn the ship around and score a big win tonight in the Anarchy tag division!

Bama: What was that, Todd? Sorry, I just got back from taking a massive dump during all those DraftKings commercials.

The Imposts, Michael Graves and Lionel Pennyfarthing, appear on stage with much theatrics- and probably more pyro than they deserve! They make their way down the ramp, each pretending to be their proper character as they slide into the ring.

Bama: There’s more Micheal Graves than there are John Smith’s, I swear!

Todd: Well technically Bama, this one is MichAel Graves!

Bama: And what’s Vinnie Lane doing out there? I thought he was still on medical leave for that optional circumcision his ol’ lady made him get!

Todd: That’s Lionel Pennyfarthing, Bama! We’ve been over this a million times!

Bama: And I still don’t get it! All I know, is that I’m about to watch our Anarchy tag-team champion cheat on his partner with a hot blonde!

Todd: …that’s, that’s not at all what’s happening, Bama!

The Woke Mind Virus hits the stage next! Centurion and Oleandyr Reitan make their way down to the ring, managed by Nellie Cortinovis. They receive a huge pop as all the gays and the girlies scream like they just saw Taylor Swift! Centurion and Oleandyr eventually make their way into the ring whilst Nellie remains at ringside, keeping an eye on The Imposts like a hawk.

Bama: And here comes Centurion and his new bang piece! I wonder if Ruby’s going to be jealous that he’s tag-teaming another chick now!

Todd: That’s his DAUGHTER’S partner, Bama! Have some class!

Bama: Banging your daughter’s partner makes it even worse, Todd!

Todd: The Woke Mind Virus is NOT engaging in intercourse with each other, Bama! The only ones they’re trying to ‘fuck’ are The Trillionaires!

Bama: Well, then they’re in luck! Their opponent tonight, Vinnie Lane, is actually the one who sold this company to The Trillionaires!

Todd: That’s not…you know, whatever! Let’s just get on with this high-stakes tag match!

THE IMPOSTERS
- vs -
THE WOKE MIND VIRUS
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX & RAZOR BLADE

TRIPLE TEAM TAG MATCH!

HIGHLIGHT REEL!

The bell rings and chaos erupts immediately. All six competitors collide in the center of the ring before spilling out in three different directions.

Todd: And we are underway in this Triple Team Tag Match, folks, and immediately it's bedlam!

Bama: I love it when they just throw the whole rulebook in the trash right out of the gate!

Todd: Centurion just launched himself over the top rope onto Razor Blade! Graves and Latoya Hixx are trading forearms by the timekeeper's table!

Bama: And Pennyfarthing just hit Oleandyr with a chair that I'm PRETTY sure isn't legal in a normal tag match, but hey, this ain't normal! This is a TRIPLE TEAM TAG MATCH…which I guess means anything goes!

Todd: Actually Bama that was a prop chair! So it’s technically not a weapon!

The referee tries to regain order as Latoya Hixx fights back toward the ring, but Graves catches her with a boot to the midsection. Razor Blade charges to make the save and eats a superkick from Oleandyr for his trouble. Bodies scatter everywhere as the referee tries in vain to force a sense of decorum upon the match.

Bama: The referee looks like a substitute teacher who just walked into a food fight.

Todd: He has NO control of this match whatsoever!

Bama: Neither do I, but I'm having a blast!

The tide turns quickly violent against The American Storm. Graves and Centurion, briefly and almost accidentally on the same page, whip Razor Blade into the barricade with a double clothesline that folds him in half. Latoya Hixx springs off the apron to help, but Oleandyr catches her mid-air and drives her through the timekeeper's table with a spinning powerslam!

Todd: MY GOD! Latoya Hixx has been driven through the table!

Bama: That's gonna leave a mark. And by "mark" I mean several vertebrae!

Todd: Razor Blade is down at ringside, Latoya Hixx is buried in kindling. I don't think either member of American Storm is getting back into this one!

Bama: Guess the Storm just made landfall, Todd, and it wasn't pretty!

Referees and medical staff rush to check on both members of The American Storm, clearly already finished for the night.

Back in the ring Graves seizes control, cutting off Oleandyr with stiff European uppercuts before dropping them with a snap suplex. He plants a boot on Oleandyr's chest and plays to the crowd, soaking in the heat.

Bama: Graves is just a natural leading man out here, Todd. Charisma for days.

Todd: He's also just choked Oleandyr against the middle rope for five full seconds without the referee saying a word!

Bama: Charisma AND diplomatic immunity! Incredible package.

Oleandyr fights up and lunges for a desperation tag to Centurion, who comes in like a house of fire. He fires off clotheslines, a flying forearm, and a picture-perfect dropkick that sends Graves reeling into the corner. The crowd, packed with fans of every stripe, comes unglued.

Todd: Hot tag Centurion! And the crowd is ELECTRIC!

Centurion follows with a springboard clothesline that flips Graves inside out, baseball slides him to the floor, then wipes him out with a somersault plancha. Nellie Cortinovis claps approvingly at ringside, keeping one eye locked on the action.

Bama: The Virus is rolling now. I don't think The Imposts have an answer for this.

Todd: It's looking like a big night for Centurion and Oleandyr, Bama!

The momentum swings again when the fight spills out near the barricade. Centurion whips Pennyfarthing toward the steel steps, but Pennyfarthing ducks at the last second. A stray body block from the recovering Graves sends Lionel tumbling awkwardly beneath the ring apron, and he disappears from view entirely.

Todd: Whoa! Pennyfarthing just vanished under the ring!

Bama: Guess he really is British. Man just Irish goodbyed right out of his own tag match!

Todd: The referee doesn't even seem to notice he's gone!

With Pennyfarthing nowhere to be found, Graves is forced to fend off Centurion and Oleandyr alone, and the numbers catch up to him fast. Back in the ring he eats a beating in the corner, chopped raw by Oleandyr as the crowd counts along.

Bama: Where in the world did Lane-'l Pennyfarthing go?

Todd: I genuinely don't know, Bama, but Graves is all alone out here and it's not going well for him!

Somehow, someway, Graves fights back to his feet and starts throwing haymakers! He ends up catching Oleandyr with a big right hand that turns the tide. He whips Centurion into the ropes and drops him with a vicious clothesline that sends him tumbling over the top and down to the floor. Centurion crashes hard on the outside!

Todd: Centurion is down on the floor! He is NOT moving!

Bama: That clothesline nearly took his head clean off!

Todd: Graves has all the momentum now, and Oleandyr is all alone in there!

With Centurion out cold at ringside, Graves turns his attention to Oleandyr and unloads. Knees to the ribs, forearms to the back of the neck, a snap suplex that plants them flat. The crowd tries to rally behind Oleandyr, but they can't find any room to breathe.

Bama: Oleandyr's got nobody to tag! Their partner is face down on the floor!

Todd: Graves is just picking them apart piece by piece![/i][/b]

Oleandyr claws their way toward the corner, desperate for any kind of relief, and finally slaps a hand across the top rope……

IT’S CENTURION!

Todd: Centurion is back! He's back in this thing!

Bama: How did he get up there so fast? He was dead weight on that floor thirty seconds ago!

Todd: I don't know, but he's fired up now!

Centurion hops into the ring and cocks back a massive fist-

BEFORE UNLOADING IT STRAIGHT INTO OLEANDYR’S FACE!!!!

Todd: Wait, what the hell?! Centurion just struck his own partner!

Graves and the Centurion work together to whip Oleandyr corner to corner, hit a double back elbow, and drop them with a combination suplex that draws gasps from the crowd. Nellie is up on the ring apron screaming, pointing at ‘Centurion’, but the noise of the crowd drowns her out completely and nobody pays her any mind.

Todd: Nellie is losing her mind at ringside! And frankly, so am I! What the hell has gotten into Centurion tonight?!

Bama: I guess Centurion isn’t as liberal as he pretends to be!

Just then, the real Centurion stirs on the floor, shakes off the cobwebs, and slides back into the ring! He grabs the other Centurion by the shoulder to spin him around, and for a split second the two stare each other down before the crowd realizes what's happening.

Todd: Wait a minute! Centurion is already IN the ring! Who is that out there?!

Bama: There's two of them, Todd! There's TWO Centurions!

Todd: Then that means….one of those Centurions must be Pennyfarthing!

All four explode into a brawl. Graves and Oleandyr crash through the ropes and spill out to the floor, trading shots all the way up the ramp, leaving the ring to the two Centurions. They trade strikes in the center of the ring, forearm for forearm, until one plants his feet and scoops the other up onto his shoulders.

Todd: He's got him up! He's got him up for the 1000 Mile Slam!

Bama: Centurion is about to hit Centurion with his own finisher, this is INSANE!
The slam connects with a sickening thud, and Centurion rolls straight into the cover on Centurion. The referee drops down and counts!

1!

2!!

3!!!

Todd: He's got him! It's over!

Bama: Ring the bell already! Centurion just won this thing!

Todd: But which one, Bama? WHICH ONE?!

The bell rings, but confusion sets in almost instantly. Referees and agents surround the ring, staring back and forth between the man being counted out and the man standing tall, unable to tell which Centurion is which. Nellie storms in screaming, but even she hesitates for a moment before pointing out the ‘real’ Centurion.

Todd: Nobody can tell them apart! They’re identical!

Bama: This is like a magic trick gone wrong, Todd, and the magician forgot how his own trick works!

Todd: They're pulling the referee aside now, this is a mess!

After several minutes of arguing at ringside, with Nellie, agents, and officials all talking over each other, the decision finally comes down.

Todd: Here's the ruling, Bama. Due to the inability to confirm which competitor delivered and which competitor took that 1000 Mile Slam, this match is being ruled a total NO CONTEST, a DRAW!

Bama: You've got to be kidding me!

Todd: Nobody in this building can say for certain who just won that match! Was it Centurion, or was it Pennyfarthing AS Centurion?!

Both Centurions stand across the ring from one another, chests heaving, as the crowd buzzes with confusion!

DRAW!

“The motherfuckin' saga just begun....”

A flash of pyrotechnics go off across the stage, lighting up the arena in green and red. Then, the two 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?

Jordan Penn is carrying Sebastian's old Universal Championship over his shoulder and both XWF Tag Team Championship belts around his waist.

“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.

“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 surveys the crowd.

“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!”

Todd: Those damn bastards aren’t the tag team champions! They lost at leap of faith and those degenerates stole the belts earlier this week on Warfare.

Bama: Is that what happened? I don’t know. I only watch the A show!

Jordan Penn brings a microphone up to his lips as the spotlight reflects off all his ill-earned gold.

Jordan Penn: Bitches and gentlefucks. I always wanted to say that and now that Kieran is retired and Lee Stone might as well be dead, I’m taking it.

The crowd boos loudly.

Penn: You’re probably wondering why we’re here, taking up air time on the B show. Well, believe it or not, we’re here to talk about the Brotherhood and the State of the XWF as a whole. First, I can’t entirely give him credit, but I will say that Big Dick Lichter had the balls to do what neither the Trillionaires nor Peter Principle would and give us our rematch for these XWF Tag Team Championships. Stolen from us first, by the way. For all the grief management gave us about applying the free bird rule to the XWF X-Treme title, which you are welcome for, by the way, Dyson. We let you have your little run. We felt bad. But I do have to correct something Dick said. He took credit for saving the tag team division, something I am single-handedly responsible for doing. First, I liberated the Anarchy tag titles from Them No Good Bastards. The pretenders. Thunder Knuckles hasn’t been seen since. Then, I beat my brother and wrenched these titles away from the Exiles’ death grip. So if anyone saved the division, it’s yours truly.

Jordan Penn revels in the crowd’s rigorous booing.

Penn: Come Bad Medicine, we are going to right management’s wrongs from Leap of Faith! Doctor and Patient Clown won the number one contendership match. We prepared for them. Then last minute, Astronaut and Houston clown were allowed to sub in? Frankly, it’s fucked. Korvayne and Remi Storm don’t even like each other. No matter. We will become two time champions at Bad Medicine. As for our group, we find ourselves without any titles after Leap of Faith. So it’s time to do some maintenance once again, trim the fat. Effective immediately, Mr. Oz and Asher Hayes are no longer part of the Brotherhood and Jenny Myst? She’s on her final warning. It’s time we show the world what we have always been capable of.

Todd: WOAH, WOAH, WOAH- did Jordan Penn just FIRE Oz and Asher from BOB?!?!

Bama: He’s taking control, Todd: it’s a hostile takeover of BOB! And Charlie’s just standing there, letting him do it!

Todd: I wonder what Charlie has to say about all this?!

Charlie Nickles lifts a microphone up to his cracked lips. He wets them with his tongue as a sly grin overtakes his face.

The Nickleman: THANK YOU FOR YOUR ATTENTION TO THIS MATTER!

Jordan Penn and Charlie drop their microphones simultaneously, a loud ‘BOOM!’ echoing through the PA! Jordan and Charlie share a hearty guffaw as they exit the ring, with Jordan Penn still holding a ridiculously absurd amount of gold on his body.

Bama: Well you heard it here first, folks: Mr. Oz and Asher Hayes are NO LONGER members of The Brotherhood!

Todd: You never know what’s going to happen on Anarchy! I know this is the official ‘go-home’ show before Bad Medicine, but I never expected Jordan Penn to tell Asher and Oz to go home!

BAMA: Hooooo mama, this ones for all the marbles!

TODD: You said it, Bama. This may be one of the biggest main events Anarchy has ever seen. Not only is the Xtreme Championship on the line, but if Samael Dyson wins again here tonight, he’s awarded a 24/7 briefcase!

BAMA: But Samael’s got a hell of a challenge to overcome in former Universal Champion Dickie Watson! And with it being an Xtreme Ladder match, there’s no tellin’ what kind of carnage will ensue!

The lights die without warning. Not a fade, but a full blackout that sucks the air out of the arena 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.

The distorted bass of “DEATHLIST” by Code: Pandorum and GHØSTKID blares across the arena’s speaker system 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.

[i]"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."[/i]

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 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.

TODD: A big crowd reaction for Dickie Watson here tonight.

BAMA: These people know whats at stake. They know this man is what stands between the wrestling antichrist and a 24/7 briefcase.

TODD: “Wrestling antichrist”?

BAMA: Well what else would you call him? Dyson’s a bad hombre and most certainly bad for the XWF if his last promo is anything to go by!

The arena descends into a kaleidoscope of strobe lights of various colors, inducing feelings of disorientation and illness in everyone present as the unsettling beat of “SICKO” by Health and Godflesh starts to play. The main screens come alive with a montage of eerie imagery of death, graphic pornography, blood, surgical scenes, and occult imagery (see the video for SICKO for an idea of what you’re seeing), interspersed with the words “DO AS THOU WILT”, “SODOMIZE THE INNOCENT”, “DO CRIMES” and “BE EVIL” throughout the imagery almost like subliminal messaging.

Samael Dyson hits the stage, flanked by an army! The Rollerwhores, the Ubermensch, and Tommy Gunn (looking like a secret service agent) all stand with Dyson.. He's wearing a wrestling singlet with images of various sex acts airbrushed onto it. Sam wastes no time getting to the ring, rolling under the bottom rope as his entourage assembles at ringside. The Ubermensch in particular seems to be staring Dickie down. Sam kneels in the middle of the ring, looking up at the championship suspended above the ring and muttering a dark prayer to himself.

TODD: If you guys missed the last episode of Anarchy, you may be wondering why Tommy Gunn is accompanying Samael to the ring. Well, it’s because Elon Musk himself granted Samael the use of Tommy and his entire security force for this match.

BAMA: That’s right. In fact, I’ve got word that Tommy has his boys strategically placed throughout the arena, on the lookout for Kristoffer Arroyo and Lux, both of whom have a serious axe to grind with Samael.

The shot quickly cuts to various spots in the arena, highlighting Tommy Gunn’s men in place throughout. They too are all dressed like secret service agents, and frequently speak into their high tech wrist mounted radios to check in with Tommy at ringside.

Meanwhile, back in the ring, Samael and Dickie are brought to the center of the ring to square up by the official. But the official looks troubled by something. He looks at The Ubermensch and the Rollerwhores and back at Samael. Samael smirks and waggles his fingers at the ref. The ref scowls and he steps to the edge of the ring where he points to The Ubermensch and the Rollerwhores, rolls his arm dramatically, points towards the back and yells, “YOU’RE OUT!”

Samael’s jaw drops! Dickie starts to laugh!

BAMA: The official just sent Samael’s goons packin’!!!

Samael immediately gets in the ref’s face, demanding he reconsider but the ref holds his ground and retorts that Samael will be disqualified if they don’t leave!

TODD: Sam doesn’t want a disqualification here! He needs this match to win that briefcase!

Samael shrieks out an obscenity and reluctantly orders his goons to the back! The Ubermensch looks stunned! The Rollerwhores look…well, we can’t tell through the masks but they’re probably not happy either. Forlornly, the entire group starts making their way to the backstage area as the fans pop and jeer at them as they go.

TODD: Well that’s one way to even the odds! Things are looking much brighter for Dickie Watson now!

With that settled, the ref orders for the bell and the match is on!

DICKIE WATSON
- vs -
SAMAEL DYSON ©

X-TREME RULEZ LADDER MATCH!

Dyson's final defense! If Samael Dyson wins, he is awarded a 24/7 briefcase!

Samael immediately darts towards the ring ropes, looking to head outside and grab a ladder. But Dickie is too fast, grabbing Samael about the waist and dumping him over with a release German suplex! Samael rolls and scrambles to his feet, clutching his head, but Dickie is on him again, opening up with a series of chops that drive Samael into the corner.

Samael responds by grabbing Dickie’s hair and pulling him into a headbutt that stuns both men, but Samael recovers a little quicker and chops Dickie’s knee out from under him, grounding the superstar. Samael then proceeds to viciously stomp on Dickie before again going for the ladder.

BAMA: Sam looks like he’s in a hurry to get this over with.

TODD: Can you blame him? Dickie Watson just gets more lethal as the match goes on.

Sam goes to the outside and grabs the ladder stacked there, but he takes his eye off Dickie and Dickie surprises him with a running basement dropkick that sends the ladder right back into Sam’s face! Sam goes down and Dickie heads to the outside, where he picks up the ladder and dumps it right back down on Sam. He then picks the ladder up himself and slides it under the bottom rope.

Sam recovers and grabs Dickie’s foot as he goes to slide back in the ring, pulling him back out and onto the floor viciously! Sam then goes and snatches a beer from a fan at ringside, bringing the cup back and splashing the contents in Dickie’s eyes! Sam then punts Dickie in the gut and DDT’s him into the floor!

With that, Sam rolls into the ring and starts setting up the ladder as the fans cheer on Dickie to recover! Finally, Dickie rouses to his feet just as Sam starts to climb. Dickie explodes into the ring and jumps to his feet, latching onto Sam and dragging him off the ladder into another suplex! Dickie then takes hold of the ladder and smashes it into Sam, driving him into the corner again! Then, he rears back with the ladder and drives the top of it into Sam’s guts! The wind rushes out of Sam and he sinks to his knees!

TODD: Dickie showing he’s very adept with that ladder!

Dickie then sets the ladder up in the center of the ring and starts to climb, almost making it to the top before Sam intervenes, knocking Dickie’s feet out from under him. Dickie deftly lands on his feet, but Sam meets him with a closed fist, followed by another. He then grabs Dickie by the hair and rebounds his skull off the ladder!

Now Sam starts to climb, getting closer and closer to the championship….but Dickie stops him again, this time by upending the whole ladder and sending Sam crashing over the top rope and to the outside!

BAMA: Ohhhh, a bad fall for the champion!

But instead of mounting the ladder, Dickie launches into a cartwheel parlayed into an over the top rope suicide plancha that drills the champion! Both men collapse into a heap as the fans pop for Dickies daredevil display!

Both men are slow to rise but Dickie is up first. He surprises Sam with a standing moonsault before Sam can get up. He then goes to grab the ring steps, dragging them over to Sam and planting them next to him. Dickie then grapples Sam up into a brainbuster position, intent on driving the champ into the steel!

But Sam wriggles out just in time, dropping behind Dickie and pulling him down into a reverse facebuster onto the metal steps! Dickie’s back arches in pain! Samael then picks Dickie up and scoop slams him into the steps for good measure! Dickie calls out in pain! Sam then goes under the ring and pulls out….another ladder!

BAMA: What’s his twisted brain thinking?!

Sam pulls Dickie off the ring steps, stomps him a few times for good measure, and then starts to climb the ladder on the outside! Sam gets all the way to the top and takes flight, looking to splash Dickie from on high!

But Dickie rolls out of the way and Sam splashes nothing but the floor!

TODD: Damn! A big “gambled and lost” for the champ!

Sam cusses and spits as he clutches at his stomach. Dickie picks him up and tiger suplexes Sam right onto the metal steps! The fans pop huge for the punishment Dickie is doling out. Dickie then rolls into the ring and repositions the ladder under the title. He starts to climb!

The fans are cheering as Dickie gets a quarter of the way up….

…..halfway up…..

…..three quarters of the way up…..

…..but NO! Sam dives into the ring and drags Dickie off the ladder! Sam punches Dickie and then parlays that into a sloppy beal toss across the ring. Sam follows that up by dropkicking Dickie as he tries to get up. Sam then grabs the ladder and drops it down to the canvas. He pulls Dickie in between the two pieces of the ladder and proceeds to open and shut it on Dickie repeatedly and viciously, followed up by double 9stomping down on the top of the ladder, forcing a rung into Dickie’s face!

TODD: Dyson now dishing out some serious punishment!

BAMA: He’s got Dickie wrapped up in that ladder like the meat in a pain sandwich!

Sam then heads back outside the ring to grab the other ladder, while back in the ring Dickie slowly pulls himself free. But Sam is relentless and he clobbers Dickie in the head with the second ladder before setting it up to grab the title. Sam starts to climb!

A quarter….

Halfway…..

Three quarters up the ladder….

But Dickie is there to stop him! In fact, he weathers the pain and shoots up the other side of the ladder! He grapples Sam and proceeds to superplex him off the top! The fans pop HUGE!

TODD: Dickie with another explosive move! He told Sam he was coming for a wrestling match and he wasn’t kidding!

Both competitors lie on the mat looking exhausted as the crowd goes wild!

TODD: This defense feels like it’s for all the marbles!

BAMA: It is, Toddrick! Samael’s promising to tank the XWF into an age that would make the Potato Era look like an episode of Miss Rachel!

Samael tries with every fiber of his bod to rise up first, but his knees buckle with every move to try and force himself up right… Dickie stirs first, reaching and picking up the downed ladder. He sets it up at the center of the ring… but in desperation, Samael surges forward, biting Dickie on the face!

TODD: Oh my GOD! The brutality of Samael Dyson!

BAMA: Dickie might need to get tested for rabies after that bite… actually, get the whole panel of tests knowing Dyson’s tastes…

Dyson claws and bites like a feral animal, but Dickie manages to clinch onto his head and deliver a jawbreaker that drives Dyson back into the ropes and he flops down onto the mat!

Dickie resets the ladder under the belt and once more starts climbing…

A quarter….

Halfway…..

Three quarters up the ladder….

Dickie’s reaching up, starting to unlatch the belt…

TODD: Watson’s gonna do it! We’re gonna have a new X-Treme champ!

The official gets in position to call the end of the match… When Dyson stands up and KICKS the official in the chest! Bumping him into the ladder! The ladder topples over, the belt slipping out of Dickie’s hands as Dickie goes over and lands with a sickening thud outside the ring!

TODD: Oh my God!

BAMA: That fall was U-G-L-Y OOGLIE, Toddrick!

Samael’s chest heaves exhausted as he stares at the downed Watson outside the ring. He laughs hideously before mentally deciding to save his boasting and bragging for after when he has the briefcase in hand… Instead, he pulls the ladder from the ropes and sets it up under the belt!

TODD: Watson’s body might be broken after that fall! Does this mean…

BAMA: Samael Dyson’s gonna get the briefcase!

Samael starts scampering up the ladder…

He sets his first step on the ladder… The second st-

FWOOSH! A hand reaches up through the mat!

TODD: HOLY SHIT!

Samael looks down in horror!

As ‘Vamp’ Kristoffer Arroyo emerges through the mat!

TODD: It’s Arroyo! Kristofer Arroyo! Samael’s former herald!

BAMA: Tommy was supposed to stop this!

Gunn is barking orders to his security team who all start rushing toward the ring! But Arroyo’s already yanking Dyson down to the mat! Guillotine position…

ROMEO’S LAMENT! Dyson’s skull gets CRUNCHED against the mat!

TODD: BY GOD! Er… Satan? Wherever Arroyo’s vampiric powers came from, they just cost Dyson his 24/7 briefcase and his dreams of destroying the XWF!

Arroyo isn’t done! He grabs Dyson’s limp body by the skull and tries to pull him up for…

A SECOND ROMEO’S LAMENT!

…But No! Tommy Gunny dives through the ropes and tackles Arroyo to the mat! Well, tries to, Arroyo stays mostly upright, until another pair of security guys manage to support Gunn, dragging Arroyo down to the mat… It takes six or seven security guys all working in tandem but they and Gunn manage to force Arroyo to the padded concrete and chase him back up the ramp!

TODD: Gunn neutralized Vamp from further interference… but has the damage already been done?!?

After almost a full minute of eerie silence where Dyson lies unconscious in the center of the ring, Watson lies unconscious outside, and the official lies broken in the corner…

Watson finds the wherewithal to slowly start rising off the padded concrete… Watson manages to slide back under the bottom rope, grabbing the ladder… At the same time, another official starts running down the ramp!

TODD: Dickie’s back in the ring! And a new official is here! AND Samael Dyson is still down!

BAMA: Watson’s one short climb away from stopping Dyson’s reign of terror from becoming reality!

The official slides under the bottom rope just as Dickie starts climbing…

A quarter….

Halfway…..

Three quarters up the ladder….

The official sets a hand on the ladder just as Dickie’s reaching up, starting to unlatch the belt…

TODD: Is the official… holding the ladder? That’s improper for an official, isn’t it?

Watson starts to pull the belt loose… When all at once the official puts both hands on the ladder and SHOVES IT OVER!

It goes against the ropes and AGAIN Dickie falls in a disgusting bellyflop to outside the ring!

TODD: Ohhhhhhh, that fall looked even worse!

Dickie’s outside the ring in a crumpled heap… The official reaches for their face…

AND RIPS IT OFF!

…

IT’S KORVAYNE!

TODD: Korvayne?!? What the hell is she doing here?!?

Korvayne tosses her realistic face mask away before mounting Dyson, smacking him in the face to try and wake him up. After a few smacks, in a sudden burst of consciousness, Dyson’s eyes shoot open! Korvayne wastes no time dragging him upright and is practically shoving him from behind up the rungs of the ladder!

Dickie slowly stirs outside the ring!

TODD: How the hell is Watson even living after that last fall?!? Let alone moving!

BAMA: That’s how bad Watson wants the win, Toddrick! He’ll die tomorrow, he’s winning tonight!

Korvayne’s eyes widen as she sees Dickie stirring, reaching the apron… She shoves Dyson even harder…

Dyson’s jelly legs manage halfway up the ladder…

Dickie grabs the side of the ring, pulling himself under the bottom rope…

When the Ubermensch hops the barricade and pulls him back out!

TODD: NO! Not even more interference!

Watson and Ubermensch grapple for control as Korvayne continues to shove and prod Dyson up the ladder… He’s three-quarters of the way up!

Ubermensch goes for a lariat! Dickie ducks, wrapping Ubermensch up for a Dickie’s Revenge! But his knees buckle when he goes to lift, Ubermensch shoves him back against the turnbuckle pole outside the ring! And then hits him with a big boot, hammering his skull with a loud clang!

Inside the ring, Korvayne’s got Dyson’s up to the top… His shaking hands wrap around the belt…

TODD: NO! NO! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

…

…….

IT’S UNLATCHED! DYSON WINS! KORVAYNE CALLS FOR THE BELL!

WINNER AND STILL X-TREME CHAMPION: SAMAEL DYSON

NEW 24/7 BRIEFCASE HOLDER: SAMAEL DYSON

BAMA: He did it! That crazy sunovabitch actually did it! We have a second briefcase holder running around!

TODD: The man who swore he’d personally drag the XWF into an age of darkness now has a briefcase that lets him challenge for any belt he wants at any time! And we all know what belt he’s got in mind… At this moment I say, as calmly as I can muster, WE’RE DOOMED! WE’RE ALL DOOMED!

THANK YOU TO ALL OUR WONDERFUL MATCH WRITERS

PETER PRINCIPLE
SAMAEL DYSON
LATINA SUBMISSION MACHINA
MICHEAL GRAVES

& TO OUR AMAZING SEGMENT WRITER

JORDAN PENN

& EVERYONE WHO ROLEPLAYED!

]]>

XWF Anarchy
[Image: vuE1ZV0.png]

07 - 02 - 2026

LIVE FROM JOHN PAUL JONES ARENA!

CHARLOTTESVILLE, VIRGINIA

BRAWLIEPOP BARBIE
- vs -
GCC'S DOM DURANGO

GRUDGE MATCH!

Barbie and Durango have unfinished business from last Anarchy! Let's see who comes out on top when the kitchen starts heating up for real.

MARISOL VILARO
- vs -
MR. OZ

X-TREME RULEZ MATCH!

Anything goes as these two Anarchy stalwarts lay it all on the line!

SUMMER PAGE ©
- vs -
JAY FETU

SINGLES MATCH!

The newly crowned Revolution Champion has another challenge this week, except this time she's taking on "MAIN EVENT" Jay Fetu! Non-title!

DICKIE WATSON
- vs -
SAMAEL DYSON ©

X-TREME RULEZ LADDER MATCH!

Dyson's final defense! If Samael Dyson wins, he is awarded a 24/7 briefcase!

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.

TODD: There he is! Solomon Kline! The man who once called himself Psycho! Multiple time X-Treme champion!

BAMA: He’s taken his fair share of lumps recently, Toddrick! But there ain’t no denying, when Kline’s in top form, he’s a danger to anyone he’s in the ring with!

TODD: Absolutely, Kline had a yearlong Rookie of the Year campaign and in that time, he racked up accomplishments like clockwork! His Sophomore year has been a little more start-and-stop, but it’s important to remember just how close he came to clearing the previously-thought unbeatable, Kieran King! Can he get back on track with a huge victory tonight?

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.

…

Winner - Kentucky “Tuck” Taggart

BRAWLIEPOP BARBIE
- vs -
DOM DURANGO

The referee checks both competitors.

Barbie offers Dom a cautious sportsmanlike handshake.

Dom maintains eye contact as he spits on the canvas.

Barbie withdraws her hand and nods.

The bell rings.

[b]DING! DING! DING![/b]

CLANG!

Barbie cries out.

Dom maintains his grip.

He turns and throws her knees first into the steel steps.

CRASH!

Barbie crashes violently to the canvas.

Dom grabs her leg and drags her toward the corner.

He places her ankle across the bottom rope.

The referee warns him.

Dom raises his boot.

STOMP!

She screams.

Dom stomps it again.

STOMP!

[b]DING! DING! DING![/b]

WINNER: DOM DURANGO

MISTER OZ
- vs -
MARISOL VILARÓ

X-TREME RULEZ MATCH!

HIGHLIGHT REEL!

Winner: Marisol Vilaro!

SUMMER PAGE ©
- vs -
JAY FETU

SINGLES MATCH!

The newly crowned Revolution Champion has another challenge this week, except this time she's taking on "MAIN EVENT" Jay Fetu! Non-title!

Winner: 'Spoiled' Summer Page

THE IMPOSTERS
- vs -
THE WOKE MIND VIRUS
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX & RAZOR BLADE

TRIPLE TEAM TAG MATCH!

HIGHLIGHT REEL!

DRAW!

[i]"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."[/i]

DICKIE WATSON
- vs -
SAMAEL DYSON ©

X-TREME RULEZ LADDER MATCH!

Dyson's final defense! If Samael Dyson wins, he is awarded a 24/7 briefcase!

WINNER AND STILL X-TREME CHAMPION: SAMAEL DYSON

NEW 24/7 BRIEFCASE HOLDER: SAMAEL DYSON

THANK YOU TO ALL OUR WONDERFUL MATCH WRITERS

PETER PRINCIPLE
SAMAEL DYSON
LATINA SUBMISSION MACHINA
MICHEAL GRAVES

& TO OUR AMAZING SEGMENT WRITER

JORDAN PENN

& EVERYONE WHO ROLEPLAYED!

]]> <![CDATA[ANARCHY - 06/18/2026]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=50212 Fri, 19 Jun 2026 19:07:04 -0700 'Big' Dick Lichter]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=50212

XWF Anarchy
[Image: vuE1ZV0.png]

06 - 18 - 2026

LIVE FROM LITTLE CAESARS ARENA!

DETROIT, MICHIGAN

MR. OZ
- vs -
JAY FETU

X-TREME RULEZ MATCH!

BRAWLIEPOP BARBIE
- vs -
GCC's Dom Durango™
- vs -
EL LANDERSON

TRIPLE THREAT TABLES ELIMINATION MATCH!

Eliminate your opponents from the match by throwing them through a table! The last person who hasn't been put through a table wins!

MICHEAL GRAVES © & 'LANE-'L PENNYFARTHING
- vs -
MISS FURRY © & THE ATOMIC BAT

BONEYARD TAG MATCH!

This no-rules, no-holds barred tag match takes place INSIDE The Boneyard! The only way to win is by pinning one of your opponents, or forcing one of them to submit!

Each team may submit a single 2,000 word RP OR two 1,000 word RPs!

MARISOL VILARO
- vs -
SUMMER PAGE ©

NUMBER 1 CONTENDER'S MATCH!

If Marisol defeats the champion in this singles match, they earn a shot at the Revolution Championship at Bad Medicine!

Prior to the show beginning, we see Dick Lichter standing outside the Little Caesars Arena with members of the XWF crew, making final preparations for the show before the crowd arrives. He looks over a few papers and points to various parts of the building when a white Lexus pulls up to the very front doors of the building. The car turns off and out steps a man in his early 50’s, wearing a suit.

LICHTER: You can’t park there.

MAN: Mr. Lichter. You’re exactly who I’m here to see. I’m former governor Eric Greitens.

Greitens and Lichter both stand there awkwardly as Lichter waits for Greitens to continue. When he realizes he won’t get any further information, he pushes forward.

LICHTER: The former governor of…Michigan?

GREITENS: Missouri.

LICHTER: Ok, well then I’m going to need you to explain to me why I should give a fuck.

GREITENS: I am here on behalf of my personal friend and client, Elon Musk. Otherwise known as the richest man in the world, and you’re boss.

Lichter’s expression changes to one of concern.

GREITENS: I was sent here to handle some business since Mr. Musk does not feel like you can properly guarantee his safety on your show.

LICHTER: That’s unfair, I totally…

GREITENS: CONSIDERING a certain fired former wrestler somehow weaseled his way into the tag title match at Leap of Faith, it’s very obvious to Mr. Musk that you’ve lost control of the brand. And so we need to reevaluate your position as Anarchy General Manager. Meet me in the ring.

Greitens storms away, leaving a very worried Lichter standing in the parking lot.

Main Event Ish hits and he walks out behind the XWF Universe wearing an Yeet Sunglasses and a Yeet shirt with a Fetu logo on the side of his pants and a Yeet on the right side and he makes a stop near the steps and raise his hands up and wave'em his Yeet hands and the Universe was following him and they were doing it alone side with him and he kepts on walking down the stairs and slapping kids and adults high five and making his way down the ring…

TODD: There he is! The man they call ‘Main Event’! Jay Fetu!

BAMA: Toddrick, what the hell is a ‘Yeet’ and why are all these people yelling it?

TODD: It’s an interjection! Gen-Z slang used to express surprise, approval, or excited enthusiasm!

BAM: …Nope, still don’t get it!

TODD: You don’t have to, Bama! All you have to get is that Jey Fetu has been killing it since his debut! We watched him eliminate El Landerson in the Leap of Faith Qualifier, and he managed to win a huge triple-threat match this past Warfare! But can he keep his momentum going against the biggest challenge of his career to-date?

Jey climbs over the barricade and sees two Commentary of Bama and Todd slapping hands aloneside with Jey Fetu and he gets inside of the ring in climbs on the top rope and continues waving his Yeet hands towards the Universe and he gets down and the XWF Universe shouts replay it once more and he does and gets right back up on the top rope and repeat the same Yeeting with the Universe and hops down and music fades and waits for his Opponent to appear…

Oswald stands amidst an indie metal band, watching the ring, looking at the band. Soon a choir is heard as the band begins to play his theme song. He walks towards the lead guitarist, clapping him gently on the back so as to not mess up her playing. Oswald, walks down the ramp, the bottom of his white cloak dragging along the ground. Once at the ring, he'd leap onto the apron before launching himself to show how strong and agile he was to lift such mass with such ease right over the top rope and de-cloaked himself, placing it in his corner before stretching out his arms in a lower case t and roaring out to the crowd before going and sitting on top of his cloak, awaiting the bell as he mentally plans out the match, as well as how to try and beat his opponent.

TODD: Mister Oz! One of the biggest, strongest tanks in the XWF! An absolute powerhouse!

BAMA: He’s a damn BEAST, Toddrick! He’ll leave that Fetu in a body bag! He’s hearing all this yeet, yeet, yeet nonsense and he’s like “oooh, so?”

TODD: Breaking the Fourth Wall there, Bama.

BAMA: I have no idea what you’re referring to.

Jay bounces on his heels, removing his stunner shades, ready to sprint out of the starting gate.

But Mister Oz doesn't move. He stands in the center of the ring with his arms spread wide, soaking in the adoration of his students gathered around ringside. His lips curl into a serene smile.

TODD: Mister Oz is looking like he’s content to let Fetu set the pace when the bell rings.

BAMA: It’s a damn invitation. A challenge. A command. Come to me and take your trip to the woodshed, ya idjit!

MR. OZ
- vs -
JAY FETU

X-TREME RULEZ MATCH!

HIGHLIGHT REEL

The moment the bell rings, Jay Fetu explodes from his corner with a…

SUPERKICK.

The shot cracks across Oz's jaw!

TODD: Jay Fetu wasting absolutely no time!

BAMA: That's because Jay Fetu knows exactly what he's got! One YEET! One mistake! Lights out!

Oz stumbles—

Fetu rebounds!

FETU SPEAR!

The impact folds Oz in half and sends him skidding across the canvas!

TODD: SPEAR! SPEAR! SPEAR!

BAMA: BOY CAME OUT THE GATE THROWIN' HAYMAKERS!

Fetu hooks the leg!

ONE!

TWO!

Oz powers out.

The crowd erupts.

BAMA: Wow! Fetu’s here lookin’ to do what he said in his promo and avenge hisself for what Oz did in the Leap of Faith qualifier!

TODD: On that topic, what *did* Oz do, considering he wasn’t in that match and also didn’t appear?

BAMA: …I’ll get back to you on that, Todd.

[Image: wireline.png]

Oz rises slowly.

Smiling.

Almost amused.

Fetu snarls.

The expression alone makes his temper flare.

He charges again.

Running forearm!

Hip attack!

Another superkick!

Oz is rocked backward into the corner!

Fetu charges!

Corner Enzuigiri!

The kick snaps Oz's head sideways!

TODD: Jay Fetu is overwhelming Mister Oz!

BAMA: Oz thinks he’s some kinda God. Turns out God's getting his ass kicked!

Fetu grabs Oz—

Northern Lights Suplex!

Bridges!

ONE!

TWO!

NO!

Oz kicks free and starts rising again…

TODD: Oz is looking more like he’s getting impatient than like he’s getting beat…

Both men scramble up.

Oz suddenly catches Fetu by the throat. And heaves him off his feet!

BEAR HUG!

The massive arms lock around Fetu's ribs!

TODD: And just like that the momentum changes!

BAMA: That's the thing about powerhouses, Todd! Sometimes they only need one grip!

Oz squeezes.

Fetu's face twists.

His feet leave the mat.

The pressure increases.

Then increases again.

Then again.

Fetu finally clubs both fists into Oz's skull.

The hold breaks.

Fetu lands.

Superkick—

Oz ducks!

HIGH KNEE!

The strike detonates against Fetu's face.

[Image: wireline.png]

Fetu stumbles backward.

Oz follows.

Big Boot.

Dropkick.

Clothesline.

Each strike lands harder than the last.

The crowd boos vehemently!

Oz closes his eyes and extends his hands, as if a god accepting worship.

TODD: This man genuinely believes these people revere him.

BAMA: And some of them do, Toddrick! This man is the Savior of Chicago!

Oz grabs Fetu.

Delayed Vertical Suplex.

The crowd counts.

One...

Two...

Three...

Four...

Five...

Oz begins doing squats.

The crowd loses its mind.

Six...

Seven...

Eight...

Then—

WHAM!

Fetu crashes down hard.

Oz covers.

ONE!

TWO!

Fetu kicks out.

[Image: wireline.png]

Oz rolls outside.

He reaches under the ring.

Table.

The crowd cheers.

TODD: Here we go!

BAMA: Now we're speakin' my language!

Oz slides the table inside.

Sets it up.

Turns around—

FETU DIVE!

Jay Fetu launches through the ropes like a missile!

Both men are wiped out on the floor!

TODD: GOOD LORD!

BAMA: THAT MAN JUST TURNED HIMSELF INTO A HUMAN CANNONBALL!

The crowd chants.

Fetu rises first.

Breathing hard.

Angry.

Always angry.

He grabs a steel chair.

Oz gets to one knee.

CRACK!

The chair bends across Oz's back.

CRACK!

Again.

CRACK!

Again.

Oz drops to all fours.

TODD: This is legal in X-Treme Rules!

BAMA: It oughta be illegal to hit somebody that hard!

Fetu raises the chair one more time—

Oz explodes upward.

PELE KICK!

The chair flies into the crowd!

Fetu collapses.

[Image: wireline.png]

Both men stagger back into the ring.

Oz sees the table.

A wicked smile spreads across his face.

He grabs Fetu.

Gorilla Press Gutbuster!

Fetu is launched upward—

Then dropped spine-first across Oz's knee!

The impact echoes.

Oz drags him toward the table.

Positions him.

Climbs the turnbuckles.

The crowd stands.

TODD: Wait a minute...

BAMA: Ain't no way a man that size is thinkin' what I think he's thinkin'!

Oz launches.

BOONE BOMB!

The double side flip crashes directly through Fetu and the table!

WOOD EXPLODES EVERYWHERE!

HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!

TODD: HE HIT IT!

BAMA: I THINK HE KILLED HIM!

Oz crawls.

Throws an arm over Fetu.

ONE!

TWO!

THR—

FETU KICKS OUT!

The arena erupts.

[Image: wireline.png]

For the first time—

Oz looks shocked.

Not angry.

Not smug.

Confused.

Fetu sits up through the wreckage.

A trickle of blood running from his forehead.

The crowd roars.

The anger is gone.

Now there's only determination.

Oz charges.

Clothesline.

Fetu ducks.

Superkick.

Oz staggers.

Running Corkscrew Forearm!

Oz spins.

Fetu roars.

Hip Attack!

Oz crashes into the corner.

TODD: Jay Fetu has found another gear!

BAMA: That's what happens when you make a Samoan mad!

Fetu backs into the opposite corner.

The crowd rises.

Everyone knows what's coming.

YEET!

YEET!

YEET!

YEET!

Fetu charges.

FETU SPEAR!

Oz is cut in half!

TODD: HE GOT ALL OF IT!

Instead of covering—

Fetu looks upward.

The crowd explodes.

He climbs.

Top rope.

Balance steady.

Oz barely moving.

Fetu leaps.

FETU SPLASH!

Direct hit!

The ring shakes.

ONE!

TWO!

THR—

NO!

Oz survives!

The audience can't believe it.

Neither can Fetu.

[Image: wireline.png]

Fetu pounds the mat.

Furious.

He pulls Oz up.

Trying for another spear.

He runs.

Oz sidesteps.

Fetu hits the turnbuckles chest-first.

Oz immediately latches onto him from behind.

Mandible Claw.

"I Failed You."

TODD: OH NO!

BAMA: HE'S GOT IT!

Oz's fingers disappear into Fetu's mouth.

The hold is locked deep.

Fetu thrashes.

Punches.

Kicks.

Tries to pry the hand free.

Nothing works.

Oz drags him backward to the center of the ring.

His followers are chanting.

"OZ!"

"OZ!"

"OZ!"

The arena becomes a cathedral.

A congregation.

A sacrifice.

Fetu drops to one knee.

Then both.

Then all fours.

His movements slow.

Slower.

Slower.

Finally—

Nothing.

The referee checks.

No response.

Calls for the bell.

DING DING DING.

Winner: Mister Oz

TODD: It's over! Mister Oz survives an absolute war!

BAMA: Survives? Todd, that lunatic got SPEARED, SPLASHED, HIT WITH A CHAIR, DROVE THROUGH A TABLE... and somehow still found a way to make Jay Fetu fail!

TODD: Whether he's a mentor or something much darker... Mister Oz just made a statement tonight.

When "Mickey" begins playing, the fans pop to their feet and dance along to the catchy beats. They give a big whooping cheer when Brawliepop Barbie comes cartwheeling out waving her pom poms. Their cheers grow when she zooms down the aisle doing non-stop backflips all the way to ringside. Where most competitors would get into the ring at this point, Brawliepop does not. She skips and bounces around the entire ringside area tagging hands. She stops by the commentary booth and high fives Anarchy's hype men, then picks out a lucky little boy or girl and gives them her pom poms. As the lucky fans goes crazy with joy, she does a quick cheer routine for them then hops into the ring. She does a series of dazzling handsprings into the splits and poses.

Todd: Brawliepop Barbie has already won over the fans! Her upbeat energy and passion for people-pleasing makes her a favorite with kids of all ages!

Bama: Hey now, Todd- it’s not just kids who like watching Barbie bounce around the ring!

Todd: Oh, right. Gooners like her too.

GCC’s Chef Dom Durango appears on the ramp way, an unnaturally large smile stretched across his aging face.

Dawning a toque blanche, and a white chef's coat, he rolls out a table-side cooking cart and slowly raises his arms into the air.

Mamma Mia!

He brings his hands back to his lips, kissing his fingertips and stretching his arms out again

The crowd reacts with an indifferent murmur to what is meant to be quite the spectacle whilst Dom Durango waltzes down the ramp and slides into the ring.

TODD: And there he is folks, the GCC-XWF crossover sensation known as Dom Durango!

BAMA: I still don’t know if this guy gets that this is a wrestling company. When I met him backstage, he told me he was looking forward to cooking dinner for his opponents tonight!

TODD: Surely he means it in the metaphorical sense! But then again…I don’t know what evidence there is to say conclusively one way or the other.

BAMA: This Durango cat is unique, I’ll give him that! But I’m NOT giving him a tip, no matter how good the food is!

Hello-ah, fans of da XWF-ah! Chef Dom Dorango has-ah arrived!

HIGHLIGHT REEL

The bell rang and GCC's Dom Durango immediately slid out of the ring.
Instead of attacking either opponent, he reached beneath the apron and pulled out a folding table.
The crowd buzzed as Dom carefully unfolded it beside the ring.
Bama: Durango finally figured out that this is a wrestling league, and not a cooking league! He’s going right for the table to end this match early!
Todd: I’m not so sure about that, Todd…
Then he reached into his apron.
And produced a whisk.
Bama: Damn it!
Brawliepop Barbie and El Landerson stared at him.
Dom nodded proudly.
He reached into another pocket and pulled out a wooden spoon.
Then a chef's towel.
Then a small container of seasoning.
Meanwhile, inside the ring, El Landerson shrugged and charged Brawliepop.
The two collided in a blur of speed.
El Landerson flipped over her with a handspring and snapped off a lightning-fast armdrag.
Brawliepop rolled through it, cartwheeled back to her feet, and answered with a headscissors that launched the luchador across the canvas.
Outside the ring, Dom was busy dusting the table.
Bama: While El Landerson and Barbie are duking it out, Dom is just cooking up dinner outside the ring!
Todd: Well, is that really so bad, Bama? I mean, I am getting hungry…
El Landerson springboarded onto the ropes and flew backward with a picture-perfect moonsault.
Brawliepop dodged.
El landed on his feet.
Brawliepop immediately hit a standing shooting star press.
El rolled away.
Both competitors kipped up simultaneously.
Outside, Dom had somehow acquired a chef's knife.
A completely harmless plastic chef's knife.
He began pretending to chop vegetables on the table.
The crowd laughed.
Back inside, El Landerson exploded off the ropes and launched into a corkscrew crossbody.
Brawliepop caught him.
El shifted his weight.
The pair tumbled into a series of counters before El finally escaped and drilled her with a spinning heel kick.
Brawliepop staggered.
El charged.
She vaulted over him.
Springboarded.
And blasted him with a flying dropkick that sent him crashing through the ropes to the floor.
Brawliepop launched herself through the ropes with a breathtaking tope con hilo.
She wiped out both Dom and El Landerson!
Todd: Despite Dom’s best efforts to cook, he just got dragged into this match for real!
Bama: Now it’s time to see what the Chef Boy Ardee is made of!
Dom rolled away clutching his chef hat.
The action spilled around ringside.
Brawliepop set up a second table against the barricade.
El Landerson recovered and sprinted up the barricade before launching backward with a moonsault onto her.
The impact crushed her beneath him.
Dom wandered over carrying the first table.
Apparently he had decided the placement wasn't optimal.
He repositioned it.
Looked at it.
Shook his head.
Moved it again.
Still unsatisfied.
El and Brawliepop fought back toward the ring.
El attempted a springboard hurricanrana.
Brawliepop caught him in midair.
Powerbomb position.
The crowd rose.
She charged toward the table.
El twisted free.
Both competitors crashed into the table.
It wobbled violently but somehow refused to break.
Dom applauded the table's craftsmanship.
He gave it a thumbs up.
Brawliepop and El Landerson exchanged forearms.
Then kicks.
Then more forearms.
Neither giving an inch.
El spun into a tornado DDT.
Brawliepop rolled through.
She sprang to the top rope.
Missile dropkick.
Both competitors collapsed.
Dom saw his opportunity.
He climbed into the ring carrying a frying pan.
The crowd erupted!
Todd: The moment is now! Durango is finally get involved in this match!
Bama: And his opponents had better watch out, because he’s swinging around a hot grease pan!
Dom swung hard.
El ducked.
Brawliepop ducked.
The frying pan slipped from his hands and flew into the crowd.
Dom panicked.
And El Landerson blasted him with a superkick!
Dom tumbled through the ropes and landed beside his precious table.
Todd: Well…so much for that!
Brawliepop and El resumed their aerial war.
Springboards.
Counters.
Handsprings.
Near eliminations.
The pace became frantic!
Todd: Brawliepop Barbie and El Landerson are putting on a show here tonight! They’re both looking to make an impact statement tonight!
Bama: This match is supposed to be a tables match, but no one’s going through a table: they’re just soaring through the air!
Finally Brawliepop rocked El with a spinning enzuigiri.
He staggered toward the corner.
Brawliepop climbed to the top rope.
Then higher.
Perched on the very top buckle.
El Landerson wobbled on his feet near the ringside table.
Brawliepop launched herself into the air.
Bama: PLATTE RIVER PLUNGE! SHE’S HITTING THE PLATTE RIVER PLUNGE!
Triple rotation.
Moonsault legdrop.
A breathtaking spiral through the air.
She crashed directly onto El Landerson!
The force drove him through the table in an explosion of wood.
But at the last possible moment El shifted slightly!
His body rolled just enough-
Brawliepop's own momentum carried her legs and hips through the collapsing table as well.
Wood shattered everywhere!
The crowd exploded!
The official rushed over.
El Landerson lay buried beneath the wreckage.
Brawliepop was tangled in the remains.
Both competitors had gone through the table…..
The referee immediately signaled for a double elimination!

El Landerson has been eliminated.
Brawliepop Barbie has been eliminated.

WINNER BY DOUBLE ELIMINATION: DOM DURANGO!

Inside the ring, Dom Durango slowly stood up.
He looked around.
Looked at the broken table.
Looked at the referee.
Looked at the crowd.
Then pointed at himself.
The referee nodded.
Dom Durango's eyes widened.
He grabbed his chef hat and triumphantly threw it into the air!
Bama: That’s it?! That’s the match?! How can that be the end of it?
Todd: Dom Durango somehow won the match without ever putting anyone through a table! It’s a miracle!
Bama: It’s a god-damn travesty!
Todd: Well Bama…you’ll just have to STEW on it! It’s what the chef would want!
Bama: ….I hate you.

XWF Anarchy comes back from commercial, and out from the back, with no music or fanfare, walks Eric Greitens with Dick Lichter nervously walking behind him.

BAMA T: Look, Todd! It’s…uh…who is that?

TODD: That’s Eric Greitens, the former governor of Missouri and a personal friend of Elon Musk.

BAMA T: That’s right! I knew that. I just wanted to make sure the audience knew that.

In the ring, a table has been set up, with three executive desk chairs - two on one side of the table, and one on the other. Greitens has a briefcase in his right hand, which he slides into the ring as he reaches the bottom of the ramp. He walks up the steel steps and steps into the ring, letting go of the middle rope before Lichter can step through, allowing the rope the bounce back and smack Lichter in the top of the head.

BAMA T: Now that’s just disrespectful.

TODD: Far be it from me to defend our General Manager but I have to agree with you there, Bama.

Greitens picks up the briefcase and gestures to one of the two chairs facing away from the ramp before he takes his seat in the chair facing the ramp. Lichter rubs his head and sits down as Greitens places his briefcase on the table.

GREITENS: The last thing myself or Mr. Musk wanted to do was to do this publicly, but unfortunately, recent events have made it so this can only be done in the audience of witnesses. Mr. Lichter, for the past several months, it is clear you have had no control over this show. The wrestlers backstage don’t seem to respect you, the audience doesn’t see you as an authority figure, and every employee in the back seems to see you as nothing more than a punchline.

Lichter grabs a microphone from the center of the table and begins to defend himself.

LICHTER: Well, “Governor”, it’s really hard for the boys in the back to take me seriously when I have three bosses above me constantly undermining me. I go to lay down the law around here, and everyone is just waiting around for Mr. Musk, or Mr. Bezos, or…”Marky Z” to show up and give their own orders.

Greitens, who has barely been paying attention, opens his briefcase and pulls out a large file, which he tosses into the center of the table.

GREITENS: These sound like excuses, Dick. And Mr. Musk doesn’t appreciate excuses. But still, most of that could be forgiven. What Mr. Musk wants to know, what the rest of the ownership wants to know, and what these fans want to know is simply this - how the hell was Centurion able to inject himself into the Anarchy Tag Title match at Leap of Faith after he had been explicitly fired by Mr. Musk?!

The crowd cheers as the mention of the XWF Legend, but Lichter looks back at Greitens with a confused look on his face.

LICHTER: That wasn’t my call! I was told it was a demand from management! You think I WANT that fool here?!

Greitens just shakes his head as he closes the briefcase and sets it down on the mat next to him.

GREITENS: So your excuse for this is that you’re too incompetent to make sure all the wrestlers involved in your matches are supposed to be there? I have to saw, while I’m disappointed, I am not surprised. This is exactly what Mr. Musk expected from you, which is why I brought your contract with us tonight. Before I get to doing what I came here to do, however, there is someone else I need to speak with. Mr. Cortinovis? Would you join us in the ring?

The crowd roars to life as Greitens stands up and buttons up his suit jacket, awaiting the arrival of Centurion.

The crowd explodes as from the back steps Centurion, wearing a suit of his own.

TODD: Well, it’s business time for the legend.

Centurion pats his jacket before confidently walking down the rampway.

BAMA: I don’t understand this. Centurion was FIRED! He should be arrested, not brought to the ring! I don’t know what Gerkins is doing!

TODD: It’s Greitens, and I’m not sure, either.

Centurion climbs into the ring and reaches into his suit jacket. He pulls out a rolled up document that he slaps down onto the table. Greitens steps out from behind the table, and…

1000 MILE SLAM!!

BAMA: Centurion just slammed the former governor of Minnesota!

TODD: Missouri.

BAMA: Whatever!

The crowd roars again as Greitens bounces hard off the mat and rolls out of the ring. He grabs Greitens’ briefcase and tosses it out of the ring before gesturing to Lichter to sit back down. Centurion sits down in the chair now vacated by Greitens and puts his feet up on the table.

CENTURION: Let me start this off by first establishing some ground rules. If Elon Musk has something to say to me, he can come say it himself. If he’s too chicken shit to do that, then I will beat the unholy hell out of every failed politician he brings out here to be his mouthpiece. I do not have the time nor the patience to sit here and listen to people with no power cosplaying like they do! Now, Dick, we have some business to discuss.

Centurion points to the document he slapped down on the table, and gestures to him to read it.

CENTURION: I want to give everyone here a little history lesson. The year is 2007. Professional wrestling as a business was fractured. New companies were popping up every week. And the XWF Universal Champion, Hardcore Smitty, had decided to jump ship and join another company.

The crowd pops at the mention of the XWF Legend Hardcore Smitty.

CENTURION: It was a huge blow to the XWF at the time, especially since Smitty refused to give the Universal Title back to the company. There were tons of lawyers involved, and long story short, the title, well…it just wasn’t here anymore. There was however, another title that happened to exist at that time - the World Title, which was held by yours truly after a historic victory at Zero Tolerance. And trust me when I tell you this, I had every company known to man contracting me after that, offering me LOADS of cash. The biggest one? It was run by a disgruntled former XWF wrestler named Nick Ryan.

The crowd , or at least those who remember the name, boos.

CENTURION: I could have taken the money, and it would have been the death blow to the XWF that was finally coming. So a meeting had to take place. A meeting that took place between me…and Jon Brown.

Another cheer.

TODD: A nice reaction for the longest tenured owner of the XWF.

BAMA T: That’s great, but what’s the point?

CENTURION: Now I know the phrase “they need me” gets thrown around a lot, especially from Napoleon Complex bastards who think they’re far more important than they are, but trust me when I tell you this…Jon Brown and the XWF NEEDED me to stay at that time. They needed stability at the top, and they needed to make sure their new top title wasn’t going to leave just like the previous one did. So, I made sure Jon set me up, so that I never had to go through another negotiation process again with this company. What you have in front of you there, Dick, is my contract, which ends…on July 31, 2037.

BAMA: WHAT?!

CENTURION: That’s right, Dick. Jon Brown signed me to a 30 year contract! But that’s not all. There’s a great provision on page eight if you want to take a look at it.

Lichter furiously looks through the contact and gets to page eight. His eyes dart down the paper, then he gets a confused look on his face, followed by a look of true horror.

CENTURION: That’s right, Dick. I knew there was always a chance Jon was going to sell this company. Hell, ownership changes happen all the time in this industry, so I just wanted to make sure that the contract is tied to the company, NOT the owner. That regardless who WHO signs the check, I still receive mine as long as I lace up the boots and step into the ring, but if for some reason the owner of the company didn’t want me around anymore, they would have the option to buy me out of my contract. After all, I’m a decent enough guy. I don’t want to be here if someone doesn’t want me here. So, Eric!

Centurion addresses Geitens, who is slowly crawling his way up the ramp, cradling his briefcase under his arms.

CENTURION: You let Elon know if he wants to fire me, he can. I’ll gladly walk away, no questions asked, and he’ll never see me again. He just owes me…480 million dollars!

The crowd cheers as Greitens gets a look of anger through his pain as Centurion laughs and spins around in his chair. Lichter remains stunned in his chair as a “Centurion! Centurion!” chant begins.

CENTURION: Oh, and on your way out the door, you make sure to tell that son of a bitcch Graves that I’m coming for him! That I’m getting my OWN partner, and I’m taking those titles away from him, and there isn’t a damn thing he can do about it!

“Wild Thing” plays again as Centurion hops up from his chair and onto the table, taunt spamming towards the crowd, who are soaking it all in.

BAMA T: 30 years? 30 years?!

TODD: It looks like Centurion isn’t going anywhere anytime soon, though I doubt Elon Musk is going to take this lying down!

Location: Graves Boneyard

Miss Furry and Atomic Bat are already in the ring.

TODD: "Ladies and gentlemen, this is not a normal tag team match. There are no disqualifications. No count-outs. No rope breaks. The only way to win is by pinfall or submission, and this entire training facility and everything in it, is legal to to use."

BAMA T: "That’s a real polite way of saying somebody’s gonna get concussed by a Bowflex, baby!"

The camera pans across the Boneyard.

Suddenly—

“I WANNA ROCK!”

Lane’l Pennyfarthing bursts in, spins, points, and air guitars his way to the ring.

Behind him lumbers Michael Graves, who drags a steel chair behind him.

Lane’l hops up onto the apron and throws both arms wide.

"CUT THE MUSIC!"

The music doesn't cut.

Lane'l looks around, irritated.

"I said cut the music!"

It still doesn't cut.

At Ringside, Michael lifts the chair and starts air guitaring along with it, terribly and off rhythm.

BAMA T: "That boy is playing the hell out of that chair guitar, baby!"

The music finally cuts. Michael continues to strum his chair anyway.

"Places, everyone! Places! I require emotional honesty, clean blocking, and at least one man with a camera to capture my good side!"

TODD: “Lane'l Pennyfarthing apparently still believes he is on the set of the Vinnie Lane biopic.”

Lane’l turns to face the ring, dramatically holding up one finger.

"Tonight, dear viewers, you shall witness art. You shall witness violence. You shall witness two brave performers stepping into the sacred temple of combat to portray icons with an artistic flair that is beyond mortal comprehension."

Lane'l turns back to face Michael Graves.

"Now, Michael, on my cue, you enter frame with menace. I shall begin with a monologue about identity, masks, and possibly the tragic eroticism of hair metal—"

Furry shoots forward and grabs Lane'l by the back of the wig and yanks him over the top rope.

Lane’l hits the canvas hard and the official calls for the bell.

DING! DING! DING!

TODD: "And Miss Furry starts the match!"

BAMA T: "She might have started the match, but she just canceled the whole damn production, baby!"

Lane’l pushes up on his elbows with wide eyes.

"Madem, we have not discussed chorography!"

Furry stomps on the back of his head and grinds his face into the canvas.

"Improvise!"

Atomic Bat springs towards the ropes as Michael climbs the apron and launches herself into a springboard arm-drag that sends Michael flying into the ring.

The chair flies from his grip and lands on the mat.

Michael rolls to his knees and grabs the chair and swings, but Atomic Bat rolls out of the way and the stray chair clips Lane'l in the back as he tries to stand.

CRACK!

Lane’l stiffens and drops back to the mat.

"Excellent betrayal, old friend..."

Michael looks down at him with the chair in hand.

"Did I chair good?"

Furry answers by kicking the chair straight back into Michael’s face.

Michael collapses backward and lays on the mat starfished.

TODD: "Miss Furry just drove that chair back into Michael Graves’ face!"

BAMA T: "And this one doesn't heal, baby! You know that's a concussion!"

Furry grabs Michael by the ankle. Michael tries to kick free, but Furry twists his leg and drops into a seated leg-bar.

Lane’l crawls toward the ropes, still clutching his back, but Atomic Bat cuts him off with a basement dropkick.

Furry drops an elbow across Michael's thigh. She keeps hold of his ankle, turns him halfway over, and drives a knee into the back of his leg.

Michael reaches for the chair, but Furry releases and stomps his hand and the Atomic Bat snatches it up for herself.

Atomic Bat sets it up and rebounds off of the ropes.

She leaps, plants one foot on the seat, and springboards off it with a low missile-dropkick that knocks Lane’l under the bottom rope and out to the floor.

TODD: "Atomic Bat using that chair as a launch pad!"

BAMA T: "That bat can fly, baby!"

Lane’l hits the concrete and rolls toward the heavy bags.

Michael pushes up to one knee as Furry grabs the chair and snaps it shut.

Michael rushes and swings a wild punch, but Furry ducks, and cracks the chair across his back.

Michael drops to one knee as Atomic Bat rushes in with a running high knee to the side of his head.

Michael spills through the ropes and lands on the floor beside Lane’l.

TODD: "Furry and Atomic Bat have cleared the ring!"

BAMA T: "And now the safest part of this match is behind them, baby!"

Furry slides out after them.

Atomic Bat follows, leaping over the top and landing lightly on the concrete.

Lane’l reaches up and pulls himself against one of the heavy bags. Michael crawls toward him.

The two barely get upright before Furry and Atomic Bat close in.

Lane’l ducks behind the heavy bag and shoves the bag with both hands.

It swings into Atomic Bat’s chest, knocking her back on her ass.

Lane’l looks stunned that it worked.

Then Furry grabs him by the wig from the other side of the bag and yanks him forward burying his face into the leather. Atomic bat rushes in, and Furry steps out of the way just as she dropkicks the bag.

Lane’l bounces backward and trips over a medicine ball.

Meanwhile, Michael lurches in with another chair, but Furry turns just as Michael swings.

Furry ducks and the chair slams into the heavy bag, firing it back into his skull.

He staggers and Atomic Bat runs in, jumpping onto a nearby weight bench, and launching off it with a springboard back elbow that rockets Michael into the lockers.

BANG!

Lane’l gets to his feet and grabs the heavy bag chain.

He pulls on it, but the bag barely moves before Furry steps in and kicks him in the stomach.

Lane’l doubles over and Furry hooks him by the head running him face-first into the heavy bag. Atomic Bat follows with a running knee that sandwiches Lane’l’s head. Lane’l drops to the floor and Furry turns her attention toward Michael, who has pulled himself up against the lockers.

One locker door hangs half-open beside him.

He reaches inside and Furry rushes him.

Michael yanks out a dirty pair of boxers and throws them at her.

They bounce off her face.

Furry stops and claws at her face with a sour expression.

TODD: "Dirty laundry just stopped Furry in her tracks!"

BAMA T: "I can see why, baby! The dirty drawers have Micheal Graves name scribbled on them, LOOK!"

Michael grabs her and shoves her into the locker then grabs the door and slams it shut, but Furry catches it with both hands.

Atomic Bat rushes in and kicks Michael’s legs out from under him.

Michael crumples to the floor.

TODD: "This is already spilling into every corner of the Boneyard!"

BAMA T: "And we haven’t even found the weird rooms yet, baby!"

Furry grabs Lane’l by the ankle and Atomic Bat grabs Michael by the mask. They start dragging both men toward the office hallway.

Michael suddenly reaches up and grabs the bottom of Atomic Bat’s mask and yanks down. Atomic Bat stumbles face first into some gym equipment.

CLANG!

Furry turns, distracted, and Lane’l kicks upward catches her in the jaw.

Furry staggers and Lane’l rolls away, clutching his ribs.

TODD: "And just like that, the imposters have found an opening!"

BAMA T: "It wasn’t pretty, baby, but neither are they!"

Michael grabs Atomic Bat by the back of the head and runs her through some more gym equipment.

BANG!

Michael pulls her up and whips her back into the heavy bag.

The bag barely moves, but Atomic Bat bounces off and drops to the concrete.

Lane’l finds himself back at the heavy bag chain as Furry rushes him.

Lane’l ducks and yanks the chain as hard as he can.

The heavy bag swings and clips Furry in the side, rag dolling her against the wall.

THUD!

Lane’l looks shocked.

"Ha!"

Michael looks at Lane'l.

Lane’l looks at Michael.

They both look at the heavy bag.

Then they both grab the chain.

TODD: "Lane’l Pennyfarthing may have accidentally figured out how to use the Boneyard against its own team!"

BAMA T: "Accident or not, that bag just turned Miss Furry inside out!"

As Furry starts to rise, Michael and Lane’l pull the bag back and let it go, and It swings into Furry again, driving her back into the wall.

THUD!

Michael grabs the chair from the floor.

Lane’l points toward Atomic Bat.

Michael turns and swings.

Atomic Bat ducks.

The chair smashes into the locker behind her and she kicks Michael in the stomach, but Lane’l rushes in from the side and clips the back of her knee.

Atomic Bat drops and Michael brings the chair down across her back.

CRACK!

TODD: "Steel chair across the back of Atomic Bat!"

BAMA T: "That one had a receipt attached, baby!"

Michael raises the chair again.

Lane’l stops him and points toward the weight bench.

Michael nods like he understands.

He does not.

He grabs Atomic Bat by the cape and drags her toward the bench.

Lane’l clears off a couple of loose dumbbells.

One rolls off the side and lands on Michael’s foot.

Michael hops in pain, but Lane’l pulls Atomic Bat up and hooks her by the head.

TODD: "DDT onto the weight bench!"

BAMA T: "Holy smokes, baby! He just cracked her skull like an egg!"

Atomic Bat rolls over, blood starting to run down her mask.

Lane’l slides in and hooks the leg.

ONE!

TWO!!

Furry breaks it up!

Lane’l rolls away, holding his arm.

Michael immediately charges.

Furry ducks under his clothesline.

Michael keeps running and crashes into the weight bench, flipping over it and landing hard.

CRASH!

TODD: "Michael Graves just wiped himself out on that bench!"

BAMA T: "But he hit it with confidence, baby!"

Furry turns back toward Lane’l.

Lane’l grabs one of the small dumbbells from the floor.

Furry steps in.

Lane’l swings.

Furry catches his wrist and twists it like Steven Seagal.

Lane’l drops the dumbbell and pleads for her to release him.

Michael, still on the floor behind the bench, shoves it forward with both feet.

The bench skids into the back of Furry’s legs, knocking her off balance.

Lane’l rushes in and plants her with a snap powerslam outta nowhere.

TODD: "Powerslam by Lane’l!"

BAMA T: "That looked like a real wrestler for a second, baby!"

Lane’l covers.

ONE!

TWO!!

Furry kicks out.

Lane’l rolls to his knees, breathing hard.

Michael crawls over beside him and points toward the office hallway.

Lane’l nods.

Michael takes Atomic Bat and Lane’l takes Furry. They pop a few shots to make them compliant, and begin dragging them toward the locked offices.

TODD: "Michael Graves and Lane’l Pennyfarthing have turned this match around, and now they’re taking this fight deeper into the Boneyard!"

BAMA T: "In the Boneyard, deeper isn't where you wanna go, baby."

Michael kicks the first office door he sees.

Atomic Bat suddenly drives an elbow into Michael’s ribs, but Michael answers by running her straight through the open doorway.

CRASH!

The door slams against the inside wall as Atomic Bat tumbles across the floor of Office 1B.

The camera follows them in to find that every inch of the office is Dolly Waters.

Posters.

Photos.

Magazine clippings.

A cardboard standee.

A Dolly Waters lunchbox sitting on the desk.

A framed used napkin that may or may not actually have anything to do with Dolly Waters.

TODD: "Office 1B appears to be some kind of Dolly Waters shrine."

BAMA T: "Eh... After all these years, it's still weird, baby!"

Michael stops dead.

Atomic Bat rolls to one knee, holding her back.

Michael ignores her and steps toward a giant Dolly Waters poster.

"Pretty..."

Atomic Bat looks up.

Michael reaches out and gently touches the poster with one finger.

"She understands me."

Atomic Bat’s eyes narrow beneath the mask.

TODD: "Michael Graves has been completely distracted by the Dolly Waters poster!"

BAMA T: "The man found his weakness, baby! It’s laminated!"

Out in the hallway, Lane’l has Furry by the hair and the back of her gear.

Furry throws an elbow into his ribs.

Lane’l staggers, but keeps hold.

Furry throws another elbow.

Lane’l grits his teeth, spins her, and hurls her shoulder-first through the next door down.

KABOOM!

The door flies open and Furry crashes into Office 2B.

Lane’l stumbles in after her and finds himself standing inside what looks less like an office and more like a serial killer’s yard sale.

Weapons are stacked everywhere.

A shattered piece of table with old vampire blood on it.

A bucket of moldy slop labeled XTREME GRITS.

A dented shovel.

A barbed wire bat with a sticky note that says: "DO NOT LICK AGAIN!"

TODD: "Office 2B is being used as storage for Micheal Graves’ favorite weapons from previous matches!"

BAMA T: "That’s the evidence room, baby!"

Lane’l’s eyes light up.

"Props!"

Furry pushes herself up as Lane’l starts digging through the pile.

He pulls out a stop sign.

Looks at it.

Tosses it aside.

He pulls out a toaster wrapped in a chain.

Considers it...

Then tosses that aside too.

Suddenly, Lane’l freezes.

His hands slowly rise, holding something long, horrible, and unmistakably stupid.

THE ROBODICK!

Lane’l stares at it.

Furry stares at it.

The referee, peeking in from the hallway, stares at it.

"At last..."

Lane’l turns toward Furry and raises like the Power Sword.

"I HAVE THE—"

Furry lunges.

Lane’l swings.

"POOOOWEEEEERRRRR!"

THWAP!

The ROBODICK smacks Furry across the side of the head, causing her to spin sideways and crash into a shelf full of old match junk.

CLATTER!

TODD: "Lane’l Pennyfarthing just hit Miss Furry with the ROBODICK!"

BAMA T: "I been calling wrestling a long time, baby, and for the first time in my career... I’m gonna pretend I didn’t see that!"

Back in Office 1B, Michael is still staring at the Dolly poster.

Atomic Bat slowly stands behind him.

Michael tilts his head.

"Do you think she likes chairs?"

Atomic Bat grabs the Dolly Waters lunchbox off the desk.

Michael smiles at the poster.

"I like chairs."

Atomic Bat blasts him in the back of the head with the lunchbox.

CLANG!

Michael’s face smacks into the Dolly poster hard enough to draw blood.

He turns, horrified, because now...

Dolly's bleeding.

"You hurt her!"

Atomic Bat answers with a running dropkick that sends Michael backward into the cardboard standee and over the desk.

CRASH!

TODD: "Atomic Bat just used the Dolly shrine against Michael Graves!"

BAMA T: "That bat kicked him right into his feelings, baby!"

In Office 2B, Lane’l drags Furry up by the hair.

Furry suddenly grabs the XTREME GRITS bucket and throws the contents into Lane’l’s face.

Lane’l screams.

"MY EYES! MY BEAUTIFUL ACTING EYES!"

Furry grabs him by the wig and drives him face-first into the weapon shelf.

BANG!

The shelf rocks.

A space helmet drops onto Lane’l’s head.

He staggers backward, blinded, wearing the helmet crooked.

Furry snatches up the ROBODICK.

Lane’l clears one eye and sees her holding it just before she cracks him in the stomach with it.

THWAP!

Lane’l doubles over and falls through the doorway back into the hall.

At the same time, Atomic Bat comes flying out of Office 1B.

Michael stumbles after her.

Atomic Bat backs into the hallway.

Furry steps out of Office 2B.

Lane’l crawls between them with the space helmet still on his head.

Michael points at Atomic Bat.

Then points at the Dolly poster visible behind him.

"Apologize to my girlfriend!"

Atomic Bat tilts her head.

"No!"

Michael charges.

Atomic Bat sidesteps.

Michael runs straight into Lane’l, crashing violently.

Furry drives the ROBODICK into Michael’s ribs.

Michael doubles over and Furry swings again.

Michael catches it with both hands and the two struggle over it.

Lane’l gets up behind Furry, grabs the dented shovel from Office 2B and swings it into the back of Furry’s leg.

CLANG!

Furry drops to one knee.

Michael yanks the ROBODICK away and cracks it over Furry’s head.

Atomic Bat jumps onto Michael’s back, hooks an arm around his throat, and hammers punches into the side of his head.

Michael staggers backward into the Dolly room as Atomic Bat keeps punching.

Michael reaches back, grabs her, and throws her over his shoulder and through the desk.

CRASH!

Michael grabs the framed Dolly poster and smashes it over Atomic Bats head.

Out in the hall, Lane’l pulls Furry up and tries to whip her into the wall.

Furry reverses and Lane’l smashes against the wall and stumbles back.

Furry snatches the space helmet off his head and smashes it into his face.

Furry then grabs the shovel as Michael comes out of Office 1B sobbing over the smashed Dolly poster.

Furry charges and swings the shovel into Michael’s stomach.

Michael drops the poster and doubles over.

Furry brings the shovel down across his back.

CLANG!

Michael falls to all fours.

Furry punts him in the ribs, then grabs him by the mask and runs him face-first into the Office 2B door frame.

Furry doesn’t give him time to breathe, and smashes his head between the frame and the door before stepping over him and into Office 2B.

Michael lunges at her and swings blind, catching her in the stomach.

Furry staggers as Michael grabs the XTREME GRITS bucket, jamming it over her head.

She stumbles backwards, blinded.

Michael charges and spears her through a weapon shelf.

CRASH!

Weapons spill everywhere.

Lane’l crawls into the doorway and grabs the ROBODICK again.

Atomic Bat appears behind him and dropkicks him in the back of the head, then rushes Office 2B.

Michael turns with the shovel, but Atomic Bat duck and the shovel smashes into the wall.

Furry rips the bucket off her head and tackles Michael from the side.

Both crash through the mess of weapons and roll back into the hall.

Furry lands on top and starts hammering him with short punches.

Michael covers up, but Furry grabs the Dolly lunchbox from the floor and smashes it into his face.

CLANG!

Again.

CLANG!

And again.

CLANG!

Michael goes limp as blood pools under his mask.

Furry throws the crumpled lunchbox aside and hooks the leg.

ONE!

TWO!!

Lane’l dives in and smashes the ROBODICK across Furry’s back.

Furry rolls off Michael, snatches it away, and returns the favor.

THWAP!

Lane’l drops.

Atomic Bat charges from Office 2B with the shovel.

Michael ducks.

CLANG!

Furry takes it across the head.

Lane’l crawls over her and hooks the leg.

ONE!

TWO!!

THRE—

Furry kicks out!

The Imposters drag Furry back toward the gym.

Atomic Bat comes flying in, knocking Lane’l into the lockers and Michael over the weight bench.

She climbs the lockers and leaps, but Michael rolls away.

Atomic Bat crashes stomach-first across the bench.

Lane’l grabs the heavy bag chain and loops it around Furry.

Bad idea.

Furry yanks him in and drives him into the concrete.

Michael drops a medicine ball across her back before she can cover.

He raises it again.

But Furry kicks it into his face.

Michael flips over the bench.

Lane’l finds the chair.

Atomic Bat finds Lane’l.

She charges.

Lane’l ducks.

CRACK!

Atomic Bat’s knee drives the chair into Furry’s face.

Furry drops against the heavy bag.

Michael grabs the chain.

Lane’l catches on and helps him wrap it around Furry and the bag.

TODD: "They’re chaining Miss Furry to the heavy bag!"

BAMA T: "That cat's on a tight leash, baby!"

Furry fights against the chain, but she's stuck.

Atomic Bat gets back to her feet.

Michael rushes her with a forearm and scoops her onto his shoulders.

Lane’l climbs onto the weight bench.

Atomic Bat hammers Michael with punches, but Lane’l leaps and catches her with a flying neckbreaker through the weight bench.

CRAAAAAASH!

Lane’l hooks both legs.

Michael throws himself across Atomic Bat’s shoulders.

ONE!

TWO!!

THREE!!!

DING! DING! DING!

TODD: "I can't believe it! The Imposters ARE for real!"

BAMA T: "Give those boys their damn Oscars, baby!"

WINNERS: LANE’L PENNYFARTHING & MICHAEL GRAVES

TODD: Ladies and gentlemen, what a main event we have tonight! XWF Revolution Champion Summer Page taking on her former friend Marisol Vilaró! If Marisol wins tonight, she'll challenge for that very championship at Bad Medicine!

BAMA: And she oughta win, Todd! Marisol built herself into an empire while Summer was ridin' around on daddy's credit card!

…

The synthesized beat of Shake it Off By Taylor Swift begins to play over the public address system, as the opening lyrics soon begin, as the fans boo and flashes going off, people are waiting for the arrival of the Fitness Queen herself.

I stay out too late
Got nothing in my brain
That's what people say, mm-mm
That's what people say, mm-mm

As a spotlight is on the entrance ramp and the lights dim, first stepping out is none other than the legendary Snarktopus Nessa Wall, who smiles brightly before trash talking the fans as she smiles, before ordering a couple of stage hands to come out they each have a mirror in hand they face the entrance ramp, as soon out from the back steps La Marvillosa herself Marisol Vilaro.

I go on too many dates
But I can't make 'em stay
At least that's what people say, mm-mm
That's what people say, mm-mm

Marisol stops to admire herself in each mirror posing and showing off, what her hard work has given her and mouthing about how she’s the inspiration these out-of-shape people need. After a few moments of posing she brushes right past, giving her manager/mentor a hug before they head off with Nessa leading the way taking the time to give the fans at ringside a hard time for even trying to touch them.

But I keep cruisin'
Can't stop, won't stop movin'
It's like I got this music in my mind
Sayin' it's gonna be alright

TODD: Here she is, Marisol Vilaro! The Queen of VilaroFit has become the Empress of VilaroMaxx!

BAMA: Miss Vilaro has been dominant since returning! Gone literally undefeated! She beat Betsy Granger! She beat that freakshot DeathWish!

TODD: And if she wins this match, she becomes the #1 contender for the Revolution Title!

BAMA: Explain that one to me, Toddrick! If Mari’s gonna earn a shot to prove she can beat the Revolution champion, first she’s gotta beat the Revolution champion? It’s a damn conspiracy against Miss Vilaro! If she beats Summer tonight, she SHOULD be the Revolution champion!

Marisol herself takes the time to pose some more showing off her muscle, and trying to sell them on the VilaroFit mission, and how they need it to improve themselves, As the devious duo soon make their way toward the ring side area Nessa soon goes up the ring steps and takes the time to bark orders at the referee, showing him exactly how lower the ropes for herself, and her client, after being lectured by the Ambitchous one, the referee complies doing it exactly as Nessa demanded enters the ring and motions for Marisol to go up the steps, as she climbs up the steps she takes each moment to keep shilling her products, which doesn’t endear her to the fans, as she soon enters the ring under the rope and soon she rudely brushes past the referee as Nessa presents her to the booing fans as she raises her arms high in the air soaking in the boos, and catcalls.

'Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play
And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate
Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off (hoo-hoo-hoo)
Heartbreakers gonna break, break, break, break, break
And the fakers gonna fake, fake, fake, fake, fake
Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off (hoo-hoo-hoo)

Marisol then does a series of poses once again before turning around and gracing the other side of the area raising her arms high in the air and then doing a similar series of poses showing off her physique and how in shape she is. While Nessa claps her client before they head into their corner, and Nessa is getting Marisol psyched and going over the game plan…

MARISOL VILARO
- vs -
SUMMER PAGE ©

NUMBER 1 CONTENDER'S MATCH!

If Marisol defeats the champion in this singles match, they earn a shot at the Revolution Championship at Bad Medicine!

With sudden determination, Summer steps forward and offers a collar-and-elbow tie-up.

Marisol's eyes narrow in surprise.

TODD: Respect from Summer Page!

BAMA: Respect? That's disrespectful! Mari don't want respect. She wants worship!

Marisol surges forward accepting the tie-up.

Both women struggle for leverage.

Summer's face twists with effort as she drives forward, using superior positioning to force Marisol backward toward the ropes.

Marisol's expression changes instantly. The smugness disappears. A flash of irritation crosses her face.

The referee calls for a break.

Summer immediately releases.

Marisol doesn't.

Her nostrils flare.

With petty annoyance bubbling beneath the surface…

**SMACK!**

Mari snaps a sharp slap across Summer's face.

The arena gasps.

TODD: Oh shit.

BAMA: Hell yeah, Toddrick! JERRY! JERRY! JERRY!

Summer freezes.

Her head slowly turns back toward Marisol.

The champion's expression isn't anger.

It's disappointment.

TODD: Oh my! I think Mari wanted Summer to sink down to her rage and anger… but Summer’s just… unimpressed!

BAMA: How dare she!

Marisol seethes, furious at Summer’s composure…

Without hesitation Mari’s lunges forward.

Summer's disappointment transforms into survival instinct.

She ducks.

Marisol stumbles past.

Summer quickly hooks her waist and launches her with a beautiful Snap German Suplex.

**THUD!**

Marisol rolls across the canvas.

TODD: Beautiful technique by the champion!

BAMA: Pssh! She got lucky!

TODD: I don’t think you can luck yourself into a suplex that pretty to watch!

Marisol immediately scrambles to her feet.

Embarrassment flashes across her face.

Not pain.

Embarrassment.

The crowd is cheering.

SUMMER! SUMMER! SUMMER!

Marisol visibly hates every second of it.

Her upper lip curls.

She charges.

Summer notices the recklessness instantly.

Calm confidence settles over her features.

She sidesteps.

Marisol hits the turnbuckles.

Summer immediately follows with a High Knee to the jaw.

**CRACK!**

Marisol drops to one knee.

Summer grabs Marisol's arm and whips her across the ring.

Marisol's eyes widen.

She thrashes to try and create space, catching Summer with an elbow to the gut!

Summer doubles over, gritting her teeth in pain…

Marisol grins with a relief and haughtiness, eager to follow up this opening!

She bounces off the ropes…

LARIAT!

…But Summe ducks! And spins Vilaro with a Tilt-A-Whirl into a Russian Leg Sweep.

**THUMP!**

TODD: What a maneuver!

Cover.

ONE!

TW—

Kickout.

Marisol immediately rolls away. Then under the bottom rope and outside the ring!

TODD: Summer is one step ahead right now. She looks cool and confident as champion!

BAMA: That's because Mari's wrestlin' emotional. She needs to quit thinkin' about proving she’s better than Summer and start thinkin' about beating her!

Outside the ring, Marisol kneels beside the apron.

Her chest rises and falls rapidly.

The official begins counting.

The crowd chants.

Summer remains inside.

Watching.

Waiting.

Marisol notices.

And suddenly begins laughing.

The laughter is forced.

Performative.

Designed for cameras.

She slowly stands and brushes imaginary dust from her designer gear.

The crowd boos.

The official is up to five… but Summer’s impatient with this! She rolls under the bottom rope and starts heading Mari’s way!

BAMA: Summer’s headed outside the ring! This is exactly what Marisol wanted!

TODD: Summer doesn’t wanna win this by countout! She said in her promo she wants Mari to stop buzzing around her and start bothering someone else!

Marisol's grin becomes genuine.

As Summer approaches, seeking another lock-up, Marisol suddenly drives a knee into her abdomen.

**OOF!**

BAMA: THERE YOU GO! VilaroMAXIMUM DAMAGE!

Marisol immediately follows with a vicious Swinging Neckbreaker onto the floor.

**THUD!**

Summer crashes hard.

The crowd groans.

Marisol rises.

Her face glows with satisfaction.

She throws both arms outward and basks in the boos.

TODD: Vicious attack by Marisol!

BAMA: You call it vicious, I call it stragetic Todd! You don't become CEO by playin' fair!

Marisol rolls Summer back inside.

The challenger slides in behind her.

She stalks toward the recovering champion.

Summer struggles to rise.

One knee.

Then another.

Marisol's smile slowly spreads.

BAMA: The predator senses weakness. And she’s ready to bite into her prey!

As Summer reaches her feet, Marisol explodes forward and drills her with a running Enzugiri.

**CRACK!**

Summer collapses sideways into the ropes.

The champion blinks repeatedly.

Trying to clear the cobwebs.

Marisol sees vulnerability.

And vulnerability is her favorite thing.

A cruel grin stretches across her face.

She grabs Summer by the chin.

Forcing eye contact.

Mocking her.

Talking directly into her face.

BAMA: Darn stupid microphones… we can’t hear the words Mari is saying to Summer…

TODD: But we can see Summer’s reaction! And whatever Mar is saying to Summer… it’s causing a visible shift in Summer Page!

Summer's eyes narrow.

The champion's breathing steadies.

Marisol notices immediately.

She goes to tighten her grip, securing Summer into a chinlock!

But Summer reacts with a lightning-fast snapmare, driving Mari up and over her shoulder and onto her ass!

TODD: What a counter by Summer Page!

The crowd rises as both women stand.

Summer's eyes remain locked on Marisol.

Marisol's eyes remain locked on Summer.

Neither woman blinks.

Neither woman yields.

Then both charge.

TODD: Here we go!

Marisol's face twists with urgency. The confidence she'd carried into the opening minutes is beginning to crack, and she knows it. Desperate to reassert control, she swings wildly for Summer's head.

Summer sees it coming.

A look of calm recognition flashes across her face.

She ducks underneath.

Marisol stumbles past.

Summer immediately catches her around the waist and plants her with a Snap Suplex.

**THUD!**

The crowd erupts.

Marisol rolls onto her stomach.

Her teeth grit.

Her hands claw against the canvas.

BAMA: C’mon Mari! That didn’t hurt!

TODD: I think it did, Bama! Not just Mari’s body, but her pride! She’s getting outwrestled!

Summer rises smoothly.

Marisol gets to her feet.

Summer immediately blasts her with a Chick Kick.

**SMACK!**

Marisol spins sideways.

Summer hooks her arm.

The champion's expression becomes focused and clinical.

She spins through.

**SNAP DDT!**

Marisol bounces off the mat.

Cover.

ONE!

TWO!

Marisol kicks out.

TODD: Another near fall!

BAMA: Summer better finish this thing before Mari gets creative!

Marisol immediately retreats toward a corner.

Her breathing becomes sharper.

More frantic.

Summer notices.

The champion slowly stalks forward.

As Summer closes in, Marisol's face brightens with sudden inspiration.

She explodes forward.

Summer braces.

Marisol leaps.

**VILARÓ EXPERIENCE!** (Handspring elbow!)

…

NO! Summer sidesteps.

Marisol crashes chest-first into the turnbuckles.

The crowd roars.

Summer immediately grabs her.

**ANOTHER GERMAN SUPLEX!**

Marisol folds onto the canvas.

The challenger grabs the back of her neck.

TODD: Summer has completely turned this match around!

BAMA: But Mari's got that look, Todd.

TODD: What look?

BAMA: The look she gets right before she takes things to the VilaroMAXX.

Marisol slowly rises.

Her jaw clenched.

Her eyes narrowing.

Summer advances.

Marisol immediately grabs a wrist and yanks Summer into a vicious Enzugiri.

**CRACK!**

Summer staggers backward.

Marisol's face lights up.

Finally.

An opening.

She immediately grabs Summer's arm and twists into a Spinning Wrist Lock.

Summer winces.

Marisol transitions smoothly.

Cross Armbreaker.

Summer cries out.

TODD: Submission attempt!

BAMA: BREAK HER ARM, MARI!

Marisol pulls back with everything she has.

The frustration.

The jealousy.

The resentment.

Every emotion pours into the hold.

Summer's face tightens.

Pain shoots through her shoulder.

But beneath the pain is determination.

With a scream, Summer begins crawling.

Dragging herself.

Inching toward the ropes.

Marisol's eyes widen.

Disbelief.

Then anger.

She digs her heels into the mat, trying to stop Summer from reaching the ropes…

Summer’s hand shakes…

Is she about to give out?

…

NO! Summer reaches the bottom rope!

The crowd erupts!

TODD: She makes it! Summer makes it!

The referee orders the break.

Marisol refuses.

The count begins.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

Marisol finally releases.

The crowd rains down boos.

Marisol screams back at them.

Summer slowly rises using the ropes.

Marisol charges.

Summer sidesteps.

Marisol hits the ropes.

Summer catches her on the rebound.

**SPOTLIGHT!**

The modified neckbreaker plants Marisol!

The crowd explodes.

TODD: SPOTLIGHT! Summer hit the Spotlight! That’s gotta be it!

BAMA: NO! NOOOOOOOO!

Summer hooks the leg.

ONE!

TWO!

THR—

Marisol rolls onto her back! Breaking the count!

TODD: Marisol Vilaro survives!

BAMA: …phew… Knew it wasn’t over yet!

Mari lies on the mat, Chest heaving. Eyes staring at the lights.

The champion rises.

The crowd is screaming, sensing the end!

Summer pulls Vilaro upward.

She hooks Mari into a front facelock.

Setting up for—

**PURE PERFECTION!** (PerfectPlex)

…

NO! In mid-air! Marisol suddenly begins flailing and gets back to the mat!

Summer maintains control of the grip, trying to latch tighter for better control!

But Mari sidechecks… throwing her body sideways.

The official is caught completely off guard!

**WHAM!**

The referee stumbles, bouncing into the ropes, then directly into Summer!

Both collide awkwardly.

Summer loses her grip.

The crowd groans.

TODD: Wait a minute!

BAMA: ACCIDENT! PURE ACCIDENT!

TODD: Oh come on!

The referee tumbles onto the mat.

Disoriented.

Summer rises off the mat, immediately turning toward Marisol.

Summer reaches forward for a collar-and-elbow tie-up.

Marisol reaches forward too.

Then—

**RAKE!**

Her fingernails claw directly across Summer's eyes.

**BOOOOOOOOOO!**

Summer screams and grabs her face.

The crowd erupts with outrage.

TODD: NO!

BAMA: THAT'S VETERAN INSTINCT!

TODD: SHE RAKED HER EYES!

BAMA: FAKE NEWS!

Blind and stumbling, Summer reaches forward helplessly.

Marisol immediately drops low.

Her face becomes a mask of greedy determination.

She hooks Summer's legs.

Then grabs a fistful of tights.

A huge fistful.

And yanks.

TODD: Not like this!

The referee turns around! And starts the count!

ONE!

Marisol bridges.

TWO!

Summer kicks!

…

THREE!

**DING DING DING!**

Winner and #1 Contender to the Revolution Title: Marisol Vilaro

The arena explodes into boos.

Marisol immediately releases and rolls from the ring.

The second the bell sounds, her face transforms.

A triumphant smile.

Arms raised.

BAMA: Mission accomplished! Unlike Summer Page, Mari EARNED her shot at the Revolution Title!

TODD: You've got to be kidding me!

BAMA: A win is a win, Todd!

TODD: Marisol Vilaró stole it!

BAMA: Cry more.

Inside the ring, Summer remains on her knees.

Outside the ring, Marisol begins backing up the ramp.

A smug smile stretching across her face.

She points directly at the Revolution Championship resting beside the timekeeper's area.

Then points at herself.

The shot cuts to the ring, where a lone example of one of Samael Dyson’s Insignificants is waiting with a mic in hand. Samael stands to his side, flanked by a few more Insignificants and his menacing Ubermensch!

Insignificant: Ladies and gentlemen, it is my esteemed pleasure to introduce, the man who is one of the LONGEST reigning Xtreme champions OF ALL TIME, the man who is about to win a 24/7 briefcase, my master….SAMAEL DYSON!

The crowd boos uproariously, but the Insignificant gestures to Samael dramatically (and obliviously). Samael looks pleasant as always.

Samael: I want that TRILLIONAIRE TURD ELON MUSK out here right now!

Elon appears on the rampway, looking confident as ever and he walks to the ring without much rush. Once he gets in the ring, he turns to Samael with a smirk.

Elon: Ladies and gentlemen, I am more than pleased… delighted even! To recognize our X-Ttreme champion everyone, give it up for….

Samael: Shut up! Don’t you go trying to glad handle me now. You’ve been ignoring my calls for the last two weeks. But now that I finally have your attention, we have a lot to discuss when it comes to my final match for the 24/7 briefcase.

Elon: Oh, how right you are.

Samael: Namely, I want to know what safety measures will be in place for the match. I’ve got a lot of heat at my back, Musk. Kristoffer Arroyo wants me dead, Lux wants me dead, my own FATHER wants me dead. Hell, Dolly Waters probably wants me dead too, let’s throw her in for good measure. What are we going to do to ensure my safety on Anarchy?

Elon strokes his chin thoughtfully.

Elon: Mister Dyson, let me assure you. I may have previously treated the riff-raff and the… commonfolk around this enterprise somewhat callously. But, I know an asset when I see an asset. And when I recognize an asset? I protect that asset.

Elon snaps his fingers.

Rolling down the ramp…

TODD: It’s… It’s Tommy Gunn and the XWF Security Team! Dressed in suits looking like the Secret Service!

BAMA: Hot dang, something about a bunch of guys in black suits… Lookin’ like gol’ darn Reservoir Dogs.

TODD: This crew used to be the Kingsguard! The Former Anarchy Tag-Team champions! What are they even doing here?!?

Tommy Gunn and a half-dozen almost-featureless men in suits and sunglasses roll down the ring.

Dyson looks on as the Insignificants regard them with a little suspicion and uncertainty, chittering amongst themselves.

Gunn steps through the ropes as his security team slides under the ropes under him. Gunn stops before Musk. Musk nods.

Gunn walks up to Dyson. The Ubermensch looks a little unnerved but Samael waves him off to put him at ease.

…

Gunn stands beside Dyson, before pressing his earpiece.

”Package is secure.”

The guards move around Dyson.

TODD: Oh my God! Elon Musk just gave Samael Dyson his own security detail!

Elon grins, clapping… seemingly for his own act.

Elon: These men will ensure the… preservation of what I perceive to be a potentially valuable asset.

Samael looks around at Gunn and his men, working his jaw before returning his attention to Musk.

Samael: It’s a start. But suffice it to say all of my people….

Samael gestures at the Ubermensch and his Insignificants.

Samael:.....will be on hand as well. And you know, I’m glad to see you taking me seriously, Elon. There seems to be a recurring issue at this company with people not taking me seriously, as if I’m not the longest reigning Universal Champion in YEARS.

Elon takes a step closer, closing the distance between himself and Dyson.

Elon:As I said, you DO have value. But, I’ll make one thing very clear, Mister Dyson. The value of this asset? Is one based on opportunity. On proximity to achieving something that no one has done in almost two years.

…

Elon: Don’t fuck it up.

Elon turns as if to leave, when Samael reaches out and puts a hand on Elon’s shoulder. Tommy Gunn looks to Elon, clearly not forgetting who signs his checks. But Musk just nods demurely, allaying Gunn’s concerns. Elon turns back around to consider Dyson again.

Samael: We’re not done. There’s one more thing I need to know. The opponent. Who is it?

The fans actually pop in anticipation of the potential announcement. Elon casts a glance at the fans, perhaps savoring the attention. He brings the mic up to his lips slowly….Samael looks at him intently. The tension builds!

Elon looks around, genuinely amused by how much attention is hanging on his word right now…

Elon: Your opponent is…

…

Elon: A former Universal champion!

The crowd starts to rumble with anticipation!

TODD: Who is it?!? Who could it be?!?

Elon: A former WARGAMES SURVIVOR!

BAMA: Oh damn!

Elon: Your opponent…

…

Elon: Is…

…

……

……….

TODD: GET ON WITH IT!

Elon: DICKIE! WATSOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!

The fans pop huge! And at first Samael’s expression is inscrutable. But then, a slow wicked smile forms on his lips, followed soon after by a peal of derisive laughter. Elon cants his head at Samael, himself a little confused by the reaction. He nods at Samael and takes his leave from the ring as the XTreme champion whispers something to the Ubermensch.

BAMA: Dickie Watson is one helluva challenge for the champ to overcome!

TODD: I’ll say, which makes it all the more confounding that Samael seemed almost…..pleased….by the selection? Whatever the case this is sure to be one of the biggest matches in Anarchy history in just two weeks!

BAMA: It’s can’t miss TV to say the least, folks!

Thanks to our wonderful match writers

PETER PRINCIPAL
MICHEAL GRAVES
'HUGE' DICK LICHTER

& our amazing segment writers

CENTURION
SAMAEL DYSON

& to everyone who RPed!

]]>

XWF Anarchy
[Image: vuE1ZV0.png]

06 - 18 - 2026

LIVE FROM LITTLE CAESARS ARENA!

DETROIT, MICHIGAN

MR. OZ
- vs -
JAY FETU

X-TREME RULEZ MATCH!

MARISOL VILARO
- vs -
SUMMER PAGE ©

NUMBER 1 CONTENDER'S MATCH!

If Marisol defeats the champion in this singles match, they earn a shot at the Revolution Championship at Bad Medicine!

MR. OZ
- vs -
JAY FETU

X-TREME RULEZ MATCH!

HIGHLIGHT REEL

Winner: Mister Oz

HIGHLIGHT REEL

El Landerson has been eliminated.
Brawliepop Barbie has been eliminated.

WINNER BY DOUBLE ELIMINATION: DOM DURANGO!

Location: Graves Boneyard

“I WANNA ROCK!”

DING! DING! DING!

CRACK!

BANG!

CLANG!

BANG!

THUD!

CRACK!

ONE!

TWO!!

CRASH!

ONE!

TWO!!

CRASH!

KABOOM!

THE ROBODICK!

THWAP!

The ROBODICK smacks Furry across the side of the head, causing her to spin sideways and crash into a shelf full of old match junk.

CLATTER!

CLANG!

Michael’s face smacks into the Dolly poster hard enough to draw blood.

He turns, horrified, because now...

Dolly's bleeding.

"You hurt her!"

Atomic Bat answers with a running dropkick that sends Michael backward into the cardboard standee and over the desk.

CRASH!

BANG!

THWAP!

CLANG!

CRASH!

CLANG!

CRASH!

CLANG!

Again.

CLANG!

And again.

CLANG!

Michael goes limp as blood pools under his mask.

Furry throws the crumpled lunchbox aside and hooks the leg.

ONE!

TWO!!

Lane’l dives in and smashes the ROBODICK across Furry’s back.

Furry rolls off Michael, snatches it away, and returns the favor.

THWAP!

Lane’l drops.

Atomic Bat charges from Office 2B with the shovel.

Michael ducks.

CLANG!

Furry takes it across the head.

Lane’l crawls over her and hooks the leg.

ONE!

TWO!!

THRE—

CRACK!

CRAAAAAASH!

Lane’l hooks both legs.

Michael throws himself across Atomic Bat’s shoulders.

ONE!

TWO!!

THREE!!!

DING! DING! DING!

TODD: "I can't believe it! The Imposters ARE for real!"

BAMA T: "Give those boys their damn Oscars, baby!"

WINNERS: LANE’L PENNYFARTHING & MICHAEL GRAVES

MARISOL VILARO
- vs -
SUMMER PAGE ©

NUMBER 1 CONTENDER'S MATCH!

If Marisol defeats the champion in this singles match, they earn a shot at the Revolution Championship at Bad Medicine!

Winner and #1 Contender to the Revolution Title: Marisol Vilaro

Thanks to our wonderful match writers

PETER PRINCIPAL
MICHEAL GRAVES
'HUGE' DICK LICHTER

& our amazing segment writers

CENTURION
SAMAEL DYSON

& to everyone who RPed!

]]> <![CDATA[ANARCHY - 05/16/2026]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=50097 Sat, 16 May 2026 20:34:25 -0700 "The Bashmaster" Barry Masterson]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=50097

XWF Anarchy
[Image: vuE1ZV0.png]

05 - 14 - 2026

LIVE FROM KEZAR PAVILION!

SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA

JOHN BLADE, LATOYA HIXX & DEENA HIXX
- vs -
“SLICK” RICK JAMES

HANDICAP TAG MATCH

During the last episode of Anarchy, the former Evel Knievel enthusiast turned professional wrestler -Rick James- told the world that he wanted to face any champion with their title on the line or not. That is a level of gusto and bravery that I admire, and that may only be found in a man of Rick’s unique attributes.

If it’s a champion he wants, then it’s CHAMPIONS he’ll get!

Who better than the champions of unyielding persistence, hustle, loyalty and fraternal twindom Mr. John Blade and the sisters of the Hixx Foundation, Deena and Latoya.

Consider this Rick James’ trial by fire… his jumping of Snake River…

If he can win, perhaps the Fountains of Caesars Palace awaits

10 Minute Time Limit.

BETSY GRANGER & GCC's DOM DURANGO™
- vs -
MARISOL VILARO & SIR LIONEL PENNYFATHERING

THE HELPING HANDS MIXED TAG BASHTACULAR

Ah, yes!

Two of the most talented competitors - not just on Anarchy- but in all of XWF, are being tasked to MAKE A WISH this week.

Our beloved Revolution Champion Betsy Granger will be teaming with Dom Durango from the Global Culinary Combat league, whilst the ever-talented Marisol Vilaro will be teaming up with Anarchy’s favorite trouper, Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing in a match of epic proportions!

The rules are quite simple. This is an “old school” PFFFT mixed tag match.

Meaning the women will only wrestle the women, and the men will wrestle only the men.

Any breakage of that rule will result in an immediate disqualification!

….that is of course… unless I might be so convinced otherwise by the… performance of a lifetime.

ANYWHO!

If Betsy is able to drag Dom across the finish line, he will be named the head-chef/caterer of all XWF and awarded 250,000 dollars (This is the amount they always give away in these bloody contests) along with exclusive access to Michael Graves’ food.

If Marisol can drag Sir Lionel Pennyfathering to a victory? He will be cast in an exclusive Hol-lee-wood role depicting none other than the great XWF benefactor Vincent Lane in: “Wrestling Without Shadows: This Is All Hella Real!” Worth 250,000 dollars in compensation (see? I told you so)

15 Minute Time Limit.

DICKIE WATSON
- vs -
JENNY MYST

The top contender for the Anarchy Title versus the top contender on pretty much any wrestling program? It can’t get much better than that, can it?

Oh. I know what you’re thinking.

“But Bashy, where’s the ludicrous stipulation that might end up permanently injuring one of these tremendous performers?”

Well, sirs and madames.

You’re not getting that!

I know nowadays we like to book blood and guts and cu for no reason at all in the middle of the week. But allow me to do the XWF’s job for them and keep their talent safe for christ sakes!

I do believe that fans will enjoy a good old fashioned wrestling BASH as much as some bookers believe they enjoy the Tijuana Rodeo.

20 Minute Time Limit.

MR. OZ

- vs -

SUMMER PAGE

-#2 Contender Grudge Match-
On the last episode of Anarchy, Summer Page cost Mr. Oz a chance at becoming the top contender for the Revolution Championship.

This was of course after Oz slammed her through a table. So her reaction was most likely warranted.

Anyway!

The winner of this match will be ADDED to the Revolution Championship match between Granger and Kline, thus making it a…. THREE WAY BASH!

…I think that’s quite revolutionary. Don't you?

25 Minute Time Limit

THE ROLLERWHORES © w/ Samael Dyson
- vs -
KRISTOFFER “VAMP” ARROYO & MICHAEL GRAVES

This one is for the Anarchy Tag Team Championships -The very championships I created (You’re quite welcome)- Hmmm.. I must say, while these challengers are spectacular, THIS Graves doesn’t really remind me of THE Graves that I loved ever so deeply. But he still seems great nonetheless. Kristoffer? Ohhh, I really do like this man. He’s quite BITING.

I don’t know much about the Rollerwhores, or this Sam Dyson character… only that I don’t trust them.

Anyway
Standard match
Clean Tags Only
One Fall
30 Minute Time Limit

May the best “people” win!

The broadcast of XWF Anarchy opens up backstage at the historic Kezar Pavillion.

We can hear the fans out in the stadium reacting to the broadcast going live on the XTron.

As the camera pans, it halts on a particular shot.

Of a particular star.

Who gets a particularly raucous ovation!

It’s Dickie Watson.

TODD: Welcome to XWF Anarchy, folks! And yes -your eyes do not deceive you- the former Universal Champion Dickie Watson is in the house tonight!

BAMA T: Oh baby. Big Dickie got himself a big time matchup tonight, on this big time edition of Anarchy with Big Barry Masterson back in the hizzy- - -

TODD: - - -wait, Bama… who is Dickie talking to?

Dickie is facing down a corridor that the camera can’t get a shot of…

An unusually radiant expression on his face, as his lips move in an inaudible conversation with…

The crowd roars even louder now as-

TODD: DOLLY WATERS!

-Walks into the frame.

BAMA T: Another former Universal Champion, and The President of the N-C-A-C Bay-beee! The best labor union in the world!

A set smile on her face as she steps next to Dickie.

The two of them turn together and start walking toward the camera shot.

So…

…It’s a yes?

Dickie stops in his tracks.

Another unusual, but confident smile curls in the corner of his mouth

For The Union?

For Dolly Waters?

He holds out his hand,

It’s a hell yes.

Dolly returns the smile, and extends her hand to grasp his.

The two of them exchanging a firm handshake…

…when an even firmer hand lands on Dolly’s shoulder…
The camera is rumbling now as the stadium fully erupts

”Madame President?”

Dolly turns to face The CURRENT Universal Champion… The Peasant KING of The XWF…

Scoops McGee

Yer’ majesty…

”My YES ballot is in the box too, boah.”

A confident grin sliding across her lips as she relives her hand from Dickie’s and hands it over to Scoops.

TODD: Bama -as you know- it was just weeks ago when Dolly reclaimed The Union and publicly announced her first order of business being a major vote regarding the future of a major star.

BAMA T: She made it clear to the world, baby. This union is for ALL the workers of professional wrestling. And if you cause harm to one of us, you’ve gotta’ answer to all of us.

And that scoundrel Samael Dyson who murdered his mother -the XWF great- Madison Dyson?

Well, it looks like he’s gonna’ be getting his answer tonight!

TODD: Folks, our first match tonight is… well, it’s certainly not a traditional match-up!

BAMA: Whatcha mean, Toddrick, is Rick James pissed off somebody and now he’s been booked into a three-on-one beatdown!

[Image: jade-cargill-wwe-backlash-2024-v0-a2gyOH...55dd69bd0c]

[Image: jade-cargill-wwe-smackdown-may-10-2024-v...14553f65a4]

[Image: jade-cargill-v0-bDdsZzdodXdhYzFkMSOXnGmf...e8b3f56aa1]

TODD: …Whole lotta time spent on her entering…

BAMA: Gotta build that suspense, Toddy baby! Wait until the crowds begging for her… then deliver![/white]

[Image: images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSiF23o0pxrVF7VSQreWpk...E&usqp=CAU]

The lights went dark!

The sound of thunder Ker-ACKS throughout the arena!

Over the PA system, a woman laughs…

A Storm…

Is…

COMING

Suddenly, the lights turned blue! Rain falls from the rafters above as Latoya Hixx walks out at the top of the ramp, flexing her muscles!

[blue]TODD: Latoya Hixx! Coming fresh off scoring the biggest win in her young career just a few nights ago… Scoring a major upset over a champion of the wrestling world, Mark ‘The Dragon’ Cross!

BAMA: She didn’t pin Cross to get the win… actually, she pinned her fellow Chain Gang member, John Blade!

TODD: But the W in the win column says Latoya Hixx, Bama! And she’s got not only John in her corner again, but her twin sister, Deena! Can she keep the win streak? Can The Storm roll through tonight![/white]

The lights return to their default settings as Hixx walks straight down the aisle and she slaps a few hands of wrestling fans!

Hixx climbs up the steel steps, then enters the ring…

The lights dim and she flexes her muscles one final time!

…

The Time is now hit's as he walks out on stage. “The Surgeon of Thug” John Blade 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 platform!

[blue]TODD: John Blade! The Surgeon of Thug! He and Hixx both looked absolutely dominant ambushing Mark ‘The Dragon’ Cross!

BAMA: Cross got crossed up by Hixx and Blade! When he tried to make a comeback, Blade kicked Hixx into him… which setup that Death Valley Driver to the outside! But, while Blade wanted to continue the two-on-one beatdown, Hixx saw her chance, caught Blade with her patent bicycle kick, and scored the win!

TODD: Blade took his eye off the ball last Warfare, Bama! But tonight he and Latoya are on the same side! They either win together or they lose together! And if their opponent has his way, it’s going to be a loss! Can the Surgeon of the Thug operate his way to a win tonight?[/white]

John 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![/align]

…

Let's light it up hits, and Deena Hixx comes out from behind the curtains and walks out on stage and skips on down the aisle and skips around the ring.

[blue]BAMA: Deena Hixx is a maniac, Toddrick! An absolute lunatic! She’s less predictable than the lottery!

TODD: Yes! She’s definitely bringing the potential for something explosive! Will her team use that explosiveness as a launch to propel them to victory! Or will their dreams of victory simply be blown to smithereens?

Deena slides into the ring and leans on the ropes with her legs crossed and waits for her Opponent to arrive.

…

The lights dim slightly as the opening beat drops. Ric James steps out onto the stage slow and composed, taking a second to look around like he already owns the moment. No rushing—everything is controlled.

As the beat kicks in, he starts walking down the ramp with a confident bounce, talking to the crowd, pointing, reacting—feeding off whatever energy they give him.

TODD: And there he is! The man they call Slick Ric! Ric James! He was robbed of a win in his debut match when he and Marisol Vilaro both secured a pin… and the official just counted Mari’s pin faster!

BAMA: And he’s been chirping ever since about how he wants to take on a champ… even though he still hasn’t even won a match yet!

TODD: Ric’s a daredevil, Bama! He’s not one to calculate risk, he’s here to defy the odds AND death itself!

BAMA: Well, I can’t imagine anyone stepping into the ring against Deena, Latoya and John Blade unless they have a death wish!

Halfway down, he pauses, smirks, and nods like he knows he’s the main attraction.

At ringside, he takes the steps, wipes his feet clean, then steps into the ring smoothly. Once inside, he bounces lightly, then hits a confident pose in the center—soaking it all in before getting ready.

…

Ric leaned back into his corner, rolling his shoulders loose while staring across at John Blade, Latoya Hixx, and Deena Hixx.

Latoya stood tall and composed, eyes narrowed with focused intensity.

John bounced in place like a caged heavyweight boxer.

Deena grinned wide, twitching with chaotic excitement.

Ric slowly pointed at all three of them…

…then held up one finger.

One.

Ding Ding!

The crowd roared.

And that little act immediately irritated John Blade.

JOHN BLADE, LATOYA HIXX & DEENA HIXX
- vs -
“SLICK” RICK JAMES
HANDICAP TAG MATCH
10 Minute Time Limit

Blade stormed through the ropes first.

John charged—

—and Ric exploded forward first with a FLASH KICK right to the jaw!

TODD: GOOD LORD!

The superkick CRACKED against John’s face so hard spit flew into the air as Blade stumbled backward into the ropes.

John gets belted backwards, toppling through the ropes!

Ric spun toward Latoya—

DROPKICK!

Latoya got blasted off the apron before she could enter!

TODD: It looks like Ric James doesn’t care who the legal man, woman, or child is! He’s just handing out ass-whoopin’!

Deena springboarded in wildly—

Ric caught her out of the air with a SNAP POWERSLAM!

The crowd erupted.

Ric kipped up immediately and spread his arms wide like a performer taking applause on opening night.

That was his mistake.

John Blade slide back under the bottom rope, his expression twisted with embarrassment and anger.

Ric turned—

RUNNING SHOULDER BLOCK.

Ric got turned inside out.

The entire pace changed instantly.

John mounted him and started throwing heavy forearms down into his face!

TODD: A little too much show-boating there for Blade’s taste! And now Ric James is taking some punishment!

Ric covered up as Blade dragged him up and hurled him violently into the corner.

TAG TO LATOYA.

Latoya entered with purpose.

No theatrics.

No wasted motion.

Just violence.

Corner shoulder thrust.

Another.

Another.

Ric’s body folded inward under the pressure as Latoya drove into his ribs like a battering ram.

She grabbed him by the wrist—

BELLY-TO-BELLY SUPLEX ACROSS THE RING.

Ric crashed hard and rolled toward the ropes clutching his spine.

Latoya flexed over him confidently while the crowd booed.

TODD: Latoya Hixx has been riding momentum ever since that massive victory over Mark Cross!

BAMA: Latoya has been demanding title shots ever since her debut… But I will say, a victory tonight would certainly be an argument to revisit some title shot…

TODD: Except the Revolution, of course! None of the Chain Gang can challenge for it as long as Betsy holds the belt, after Betsy won that lumberjack match against John Blade!

Latoya pulled Ric up again—

Ric suddenly fired back with a sharp forearm.

Then another.

Then another.

The crowd rallied behind him.

Ric bounced off the ropes—

Flying forearm smash!

Latoya staggered backward.

Ric fed off the reaction immediately.

You could SEE it happen.

His face lit up.

His confidence surged.

He hit the ropes again—

—and paused to dance.

The crowd cheered.

Latoya did not.

She nearly cut him in half with a SPINEBUSTER.

BAMA: THAT’S WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU START CELEBRATIN’ BEFORE YOU FINISH THE DAMN JOB!

TAG TO DEENA.

Deena stormed into the ring like a human firecracker.

Running dropkick.

Monkey flip.

Arm drag.

Another arm drag.

Ric stumbled up dazed—

WHEELBARROW BULLDOG!

Deena popped up screaming incoherently while bouncing around the ring with manic energy.

TODD: Deena Hixx, unleashing a furious barrage of offense that, I think can best be described as, your younger sibling jamming on all the buttons in a fighting game they’ve never played before!

BAMA: But it’s working right now, Toddrick!

Ric tried standing in the corner—

Deena charged full speed—

Ric sidestepped.

Deena SPLASHED chest-first into the turnbuckles.

Ric grabbed her from behind—

GERMAN SUPLEX.

The crowd gasped at the impact.

Ric held the bridge.

ONE—

John Blade stomped him in the face to break it.

BOOOOOOOO!

The official tries to usher John back to the outside…

But instead, Latoya simply comes through the ropes and all three begin swarming James!

TODD: We saw this on Warfare! The Chain Gang looking to stomp Ric James into a blood splatter!

John grabbed Ric by the arms while Deena hammered punches into his ribs.

Latoya entered and delivered brutal axe-handle strikes across his back.

Ric was getting dismantled.

The trio whipped him into the ropes—

DOUBLE CLOTHESLINE attempt—

Ric ducked.

Rebound—

DOUBLE FLYING CLOTHESLINE FROM RIC!

The arena exploded.

All three opponents dropped.

Ric staggered upright breathing heavily.

Sweat dripping.

Chest heaving.

His eyes widened.

That adrenaline hit.

That performer instinct.

He climbed the turnbuckles.

TODD: Ric James is thinking big here!

Ric stood tall on the top rope, soaking in the cheers.

Pointing to himself.

Nodding.

Taking too much time.

John Blade recovered first.

John hit the ropes.

Ric lost balance—

AND GOT CROTCHED ON THE TOP TURNBUCKLE.

BAMA: AND DOWN GOES HOLLYWOOD!

Latoya shoved Ric’s legs outward from underneath, dropping him down to the mat!

The official finally gets the wherewithal to force Deena and Latoya back outside…

TODD: The referee finally instilling some order to this match… but is the damage already done?

…

John hives over the prone Ric James…

“Five Knuckle Shuffle” taunt.

The crowd booed.

John charged to the ropes, looking for his leaping punch…

But Ric kip-ups to his feet!

Ric countered with a sudden DDT!

Both men collapsed.

Latoya entered immediately and yanked Ric upward—

BEAR H-

…

NO!

Ric countered mid-lift into a CUTTER!

SCENE STEALER OUT OF NOWHERE!

Latoya rolled out of the ring unconscious.

The crowd came unglued.

Deena flew in immediately with a DIVING CROSSBODY—

Ric rolled through it, turning into an O’Connor Roll pin!

ONE!

TWO!

NO!

Deena escaped.

Ric slammed the mat in frustration.

Deena shakes off cobwebs as she scampers dazedly back to a vertical base…

In a flash, Ric pulled Deena upward.

Hollywood Ending attempt—

Deena ducked.

SHINING WIZARD!

Ric crumpled.

TODD: DEENA WIZARD! SHE GOT HIM!

ONE!

TWO!

RIC KICKED OUT!

The crowd erupted again.

Deena looked genuinely shocked.

John Blade tagged himself in aggressively.

He shoved Deena aside.

Blade hauled Ric up.

DEATH VALLEY DRI-...NO!

Ric slipped off Blade’s shoulders, landing behind him.

Blade turns around…

Into a FLASH KICK!

John stumbled.

Ric hit the ropes.

SCENE STEALER—

NO!

Latoya and Deena both simultaneously deliver kicks to Ric’s back as he hits the ropes!

Ric cradles his spine as he stumbles forward…

DEATH VALLEY DRI-

…

No! Ric slips off the back!

And somersaults over Blade’s back, securing a sunset flip!

The official drops to count!

ONE!

The Hixxes are caught off-guard!

TWO!

They dive through the ropes!

…

But not before…

THREE!

Winner: ‘Slick’ Ric James

TODD: WOW! What a victory by Slick Ric! Not many people could take out three members of the Chain Gang at once! But the Stuntman pulls it off! And he did it with style!

TODD: Up next, Bama we’ve got a contest that’s going to showcase the XWF’s desire to make the wildest dreams of the needy and downtrodden come true!

BAMA: Our partnership with the “Make A Wish Foundation” might’ve been severed once Elon’s AI Bot told him that charity was rife with fraud and waste, but that doesn’t mean that we can do our very own version of it right here on Anarchy!

TODD: And what a wish that’ll be granted here tonight for two lucky guys, in being paired with two of the most impressive talents in XWF today…

The synthesized beat of Shake it Off By Taylor Swift begins to play over the public address system, as the opening lyrics soon begin, as the fans boo and flashes going off, people are waiting for the arrival of the Fitness Queen herself.

I stay out too late
Got nothing in my brain
That's what people say, mm-mm
That's what people say, mm-mm

As a spotlight is on the entrance ramp and the lights dim, first stepping out is none other than the legendary Snarktopus Nessa Wall, who smiles brightly before trash talking the fans as she smiles, before ordering a couple of stage hands to come out they each have a mirror in hand they face the entrance ramp, as soon out from the back steps La Marvillosa herself Marisol Vilaro.

I go on too many dates
But I can't make 'em stay
At least that's what people say, mm-mm
That's what people say, mm-mm

TODD: And here she comes, Bama! The Founder of the VilaroMaxx fitness and looksmaxing regiment… The XWF Superstar, Marisol Vilaro!

BAMA: You talk about a lucky opportunity for her partner tonight, Todd.

Marisol oozes confidence, and for good reason, baby! She’s in perfect shape. She’s a bonafide savant between those ropes, and she’s as beautiful as she is bold.

The only thing unclean about her, is that she’s *filthy* rich!

Her training program has helped turn millions of schmucks across the globe from slobs into hearthrobs….

Marisol stops to admire herself in each mirror posing and showing off, what her hard work has given her and mouthing about how she’s the inspiration these out-of-shape people need. After a few moments of posing she brushes right past, giving her manager/mentor a hug before they head off with Nessa leading the way taking the time to give the fans at ringside a hard time for even trying to touch them.

But I keep cruisin'
Can't stop, won't stop movin'
It's like I got this music in my mind
Sayin' it's gonna be alright

Marisol herself takes the time to pose some more showing off her muscle, and trying to sell them on the VilaroFit mission, and how they need it to improve themselves, As the devious duo soon make their way toward the ring side area Nessa soon goes up the ring steps and takes the time to bark orders at the referee, showing him exactly how lower the ropes for herself, and her client, after being lectured by the Ambitchous one, the referee complies doing it exactly as Nessa demanded enters the ring and motions for Marisol to go up the steps, as she climbs up the steps she takes each moment to keep shilling her products, which doesn’t endear her to the fans, as she soon enters the ring under the rope and soon she rudely brushes past the referee as Nessa presents her to the booing fans as she raises her arms high in the air soaking in the boos, and catcalls.

'Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play
And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate
Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off (hoo-hoo-hoo)
Heartbreakers gonna break, break, break, break, break
And the fakers gonna fake, fake, fake, fake, fake
Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off (hoo-hoo-hoo)

TODD: …we know her partner tonight has spent the last couple of weeks working through the VilaroMaxx program. But is that long enough to see true, measurable results?

BAMA: If there’s any fitness scheme on earth that could break a sad sap like her partner out of his cocoon of mediocrity, this VilaroMaxx

Marisol then does a series of poses once again before turning around and gracing the other side of the area raising her arms high in the air and then doing a similar series of poses showing off her physique and how in shape she is. While Nessa claps her client before they head into their corner, and Nessa is getting Marisol psyched and going over the game plan as they wait for…

Perhaps her greatest success story…

I WANNA’ ROCK!

The high pitched wail of Dee Snider pierces the air as the Twisted Sister classic pumps through the PA system. As two big pyro towers shoot off on either side of the stage

The

Crowd

Loses

Their

Shit

TODD: OH MY GOODN- - -n’ooooh. Right.

Until they realize that this is not XWF CEO Vincent Lane, but rather…

"Loverboy" Vinnie Lane Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing spinning out of the entrance ramp, wearing his favorite t-shirt, a cutoff Faster Pussycat screen print, long silver tights and shining silver boots.

BAMA: Hey, man! Sir Lionel Pennyfathering… is actually VilaroMaxxing this performance!

And Bama isn’t wrong.

He struts down the aisle, strumming the air guitar and leaping into the air with a jumping split. As he hops onto the ring apron, he swings around, facing the crowd, and pumps his fist along to the music, singing along and inciting the crowd to do so as well.

TODD: I’ve got to agree, Bama. Sir Lionel has really dug his heels into this opportunity and made the most of it! And if he’s somehow able to hold on to Marisol’s coat tails tight enough to pick up a win tonight, then he’ll be cast in the role of a lifetime

BAMA: I believe, Todd! Because I believe in Mari! I believe in the power of VilaroMaxx!

“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.

“Brighter than the heavens in the skies above,
(oooh oooh)
You’ll be,
BRIGHTER!"

TODD: You want to talk about someone who believes they can make a dream come true? I’m not sure anyone in this business embodies that more than our Revolution Champion, Betsy Granger!

BAMA: Betsy is looking awfully fired up here tonight, baby! She’s taken on this seemingly impossible challenge with a big smile on her face.

TODD: Why wouldn’t she, Bama? If there’s one thing the XWF fans love and admire about Betsy Granger, it’s her unwavering positivity in the face of adversity. She never gets too low, and has a unique knack for carving out the silver lining around any cloud that's facing her.

BAMA: After a brief setback, falling just short of defeating Scoops McGee for the Universal Championship, she rallied The Exiles and helped glue that fractured team back together in a HUGE win in Warfare’s last main event.

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, smiling at the ramp way as…

GCC’s Chef Dom Durango appears on the ramp way, an unnaturally large smile stretched across his aging face.

Dawning a toque blanche, and a white chef's coat, he rolls out a table-side cooking cart and slowly raises his arms into the air.

Mamma Mia!

He brings his hands back to his lips, kissing his fingertips and stretching his arms out again

The crowd reacts with an indifferent murmur to what is meant to be quite the spectacle.

TODD: And there he is folks, the man Betsy will be tasked with trying to see his dreams become a reality…

BAMA: It’s a wonderful thing, indeedy… but we’ve all got to ask ourselves, how much of this chance is a dream come true for Chef Dom, and how much of this is about cooking up a cold dish of revenge?

TODD: It’s a great question, and one that might not be answered here-

Hello-ah, fans of da XWF-ah! Chef Dom Dorango has-ah arrived!

Midway down the ramp, Chef Dom produces a mic as the swelling romance music abruptly cuts out beneath his booming voice.

Tonight-ah… we cook!

He points dramatically toward the ring.

And what am I-ah cooking? Hm?

A beautiful Italian feast? A spicy arrabbiata-ah? A delicate risotto made-ah with love and care?

Dome shakes his head,

No, no, no…

Tonight-ah, we prepare-ah garbage!

The crowd gives a confused murmur as Betsy throws her arms out, trying to get him to hurry up.

Becasue Michael Graves? Mamma mia… this guy is-ah like a station meatball sub.

Greasy-ah. Salty-ah. Crusty-ah. Questionable-ah expiration date!

He-ah came into MY kitchen in dah Global Culinary Cabal-ah and tried-ah to disrespect Italian cuisine!

You wrestlers think-ah you can just walk into any profession!

“Oh look at me! I hit-ah da powerbomb! I wear-ah da leather jacket! I brood-ah dramatically!”

Bada bing bada boom! Everybody claps for dah shitty spooky meatball-ah!

Dom parks the dinner cart beside the apron and proudly lifts the silver cloche with a proud flare.

Beneath it sits a bubbling black sludge over a tiny blue flame.

And so tonight, in honor of Michael Graves…

I present-ah my newest signature dish…

He dips a ladle inside into the thick bubbling substance.

Gravy TarTAR

TODD: Gravy Tartare? Those are two completely different - - -

Lionel leans through the ropes, giving the “dish” a most quizzical glance, and- - -

AHHHH! You want-ah sample?!

BON APPITEIT-AH!!!

Chef Dom hurls a ladle-full of “Gravy TarTare” directly into Lionels’ face!

BAMA: BABY THAT AIN’T TARTARE THAT’S ASPHALT!!!!

Lionel immediately flops to the mat screaming in agony, clutching his eyes as smoke rises from his face.

Dom immediately slides into the ring,

THAT is-ah what happens when you OVERCOOK DA SAUCE!

The ref looks horrified.

Betsy looks utterly confused.

But with everyone somehow in position… the bewildered official signals for the bell.

BETSY GRANGER & GCC's DOM DURANGO™
- vs -
MARISOL VILARO & SIR LIONEL PENNYFATHERING

THE HELPING HANDS MIXED TAG BASHTACULAR

15 Minute Time Limit.

DING DING DING!

TODD: OH my goodness, Bama! And just like that, all of the HARD HITTING work that Lionel put in during his VilaroMaxx training might be ruined!

Chef Dom has pounced on Lionel, clawing at him like a rabid animal,

BAMA: Oh I’m sure he’s fine! Lionel is a trooper. It’s going to take a lot more than some hot tar to ruin - - -

As Lionel is rolled over, giving everyone a better look at him, Mari screams from the apron

BAMA: Oh… oof… man… ummm, it’s not that bad?

MY MASTERPIECE!

Mari hits the ring and immediately attacks Dom, kicking him in the ribs

Which brings Betsy into the match- - - cleaning Mari’s clock with a reverse roundhouse kick!

Lionel stands, disoriented, holding his face and itching out with another hand.

He pats Betsy on the back

Is it ok? Do I look….

Betsy turns, getting a good look at Lionel, and shrieks.

TODD: Oh, I suppose it really isn’t that bad... he’s just a little disfigured.

Out of pure reflex, she roundhouse kicks Lionel in the face!

The ref finally tries to restore order- ordering both Mari and Betsy back to the apron.

Betsy throws both hands into the air.

TODD: And technically speaking, Bama, Betsy just struck Lionel!

BAMA: Yeah, but look at him! That was less a wrestling move and more of a medical reflex!

Lionel stumbles backward, one hand over his tar-scorched face, the other dramatically reaching out toward the hard cam.

My visage, dude… my beautiful instrument…

Dom grabs Lionel by the shirt and whips him toward the ropes!

Except Lionel immediately hooks both arms around the top rope, refusing to rebound.

NAY, MAN! I shan’t be Irish-whipped until my motivation is TOTALLY established!

Dome charges anyway-

And Lionel drops flat to the mat!

Dom goes flying over him, hits the ropes, rebounds back-

Only for Lionel to spring up with what appears to be a dramatic stage slap!

SMACK!

Dom’s head barely moves.

Lionel looks horrified.

Dom slowly turns back toward him.

That-ah was-a not a slap! That-ah was-a garnish!

Dom winds up….

SMACK!

….and blasts Lionel with a cartoonishly loud open-hand chop that sends him spinning in place before collapsing to one knee.

I have been struck by passion itself!

BAMA: I don’t know what that means, but I believe him!

Dom grabs Lionel by the wrist and sends him into the corner!

Lionel hits sternum-first and flops backward, collapsing like a mannequin.

Dom wastes no time, pulling a wooden spoon from inside his chef coat.

Now-ah we tenderize!

The referee immediately snatches the spoon away.

Dom looks betrayed.

But ref-ah! Issa culinary technique!

TODD: A wooden spoon is not legal in this match!

BAMA: You’re right, baby! That Bashmaster wouldn’t allow for any tomfoolery here tonight!

Both men turn and give sheepish looks into the hard cam.

Meanwhile, Dom argues with the ref long enough for Lionel to crawl on all fours toward Marisol.

Mari’s face twists with disgust.

Patético! Get up, kitten-man!

Lionel reaches for the tag.

Madam… I mean, dude… uh… I beseech thee!… grant me thy palm… and I shall become the instrument of thine victory…I mean… lets rock!

Mari rolls her eyes.

Then slaps his hand.

While also…

TAG ON THE BACK OF DOM’S SHOULDER!

The crowd perks up as Betsy immediately steps through the ropes.

TODD: And now we get the matchup everyone wanted! Betsy Granger and Marisol Vilaro, one on one!

Mari storms in hot, but Betsy meets her in the center with a collar-and-elbow tie-up.

Mari immediately tries to overpower her, driving Betsy back a step, but Betsy pivots beautifully, slips behind, and takes Mari down with a quick waistlock takedown.

Mari pops up furious.

Betsy smiles.

Mari charges again- - -

ARM DRAG BY BETSY!

Mari back up-

SECOND ARM DRAG!

Mari scrambles to her feet, swinging wildly, but Betsy ducks under and catches her with a crisp dropkick right to the chest!

Mari rolls backward into the corner, eyes wide with rage.

Betsy kips up.

The crowd pops.

TODD: That’s the Revolution Champion right there! Smooth as silk!

Mari snarls, charging out of the corner with a clothesline, but Betsy ducks, catches her from behind, and snaps her over with a release German suplex!

Mari lands hard and rolls under the bottom rope, clutching the back of her head.

Betsy stands tall, pointing to Dom.

Dom claps wildly.

Mari staggers outside, where Nessa Wall tries to fan her off and restore her composure. Betsy doesn’t wait. She hits the far ropes, comes flying back-

But the referee steps in her path!

Reminding her that she can’t attack Nessa or Lionel.

Betsy skids to a halt, looking at the ref.

That split-second is all Mari needs.

She reaches under the bottom rope and yanks Betsy’s ankle, dropping her face-first onto the canvas!

The crowd boos as Mari slides back in and immediately starts stomping Betsy down with sharp, vicious kicks.

BAMA: THAT is VilaroMaxx, baby! Efficiency! Precision! Control!

Mari drags Betsy up by the hair, whips her into the corner, and follows with a crushing running knee to the ribs. Betsy doubles over, and Mari snapmares her out of the corner before drilling a basement dropkick into the spine.

Cover!

1!

2!!

Betsy kicks out!

Mari slaps the mat, furious.

TODD: Marisol is dangerous, Bama. The comedy around this match can distract from the fact that she is absolutely vicious between those ropes.

BAMA: She’s not just trying to win. She’s trying to make Betsy look bad while doing it.

Mari locks Betsy in a single leg Boston crab, wrenching back while shouting toward the camera.

Look at her! This is your Revolution Champion? This is your inspiration? Weak posture! Poor core stability! Zero Vilaro discipline!

Betsy grits her teeth, refusing to quit.

The crowd starts clapping.

Dom slaps the turnbuckle in rhythm.

Come-ah on, Betsy!

Betsy fights up to one knee.

Then spins, slinging Mari neck-first into the bottom rope.

Mari ricochettes from the rope, her head smacking the canvas.

Betsy gives her no time

She dives, and elbows Mari once.

Twice.

Three times!!!

Betsy pops up and hits the ropes-

But Nessa grabs Betsy’s boot!

Betsy stumbles forward-

Mari is up and catches her!

VILAROIZER FISHERMENS SUPLEX!!!!!

Cover!

1!

2!!

3 - NOOOO!!!!!!!!

BETSY KICKS OUT!!!!

The crowd erupts.

Mari’s eyes go wide.

NO! No, no, no! That was perfect form!

Mari drags Betsy up again, but Betsy suddenly explodes with a forearm!

Then another!

Then another!

Mari swings back, but Betsy ducks, leaps, and catches her with a Pele kick!!!

Both women are down!

TODD: Betsy desperately needs a tag!

BAMA: And I cannot believe I’m saying this, but she needs Chef Dom Durango!

Betsy crawls.

Mari crawls.

Dom stretches his hand out, bouncing on the apron.

Lionel, still half-blinded, reaches…

TODD: What on earth is Lionel doing?

…toward the wrong corner.

BAMA: He’s shimmied all the way around the ring apron!

Mari? Mistress? Why hath your hand become so hairy, dude?

THAT-AH MY HAND!

Dom slaps Lionel across the face from the apron.

Lionel spins around just as Mari reaches him. Frustrated, she redirects him around the ring apron…

TAG!

Betsy lunges-

TAG!

Dom enters like a man possessed.

NOW-AH! THE MAIN COURSE!

Dom charges at Lionel, who immediately drops to his knees and begs off.

Good sir, let us settle this through art! Through monologue! Through interpretive-

Dom kicks him in the stomach.

TODD: Bama, it’s like the second that Lionel’s face became partially impaired by that tar, half of his Vinnie Lane instincts left him.

BAMA: Half? I’m not sure if there’s even ten percent of Lane left there… all of that hard work Mari put in, wasted!

Dom hooks Lionel and plants him with a surprisingly clean DDT!

The crowd reacts with shock.

TODD: WHERE DID THAT COME FROM???

Dom covers!

1!

2!!

LIONEL KICKS OUT!!!

Dom looks pissed.

He grabs Lionel and whips him into the ropes. Lionel rebounds and throws himself into what might be a crossbody, or might be a fainting spell.

DOM CATCHES HIM

LOOKING LIKE AN ABSOLUTE POWERHOUSE!

But then his knees buckle.

Lionel falls on top!

1!

2!!

DOM KICKS OUT!!!!!

BAMA: Lionel almost won by being too heavy!

TODD: That may be the purest expression of his wrestling style.

Dom rolls out of the ring and starts digging frantically through his cooking cart.

The referee shouts at him.

Betsy shouts at him.

No-ah worry! I got-ah plan!

He pulls out a handful of spaghetti.

Betsy’s eyes widen.

Dom, no!

Dom climbs in the ring and hurls the spaghetti at Lionel!

It slaps wetly across Lionel’s chest and hangs there.

Lionel looks down, offended.

Carbs? In this temple, dude?

Mari shrieks from the apron.

NO! DO NOT CONSUME![/[ink]

Lionel, trembling, slowly lifts a noodle to his mouth.

Mari screams louder.

[pink]RESIST, KITTEN-MAN!

Lionel’s eyes water.

I… must… VilaroMaxx…

He drops the noodle.

The crowd cheers like he just escaped addiction.

Dom is horrified.

You-ah refuse my pasta?!

Dom charges, but Lionel sidesteps, and Dom crashes chest-first into the turnbuckle.

Lionel rolls him up!

1!

2!!

DOM KICKS OUT!!!

Betsy exhales in relief on the apron.

Dom staggers up, wild-eyed, and suddenly points to the cooking cart.

Fine-ah! If-ah you no want pasta… you get-ah dessert!

Betsy grabs the tag rope with both hands, pleading.

Dom! Just wrestle!

Dom ignores her, climbs back out of the ring and reaches under the cloche, producing a massive cream pie.

TODD: Oh no…

BAMA: OH YES!

As Dom climbs back in the ring, the referee immediately tries to confiscate it.

Dom holds it high above his head.

Issa not weapon! Issa pastry!

Lionel rises behind him, woozy and dramatic.

The stage… the lights… the role of a lifetime…

Dom turns with the pie-

But Lionel ducks!

Dom smashes the pie directly into the referee’s face!

The crowd gasps.

Betsy throws both hands onto her head.

TODD: The official is blinded!

BAMA: That’s not even the first man blinded by Chef Dom tonight!

Dom panics.

Nessa hops onto the apron, screaming for Mari to take advantage.

Mari storms into the ring illegally and charges Betsy, knocking her off the apron with a cheap shot!

Betsy crashes to the floor!

The crowd boos thunderously.

Mari slides out after her and grabs Betsy by the hair-

But Betsy fires back with a kick to the mid-section!

And another!

And another!

Betsy whips Mari into the barricade!

Mari hits hard, stumbling back- falling to a single knee

Betsy runs, catches her head and - - -

PLANTS HER WITH A SNAPMARE DRIVER ON THE FLOOR!

The crowd explodes!

TODD: Betsy Granger just folded Marisol on the outside!

BAMA: That woman is a star, baby!

Inside the ring, Dom is still trying to wipe pie off the referee’s face with a dinner napkin.

Lionel sees his chance.

He staggers toward Dom, grabs him from behind, and tries to lift him.

Nothing happens.

Lionel strains.

Still nothing.

Dude… a little cooperation, if you please!

Dom turns around.

What-ah you doing?

Lionel panics and throws a desperate kick.

It catches Dom low.

The crowd groans.

The referee, still half-blind with whipped cream, sees only Dom collapsing and Lionel standing heroically above him.

TODD: Was that low?

BAMA: Todd, I think that was below the dinner table.

Betsy slides back onto the apron, reaching for the tag.

Dom crawls toward her.

Betsy is right there.

The crowd is screaming.

Dom reaches-

But then he sees the table-side cart again.

And his eyes light up.

Betsy freezes.

No.

Dom nods.

Yes-ah.

No!

YES-AH!

Dom rolls away from the tag and crawls toward the cart.

Betsy looks like she might combust.

Dom pulls himself up and reaches for the bubbling pot of Gravy TarTAR.

Now-ah… we finish-ah with the signature sauce!

The referee finally clears enough pie from his eyes to see Dom lifting the pot.

He screams at Dom to put it down.

Betsy screams at Dom to put it down.

The entire front row screams at Dom to put it down.

Dom does not put it down.

Lionel, still dazed, sees Dom coming with the pot and suddenly drops into a full theatrical death pose.

Alas! I am slain before I am slain!

Dom trips over Lionel’s outstretched leg.

The pot flies into the air.

Dom windmills his arms.

The pot lands perfectly upside down over Dom’s own head.

Then Dom slowly tips backward. He hits the mat flat on his back, the pot still stuck on his head.

Lionel, having no idea what happened, rises to his feet.

He watches with baited breath as Dom tries to stand.

He’s hunched over, his arms failing around…

Dude… I know this one…

Lionel hooks around Dom’s arms

Twists the chef into an inverted position

Lifts!!!!

BAMA: NO WAY! IS THAT VINNIE’S - - -

TODD: BLACK LABEL DRIVER!!!!

The exhausted Lionel barely drapes an arm across Dom’s chest

The referee turns.

Betsy lunges through the ropes-

But Mari grabs her ankle from the floor!

1!

BETSY KICKS BACKWARD, KICKING MARI RIGHT IN THE FACE!

2!!

BETSY DIVES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WINNERS - Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing & Marisol Vilaro

The crowd erupts in a mixture of shock, laughter, and disbelief.

I WANNA ROCK! blasts over the PA

TODD: I DON’T BELIEVE IT! SIR LIONEL PENNYFARTHING HAS PINNED CHEF DOM DURANGO!

BAMA: HE DID IT! THE MAN VILARO-MAXXED HIS WAY INTO HOL-LEE-WOOD!

TODD: He was barely conscious!

BAMA: That’s method acting, baby!

Betsy slides into the ring a half-second too late, staring at the referee in disbelief.

Dom lies motionless, the pot still covering his head.

Betsy looks down at him.

Then at the referee.

Then back at Dom.

She slowly mouths:

Why?

On the outside, Marisol staggers upright, clutching her jaw, then immediately raises both arms like she masterminded the whole thing.

YES! EXACTLY AS I TRAINED HIM!

Lionel slowly sits up, dazed, spaghetti still stuck to his shoulder, face half-scorched, tights crooked, eyes glassy.

Did… did I get the part?

…

……

……….

As the dust settles, and everyone else lears out, Marisol is still in the ring celebrating the victory.

The X-Tron flares to life, showing someone sitting in a chair with their back to the camera. Then, a masked figure steps into view:

Masked Man: Expecting someone else, Marisol?

The masked man grabs the camera and moves it around to the other side of the seated person, revealing a bruised and tied up Big Pretty! Marisol is livid. The man turns back toward the camera, which he's now placed on the opposite side of the room.

Masked Man: You thought you could push XXXVI to the edge with those attacks and face no consequences? Well baby, I am the consequence! Before his match, he saved a life. Not to be a hero, but because it was exhilarating not knowing whether he would live or die in the process. It unlocked a piece of him...of us that had been dormant for too long. It really could have gone either way, but honey, you and Not-So -Pretty here costing him a chance at the Anarchy championship? That was the tipping point. The pendulum swung the wrong way and the old T-6 can't come to the phone right now!

He turns and backhands Big Pretty across the face. A bit of blood gets on his gloved knuckles. He offers a hand to the camera.

Masked Man: Call me Death Wish. I'm what happens when you push a decent man too far. So, Leap of Faith. T-6 wanted in on the Leap of Faith match, so I'll give you a choice. Door number one: You also opt in to the Leap of Faith match so I can send you into orbit for your indiscretions...or door number two: You. Me. One on one in a cage match. Winner becomes the number one contender to the Anarchy championship. Choose wisely! Oh, and Marisol, say good night to Mr. Pretty.

Marisol runs out of the ring toward the back as Death Wish raises a riot baton over his head and Big Pretty lets out a muffled scream! The feed cuts suddenly as Marisol frantically searches in vain for her Vilaromax follower and his assailant.

Todd: One of the more disturbing things I've seen in some time. Was that XXXVI!?

Bama: Weren't you listening? That's Death Wish! Completely different person! Whoever he was, I like him! I wonder which door Marisol will choose!

Todd: We'll find out at Leap of Faith!

TODD: Up next, Bama? Two of the biggest stars in XWF are set to do battle!

BAMA: Dickie Watson and Jenny Myst shared some heated words in the lead up to this one, baby! This one should be explosive!

The lights die without warning. Not a fade, but a full blackout that sucks the air out of the arena 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.

The distorted bass of “DEATHLIST” by Code: Pandorum and GHØSTKID blares across the arena’s speaker system 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 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 apron in one clean lift. Without grabbing the ropes, 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.

"Sex Metal Barbie" by In This Moment plays as Jenny Myst makes her way to the ring.
The lights drop hard.
A low pink glow bleeds across the arena as the opening pulse of “Sex Metal Barbie” hits—industrial, predatory, unmistakable. The crowd reaction swells immediately, a mix of boos, awe, and uneasy anticipation, because everyone knows what that song means.
Then she steps through the curtain.
Jenny Myst doesn’t rush. She arrives.
Leather gleams under the lights as she pauses at the top of the ramp, chin tilted slightly upward, eyes scanning the crowd like she’s counting debts. The X-Division Championship, Mortimer, rests over her shoulder—not displayed, not flaunted—carried like a weapon she’s already used tonight. Her expression is calm, almost bored, but there’s cruelty sitting just beneath it, coiled and patient.
On the second beat drop, she rolls her shoulders and starts down the ramp with deliberate, confident strides. Each step syncs with the rhythm—measured, heavy, inevitable. She ignores the fans reaching out, the insults, the chants. Their noise doesn’t register. This isn’t their moment. It’s hers.
Halfway down, Jenny stops.
She turns slowly, eyes locking with the hard camera, and smirks—not playful, not charming, but sharp. A reminder. She lifts Mortimer just enough for the gold to catch the light, mouthing a few words only the camera gets: mine. Then she lets the title fall back against her shoulder like it belongs there… because it does.
At ringside, she wipes her boots on the apron with exaggerated care before stepping up, climbing through the ropes with smooth precision. No wasted movement. No nerves. Inside the ring, she walks straight to the center, turning once more as the music continues to snarl through the arena.
Jenny Myst raises the title high—not for the crowd, but for her opponent—eyes cold, posture relaxed, utterly in control.
The music fades.
And suddenly, the ring feels smaller.

DICKIE WATSON
- vs -
JENNY MYST

20 Minute Time Limit.

DING DING DING!

Myst and Watson go for a collar and elbow tie up.

Watson transitions into a sleek drop toe hold.

Watson pops up, dropping a standing elbow to the prone Myst!

Myst rolls out of the way!

Watson back up, swiftly with another elbow attempt!

Myst rolls!

Myst with a drop toe hold,

Transitions into an STF!

Watson counters, sliding into side control.

Watson grabs the left leg, and sets back for a half crab.

Myst pivots the hips, countering the lock, and sets in a knee bar.

Watson frees his knee, and flips over into a cradle!

1…

2…

Myst bridges out!

TODD: What athleticism on display here so far!

BAMA: Neither competitor wants to admit they lost just the classic ‘plain old match’ here tonight!

Jenny lifts Watson up for a piledriver!

NO!

Watson shifts his legs, setting his feet back on the mat, and gives a back body drop to Jenny!

NO!

Jenny actually lands on her feet atop the turnbuckle!

Moonsault from Myst!

It lands!

She gets to her feet, and rushes the ropes, rebounding with a leg drop!

Myst flips Watson and goes for the pin!

1…

2…

Kickout, but Myst reapplies the pin after planting the shoulder back down!

1…

2…

Kickout again, and Jenny goes for an armbar.

Watson maintains, though, not giving up the arm, and shifts their weight onto their feet and holding Jenny down with a pin!

1…

2…

Myst kicks out!

Watson immediately drops a knee to Myst’s skull!

Myst recoils as Watson stands, regaining composure!

Myst brings herself to her feet, appealing to the referee that the knee was illegal.

Both competitors go to tie up again!

NO!

Myst ducks, and grabs Watson in a rear waist lock!

German suplex from Myst, but Watson is smashed into the referee!

Watson rolls aside from the impact, but the referee is knocked silly!

TODD: Well, wait, this is a plain old match, just a regular match, and now the referee is unconscious!

BAMA: That’s right Todderino.

TODD: That means anything can happen here.

BAMA: Correctomundo, Todd, pretty spiffy powers of observation you have there.

Seeing the referee is out, Myst slides out of the ring and reaches around underneath it!

The crowd is going insane over all this!

Jenny pulls a chair out from under the ring!

She climbs onto the ring apron, and stands, raising the chair for the crowd to see!

Watson dropkicks the chair out of her hands!

Jenny spins!

Watson stands, and Watson catches Jenny with a suplex back into the ring!

Watson maintains the clutch, rolling through, and transitions into a bridging German suplex!

But the referee is still out!

TODD: Watson with a clear and clean pin here, but the referee is still reeling from getting crunched by an errant German!

BAMA: My uncle was once crunched by an errant German in Havana!

TODD: What? That sounds like way too interesting a story you never told me!

BAMA: It’s boring, Toddski, watch the match!

Noticing the referee is still down, Watson releases the pin and goes to the referee, attempting to roust them!

The rousting is interrupted by a desperate double axe handle from a diving Jenny!

Jenny to her feet, and throws a snap kick to Watson!

Jenny rushes the ropes, looking to rebound again!

Jenny rushes back, and Watson counters with a drop toe hold!

Jenny’s neck and shoulders are bridged across the middle rope!

MOLOTOV COCKTAIL FROM WATSON!

Jenny is sent keeling back into the center of the ring, until she tumbles out!

Jenny catches herself on the outside, leaned against the apron!

Watson beckons for Jenny to get back into the ring!

Jenny waves him off!

Jenny starts marching back up the entrance!

TODD: Myst seems like she doesn’t want any more of Watson here!

BAMA: Or these fans!

The fans are riotous as Jenny walks up the ramp, seeming to wave off of the match.

The crowd goes wild as the old familiar song starts playing.

Jenny points and laughs at Watson as the XWF Universe sings along.

“YOU’RE DEAD, YOU’RE DEAD, YOU’RE DEAD, YOU’RE DEAD AND OUT OF THIS WORLD.”

Bobby Bourbon steps out onto the Anarchy stage, the Television Championship around his waist.

The crowd sings along.

“STAY DEAD, STAY DEAD, STAY DEAD, STAY DEAD AND OUT OF THIS WORLD!”

TODD: Oh no, Bama, Bobby Bourbon is here at Anarchy, and it looks like B.O.B. is gelling again!

BAMA: It was just a matter of time before Bobby showed what kind of bastard he was..

TODD: Or was it???

Bobby grabs Jenny and picks her up.

He marches her back down to the ring.

The slides her in.

Jenny stands, screaming at Bobby.

She turns to Watson.

DICKIE’S REVENGE!

The referee is moving as Watson makes the pin!

1…

2…

3!

WINNER: DICKIE WATSON

The pinfall counted, Watson rises to his feet.

BAMA: Dickie Watson is your winner folks, but this is just getting going!

TODD: Bobby Bourbon is climbing the ring steps and entering the ring!

Bobby enters the ring and produces his microphone, the microphone of a Sith Lord, and looks at Watson.

Watson glares back.

”Hey everybody, look, it’s Dick!”

“You just proved sometimes the small ones are what get the job done.”

Bobby cocks an eyebrow, smirking.

Watson takes a deep breath, still ready to fight.

”Easy, killer, easy.”

“I’m not here for blood, I collect that weekly on Warfare now, or at least that’s my new job title.”

“Besides, the last toy someone told me to play with must’ve been bought off Temu because it broke way too easy.”

“Strong work tonight, I guess I have a few more wannabe bastards to go visit still.”

Bobby approaches Watson, who cocks a fist back, ready to fight.

Bobby grabs Dickie’s wrist.

The referee looks mortified, screaming at Bobby not to do anything!

TODD: Here it comes, Bama!

BAMA: Dickie, get out of there!

Bobby raises Dickie’s hand in victory.

The crowd erupts as he does.

Bobby turns and whispers something into Dickie’s ear, winks, and leaves.

Todd: "Hold on Bama... I'm getting word that—SOMETHING'S GOING DOWN BACKSTAGE!"

Cut to backstage where we see Micheal Graves storming down the hallway with purpose.

"DOM!"

Production crew scatter out of the way as Graves pushes past them.

"YOU PASTA PASTE PUSHIN' PISSANT! YOU WANT SOME!?"

He shoves his way through a pair of swinging double doors right into—THE ANARCHY KITCHEN!

"YOU GET SOME!"

And the unmistakable smell of shitty canned pasta simmering on the stovetop.

Towards the back we see Dom Durango calmly slicing vegetables with a huge knife.

He doesn't even look up from his task as Graves storms in.

"Ah. There-ah he is-ah."

Slice.

"You know... most people would apologize after humiliating themselves on live culinary television."

Graves cracks his neck, ready for a fight.

"I beat your ass in a cookoff."

Dom faintly smiles, still not looking up at Graves.

"You-ah mixed-ah bunch-ah trash-ah into a pot-ah and—"

Graves points and cuts him off.

"AND COMPTEN CEE'S GUT SAID ME!!!"

Dom finally looks up.

"And with-ah that gross-ah misjudgement-ah, every serious chef-ah in the world-ah died a little inside-ah."

Graves takes a step forward.

"You wanted me in your kitchen for a fight?"

Another step.

"Here I am."

Dom wipes the knife clean on a towel.

"No."

He smiles.

"I wanted you surrounded."

The entire kitchen staff turn toward Graves.

And that's when we realize that are all wearing oversized foam mascot heads of Dom Durango's smiling face.

Huge cartoon chef heads with dead black eyes and massive fake mustaches.

Graves stares.

"...the fuck?"

WHAM!

A baking tray cracks across the back of his head.

Another mascot tackles him into a prep table as ingredients go flying.

CRASH!

Steel bowls scatter across the floor.

Three more mascot chefs swarm him immediately, stomping him against the floor while the giant smiling Dom heads bob over him.

Dom backs away as violence explodes around him.

”Flam-ah-BAY him! Choppah and-ah PEAL-AH him!”

YES CHEF! The mascots bark, one hivemind perfectly tuned to execute Dom’s commands!

One mascot starts choking Graves with an apron.

Another smashes a sack of flour into his face.

A third repeatedly blasts him with one of those metal serving lids like a cymbal.

A fourth douses him with a bottle of alcohol… and pulls out a culinary blowtorch!

TODD: Holy SHIT!

Graves manages to KICK the blowtorch out of that mascot’s hand and decks one sprinkling himalayan pink salt into his wounds… But each time Graves takes out one, two more mascot Doms spring forth!

CLANG!

"I'LL KILL..."

CLANG!

YOU BIG HEADED...

CLANG!

BITCHES!"

An industrial mixer gets slammed into Graves ribs.

Dom crouches beside the pileup with a grin.

"You embarrassed-ah me on-ah my stage."

He adjusts his cuffs.

"So I thought-ah..."

The mascot chefs Shield style powerbomb Graves through a steel prep table that collapses around him on impact.

Dom smiles down at him.

"...I'd return-ah the favor on yours-ah."

One mascot chef raises a rolling pin.

SMACK—right across the top of Graves skull!

He's out cold.

”Revenge is a dish-ah best served cold, Mister-ah Graves… And it’s-ah very cold on Mars… I will-ah see you… at Leap-ah of Faith!”

And with that, Dom leaves with his mascot cronies in tow!

Todd: "I can't believe it! Bad Blood from their GCC meeting has spilled over to Anarchy as Dom Durango and his kitchen staff of mascots just laid out the former Universal champion!"

Bama T: "Baby, I don't know what kinda Hell's Kitchen we just witnessed... But Graves has a title match later tonight and he suddenly doesn't look very fit to compete!"

The camera zooms in on Graves as Dom and his cronies exit the kitchen.

BAMA T: Hold up, baby! Before we move on I’ve just gotten word from the back that XWF Xtreme Champion Samael Dyson is broadcasting LIVE from an undisclosed location.

TODD: I’m sure this won’t be horrible and offensive at all. Let’s go to Sam.

The shot cuts to a wide view of the X-Tron, which lights up with a view of Samael Dyson’s face!

Samael’s wearing a deep scowl and he proceeds to shout into the camera!

DOLLY!

DOLLY WATERS!

Get your narrow ass out here RIGHT NOW!

You think you’re gonna expel me from the XWF you got another thing coming bitch!

The arena lights dim slightly. It’s not a full black out. But just enough for the mood in the arena to shift.

No music plays… but the crowd rises anyway.

A wave moving through the Kazer Pavillion as their focus turns on one person.

Dolly Waters.

No pageantry. No smile. No raised fist.

Just that -unfortuantly now- familiar limp.

That knee brace.

That cold look in her eyes, that suggests she hasn’t slept much since March Madness.

TODD: There she is… Madame Presidente herself!

BAMA T: Business is about to pick up, baby!

Dolly cuts right through. No waves to the crowd. No looks at the hard cam. Her attention fixed entirely on the XTron.

On Samael Dyson.

He sneers from the screen as Dolly raises a microphone.

Y’know Sam… you sure do spend a whole lot of time screamin’...

She pauses.

…for a dead man.

Sam’s expression twists instantly,

Ooooh, bravo, you clever little bitch! Yeah, I bet you think you’re real clever ABUSING the power of the union to enact some petty revenge on me, Dolly. I mean, let’s boil this down to brass tacks. This is about my mother, that’s all this has ever been about!

Let me make somethin’ perfectly clear before you go throwing another tantrum on live television…

This ain’t personal revenge.

If it was? I would’ve come looking for you with something a whole lot meaner than a ballot box.

This is accountability.

Something this company forgot existed a long time ago.

I said it on Warfare, and I’ll say it again, when it comes to our Union: A Crime against one of us, is a crime against all of us.

Tonight, yer’ gonna’ answer for yer’ crimes.

All you’ve ever done is scream and cry about Madison. Like what happened in the past gave you permission for what happened.

Like yer’ grief is some sort of hall pass.

Like pain turns murder into poetry.

It dont.

Oh fuck off!

You know what, Dolly?

Let’s boil this down to even brasser tacks!

Uh….yeah!

What this is about is your GUILT COMPLEX!

You moonswill drinking redneck

, I had my mother for MONTHS and what did you do about it? NOTHING! You did NOTHING to help her. No gallant rescue efforts. Not so much as a lifted goddamn finger! Yeah, what a great friend you are, Dolly. And now you’re taking that misplaced guilt out on me when in fact you’re just as responsible for her death as I am!

You wanna’ know the truth, Sam?

Maybe I SHOULD’VE done more.

Maybe I should’ve drug myself on one leg to whatever stupid Leviathan’s World yer’ hiding at, and kicked the damn door down myself.

Maybe I should’ve dragged her outta’ that darkness by her ankles.

Maybe I should’ve seen how bad you’d gotten before all of this turned into blood, funerals and ghost stories.

She shakes her head,

I’ll carry that with me until they put me in the ground.

Her voice hardens now,

But don’t you DARE sit there and confuse my guilt with yer’ innocence.

Because I failed somebody I love.

And you murdered someone who tried to love you.

That’s the difference between us, Sam.

You keep talkin’ like this vote is about revenge.

It aint. It’s about protection.

Protection for every poor soul in that lockerroom who's gotta’ wonder whether they’re standing next to a coworker… or a corpse waiting to happen.

You want the truth?

I don’t hate you, Sam.

I think yer’ sick.

I think yer’ an angry little boy.

I think you’d rather burn the whole fucking world down, rather than admit you need help.

But the second you spilled blood? The second you killed her?

This stopped being about what happened to you… and started being about what yer’ willing to do to everyone else.

So tonight, the workers decide whether this company still belongs to human beings…

…or monsters like you.

And if the NCAC returns a 60% vote tonight?

Then you can spend the rest of yer’ miserable life screaming at ghosts instead of yer’ colleagues.

The crowd starts chanting: N-C-A-C! N-C-A-C!

YOU THINK YOU’RE BETTER THAN ME BECASUE YOU HIDE BEHIND THAT STUPID FUCKING UNION?! WEAK!

YOU’RE ALL HYPOCRITES! EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU!

YOU DIDN’T CARE ABOUT MADISON DYSON UNTIL SHE WAS DEAD!

No, Sam.

I cared about Madison while she was here.

If it weren’t for Madison Dyson, there would’ve been no Revolution.

There would’ve been no Union.

She was the embodiment of hope… the hope that people can change.

That’s why this hurts.

But this ain’t about hurt anymore… It's about consequences.

And now, it’s time to face yers’.

Dolly points back toward the ring, at the XTron hanging above it, where a graphic is now displayed tabulating the results of the NCAC Balot Measure.

“To Terminate Union Membership and Banish From The XTreme Wrestling Federation: Samael Dyson?”

YES: 59.6%
NO: 40.4%

No… no… that’s not… it was higher earlier… way higher!

Hahahaha don’t worry, Dolly! There’s at least one vote still remaining

Sam jerks a middle aged man into view of the camera. But it’s clear that something is very, very wrong here. One of the man’s eyes is puffy and black and blue, and a thin rivulet of blood is seeping out of the corner of his eye.

Yesssss ma’am. I got Tom the camera guy ready and willing to give the final vote!

What did you do?! God dammit, WHAT DID YOU DO?

Ohhh, you can feel it deep down in that stinky whisker biscuit, can’t you Dolly? The tide turning! Sam leers. So Tom, you’re the last remaining crucial vote. Let’s not dither any longer……what is it?!

Tom’s vacant unfocused eye almost look like it’s going to focus for a moment. Almost. HAMBURGERS!

Sam shakes his head, tut-tutting. No Tom….THE VOTE. What are you going to vote?

A thin stream of drool drops out of Tom’s mouth. Oh….oh yeah! I vote NO!

The crowd boos uproariously and Dolly looks absolutely disgusted as the numbers on the X-Tron recalibrate.

What the hell did you do to him, Sam?!

Sam mocks locking taken aback. Bwuh? Me?! I didn’t do anything! This is Tom’s unfiltered and honest opinion. Sam pauses for a bit, wagging a finger at the camera. But maybe….just maybe….this could have gone another way if you had focused a little less on the stars of the show and paid more attention to the true heroes of the XWF….the rank and file! The backstage producers. The ring crew. The techs! But I paid attention to them, Dolly. His voice sinks into a sinister mien. Oh yes I did. I paid attention. To them. To their families.. And we had some frank conversations about why it would behoove them to vote “no” today. Didn’t we Tom old pal?

Chili cheese dogs!

Bah! Sam casually pushes Tom out of sight of the camera.

Dolly looks absolutely irate now. You absolute bastard. You think this ends here, you think this ends today?!

Oh sure….sure! Hold another vote. Let’s see how many more “Tom’s” I can find. Sam threatens.

No, not another vote! But this will end at Leap of Faith. Because you see I had a contingency plan in place. I figured you might do something to fuck with the vote. So, I already spoke with management and it’s a done deal. If you refuse to defend your XTreme championship at the pay per view, you are FIRED!

Sam’s lip curls up in a sneer and the fans pop huge.

Oh, and by the by Sammy, the special guest referee for your match? NONE OTHER THAN KRISTOFFER ARROYO!

The fans pop even louder!! Dolly’s expression turns up into a smile.

Now get this piece of garbage off the screen and let’s get on with the show.

Just as it looks like Sam is about to protest, his feed is abruptly cut. Dolly gives one final nod to the fans as she heads towards the back. But no sooner does she reach the backstage area than does she run into Kristoffer Arroyo!

Kris is all smiles, and he shakes Dolly’s hand.

Thank you for that.

No problem. Now I’m not gonna tell you to cheat the man outta his title….but-

Kris stops her mid sentence

-say no more.I hear you. Loud and clear.

The shot then cuts again, this time to the announce position.

BAMA T: The leader of the union laying down the law!

TODD: Samael Dyson may have figured out a way around the vote here tonight, but there’s gonna be hell to pay at Leap of Faith when Sam is finally forced to defend his championship with his hated enemy Kristoffer Arroyo as the referee!

BAMA T: It’s gonna get white hot, live on pay per view!

TODD: Welcome back to Anarchy, folks! This next one is not only about an opportunity for the Revolution Title! It’s also about VENGEANCE!

BAMA: Very true, Toddrick! These two people both want a shot at the Revolution Title! But more than that, I think it would fill each one with a sense of revulsion and disgust to know they weren’t getting the shot, and their opponent is!

TODD: These two simply don’t like each other, Bama! These two sharing the ring isn’t going to be great for either’s health… but it’s going to make for some INCREDIBLY VIOLENT wrestling!

…

S&M By Rhianna will play throughout the arena as the crowd cheers while Summer walks down the aisle. Summer gets to the ring side and walks up the ring stairs. Summer looks out at the crowd and raises her arms out to the crowd as the crowd cheers louder.

TODD: Summer Page has been hunting for her first taste of championship gold since making her Anarchy debut! Despite challenges in a title match environment, it’s worth remembering she went over a calendar year UNDEFEATED in non-title matches!

BAMA: Summer’s got the wins on her record to support a title shot almost whenever she wants! And she looked dominant in the early-going, eliminating Reggie Estrada with her patented Pure Perfection on the outside of the ring! She looked poised and ready to do anything it took to get a shot against Betsy Granger for the Revolution Title…

TODD: But, then, when Summer had both competitors down and looked ready to take them out one at a time, Mister Oz delivered a Gravitas through a table and sent Summer out!

BAMA: She’s got one more chance at taking a spot for the Revolution Title at Leap… Can she do it?

Summer turns her attention to inside the ring where she motions to the referee to open the bottom and middle ropes so they can enter. Summer walks over to the closest ring corner and climbs up to the middle turnbuckle.

…

Oswald stands amidst an indie metal band, watching the ring, looking at the band. Soon a choir is heard as the band begins to play his theme song. He walks towards the lead guitarist, clapping him gently on the back so as to not mess up her playing. Oswald, walks down the ramp, the bottom of his white cloak dragging along the ground. Once at the ring, he'd leap onto the apron before launching himself to show how strong and agile he was to lift such mass with such ease right over the top rope and de-cloaked himself, placing it in his corner before stretching out his arms in a lower case t and roaring out to the crowd before going and sitting on top of his cloak, awaiting the bell as he mentally plans out the match, as well as how to try and beat his opponent.

TODD: Speaking of competitors who almost punched their own ticket to a Revolution Title match at Leap of Faith, Oz came in second! For a moment, it looked like he had Solomon Kline dead to rights!

BAMA: But then Summer decided to stick her nose in Oz’s business after getting eliminated and knocked Oz right in his yellow bricks!

TODD: …Are you implying Oz’s testicles are yellow? That sounds like a possible infection. Regardless, Summer and Oz both see the other as the reason they missed out on the chance to compete for championship gold at Leap of Faith… And one of them is going to be slid into the match making it a triple-threat!

BAMA: But to do that, they’re gonna have to go through the other!

Summer Page stood in her corner with her jaw clenched, shoulders rolling loose, glaring at Mister Oz with visible contempt. Across from her, Oz sat motionless atop his folded entrance cloak in the corner, head tilted downward as if meditating. The crowd buzzed with anticipation…

MR. OZ

- vs -

SUMMER PAGE

-#2 Contender Grudge Match-

The winner of this match will be ADDED to the Revolution Championship match between Granger and Kline

25 Minute Time Limit

The bell rang and neither competitor moved immediately.

Then Oz slowly rose to his feet.

The moment he stood upright, Summer stormed forward.

SMACK!

A brutal forearm cracked across Oz’s jaw before he could fully step out of the corner.

TODD: Summer wasting absolutely no time!

Another forearm.

And another.

Summer hammered him backward into the turnbuckles before whipping him hard across the ring. Oz exploded out of the opposite corner with shocking speed—

—but Summer immediately ducked low and DROPKICKED the knee out from under him!

Oz stumbled forward.

Summer grabbed the head—

SNAP DDT!

Oz spiked into the canvas and immediately somersaulted backward toward the ropes to create distance… He stands tall, no-selling getting spiked on the head!

Summer kipped up and screamed a wild shriek at him!

TODD: …Holy shit.
BAMA: They might actually kill each other, Toddy baby, and I am HERE for it!

TODD: Based on his promo, I think we all thought Oz would be the out-of-control maniac, but he’s thus far been cold and calculated… measured and thoughtful!

Oz stared back at her with an eerie calmness that somehow only made her angrier.

Summer charged again—

Oz suddenly burst forward and nearly turned her inside out with a massive shoulder tackle.

The impact echoed through the arena.

BAMA: GOOD LORD! She got RUN OVER!

He leans over the prone Page and SCREAMS back in her face!

TODD: …Disregard, that was a ploy, Oz is clearly EVEN ANGRIER than Summer!

Oz stood over her, breathing heavily, then spread his arms out slowly as if blessing the audience.

BOOOOOOOOOOO.

Summer pushed herself up angrily and slapped him across the face.

The entire crowd gasped.

Oz FUMES!

He grabbed Summer by the throat and hurled her violently across the ring with a release body slam.

Summer crashed hard and rolled to the apron, clutching her back.

Oz followed immediately.

He grabbed her by the hair—

—but Summer snapped his neck across the top rope!

STUNGUN!

Oz staggered backward holding his throat.

Summer slingshotted herself into the ring—

SLINGSHOT SUPLEX!

Oz flew overhead and crashed flat on his back.

Summer floated over into the cover.

ONE!

TWO—

Oz launched her off with authority.

TODD: Oz just too big! Summer’s gonna have to figure out what she couldn’t figure out how to do while she was still legal that elimination four corners match… and that’s how to keep Oz down!

BAMA: She at least figured out how to do one ILLEGAL way and that’s kicking him in the balls!

Summer landed hard but came back immediately with sharp precision strikes to the face and chest.

TODD: You can see Summer settling down… settling into her game! Every one of these shows is imbued with purpose.

BAMA: Sum-Sum knows she can’t overpower him, so she targeted openings with ruthless efficiency! That’s the sort of offense that wins matches!

High kick to the ribs.

Forearm to the jaw.

Basement dropkick to the knee.

Oz swung wildly with a clothesline—

Summer ducked.

CHICK KICK!

The superkick snapped Oz’s head sideways and staggered him into the ropes.

Summer hit the opposite side.

OZ TURNED HER INSIDE OUT WITH A BIG BOOT!

TODD: WHAT A COUNTER!

BAMA: And that sort of defense is what wins CHAMPIONSHIPS!

Summer flipped backward from the impact and crumpled near center-ring.

Oz grabbed her dead weight with both hands and hauled her upward into a delayed vertical suplex. The crowd began counting along as he held her suspended.

One…

Two…

Three…

Four…

Five…

Oz started doing squats while still holding her upside down.

The crowd roared.

Six…

Seven…

Eight…

Then he finally DROVE her into the mat.

BAMA: That man is a FREAK!

Oz covered.

ONE!

TWO!

Summer barely got a shoulder up.

Oz immediately transitioned into a crushing bear hug, squeezing the life out of her.

Summer screamed in pain as Oz leaned backward, compressing her ribs.

TODD: This is exactly where Summer does NOT want to be! She’s in there with a stronger, heavier athlete and Oz knows it!

Summer desperately hammered elbows into the side of his head.

Oz absorbed them.

She raked his eyes.

The referee reprimanded her—

—and Summer slipped free.

Oz stumbled blindly forward.

HIGH KNEE!

Oz dropped to one knee.

Summer hit the ropes—

CODE RED!

The crowd exploded as Oz got SPIKED into the canvas.

ONE!

TWO!!

THR—NO!

Oz powered out violently.

Summer slapped the mat in frustration.

Her anger started creeping in now.

She grabbed Oz by the head and screamed directly into his face before trying to hook him for Pure Perfection—

—but Oz suddenly muscled her upward.

GORILLA PRESS!

The crowd gasped as he held her high overhead.

Then—

GUTBUSTER!

Summer folded in half across his knee and collapsed to the canvas coughing violently.

Oz stalked her now.

Not theatrical anymore.

Predatory.

Summer crawled toward the ropes.

Oz charged.

STRIKING SPEAR!

NO!

Summer sidestepped at the last second and Oz SPEARED THE TURNBUCKLE POST THROUGH THE PADDING!

TODD: OHHHHH MY GOD!

Oz staggered backward in agony.

Summer saw her opening.

Her entire expression changed.

Cold.

Focused.

Ruthless.

She sprinted forward—

SPOILED ROTTEN!

The backstabber drove Oz downward.

He bounced upward in pain—

TOTAL KNOCKOUT!

SUPERKICK!

Oz collapsed to both knees, dazed.

Summer hit the ropes again.

SWEET & SASSY!

The Frankensteiner SPIKED Oz onto the top of his head and the crowd erupted.

ONE!

TWO!!

THR—KICKOUT!

Summer lost it.

She slammed the mat repeatedly in fury.

BAMA: Summer’s letting the emotions get to her!

BAMA: How many times has Summer come inches away from a title victory? From removing that title match monkey off her back! Of course, her emotions are high! She’s asking herself what the hell she’s gotta do to get the job done against a monster like Oz!

She grabbed Oz and started hammering forearms into him recklessly now instead of strategically.

Oz absorbed them.

One by one.

Then suddenly grabbed her wrist.

Summer froze.

Oz slowly rose to his feet while still holding her arm.

The crowd began roaring.

Summer tried another forearm—

Oz blocked it.

Another—

Blocked again.

Oz yanked her inward—

DOUBLE A SPINEBUSTER!

The ring SHOOK.

Both competitors laid motionless for several seconds.

Then Oz sat up first.

His eyes locked onto Summer.

He slowly raised one hand.

The crowd buzzed nervously.

TODD: He’s thinking “I Failed You!”

Summer stumbled upward using the ropes.

Oz grabbed her from behind.

MANDIBLE CLAW—

NO!

Summer BIT HIS HAND!

The crowd exploded.

Oz recoiled in shock.

Summer immediately trapped the leg—

PERFECT 10!!

FIGURE EIGHT LEG LOCK!!

Oz screamed in agony instantly.

TODD: SHE’S GOT IT LOCKED IN! SHE’S GOT IT FULLY BRIDGED!

Oz clawed desperately at the mat.

TODD: We’ve seen Oz look calm this match… we’ve seen him look angry… but this is the first time tonight he’s looked like he doesn’t have total control!

He tried powering upward.

His knee buckled.

He screamed again.

Summer arched higher, wrenching the hold tighter while shouting at him to tap.

Oz reached for the ropes.

Too far.

He clawed forward inch by inch.

Summer dragged herself backward to the center of the ring.

Oz pounded the mat in fury.

Then finally—

HE TAPPED.

Winner: ‘Spoiled’ Summer Page

TODD: SUMMER PAGE HAS DONE IT! SUMMER PAGE IS GOING TO LEAP OF FAITH!

BAMA: Betsy Granger’s odds just got WAY worse! Not only does she have to overcome a very game competitor in Solomon Kline… but Summer Page has never looked more primed to don championship gold around her waist!

Summer released the hold and rolled backward onto the mat, exhausted and sweating heavily.

Meanwhile Oz sat against the ropes clutching his knee, staring at Summer with quiet hatred.

TODD: I don’t think it’s over between these two!

BAMA: Not while they’re both still breathing, Toddrick!

TODD: Welcome back everyone! Tonight has been one heck of a ride… We’ve witnessed

stunts that defied the odds,

dreams come true,

dreams become shattered,

democracy itself challenged by institutional rot,

grudges settled,

grudges stoked,

vengeance enacted

…and so much more on our last stop before Leap of Faith..

BAMA: Baby! Its felt like TWO DAYS worth of BASHTACULAR action!

TODD: And now it’s time for our main event!

…but not before…

Magic by Pilot blasts through the arena speakers!

THE BASHMASTER BARRY MASTERSON ARRIVES ON THE RAMP… to a decent-enough ovation… and joins Todd and Bama in commentary.

TODD: Ladies and gentlemen… we have a very special guest joining us in the booth for this main event.

BAMA: YES WE DO, BABY!

TODD: The former full-time General Manager of Anarchy, and the man who first brought us the Anarchy Tag Team Championships… THE BASHMASTER BARRY MASTERSON!

BASHY: Ahoy, my merriest of men! What an arousing, swashbuckling spectacle this program has been tonight, wouldn’t you say?

TODD: Anarchy is always special, Barry, but I must admit, this episode has packed a unique touch tonight

BASHY: Well said, Throbby Toddy. I do hope I haven’t… come too late

Barry settles into the headset with a grin entirely too pleased with itself.

BAMA: Never too late for Bashy, baby!

TODD: And what a match for you to return to commentary for.

The Anarchy Tag Team Championships are on the line here tonight, Barry… titles YOU introduced nearly a year ago.

BASHY: Ahhh yes… my beautiful chrome-plated little bastards. Aren’t they gorgeous?

I envisioned those championships as the beating heart of Anarchy itself.

Violent.

Unpredictable.

Slightly sticky.

BAMA: That last part concerns me.

BASHY: It should!

Though I must confess, there is another reason I simply HAD to join you boys tonight…

Michael Graves.

TODD: I had a feeling you were going to mention him.

BASHY: Ahhhh, but not just any Michael Graves, darling. THIS Michael Graves.

You see, I was dreadfully fond of the alleged one. That magnificent, leather-clad degenerate held my beloved Anarchy Championship for ages! A proper menace. Like a aroused raccoon with a switchblade.

But this Graves…

BAMA: You ain’t sold yet?

BASHY: Oh, I didn’t say that, Beefcake Bama. Quite the contrary.

This one frightens me.

…and I find that rather attractive.

Todd exhales.

TODD: Folks, earlier tonight we saw Chef Dom Durango assault Michael Graves backstage in retaliation for the events of the GCC competition. Graves was struck repeatedly with kitchen equipment and reportedly suffered an injured back after being powerbombed through a steel table!

BAMA: Which means somehow… somehow… Graves might actually come into this match in a BAD mood.

TODD: That’s a terrifying sentence.

BASHY: Mm. And poor timing for our champions.

TODD: Speaking of the champions, the Rollerwhores have managed to survive every challenge put in front of them since capturing those titles under the guidance of Samael Dyson.

BAMA: Well… usually with Samael hiding behind them while THEY do the dirty work.

BASHY: And yet curiously absent from the arena tonight…. Outside of his broadcast appearance.

TODD: That’s no coincidence. Kristoffer Arroyo has spent months hunting Samael Dyson.

BAMA: And after what went down earlier tonight? We now know Kris is gonna be the special guest referee at Leap of Faith when Dyson finally steps into the fire!

BASHY: Which means dear Samael has wisely elected not to stand anywhere near Mister Arroyo this evening.

A shame, really.

Fear adds such marvelous texture to a man.

Todd pauses as the camera pans over the crowd and toward the ring.

TODD: This match may have standard rules attached to it, but there is absolutely nothing standard about the challengers.

BAMA: Arroyo and Graves together just FEELS wrong, man. Like seeing two apex predators sharing the same cage.

BASHY: Or two sharks discovering they rather enjoy the taste of the same blood.

TODD: Well one thing’s for sure… whether Barry’s here for nostalgia, curiosity, or something else entirely…

we are about to find out whether these championships are entering a very dangerous new era.

The arena is bathed in a deep red light that brings out the shadows in every nook and cranny as "Deep Set" by Greg Puciato starts to play. Kristoffer Arroyo steps through the entrance way, looking cool and confident behind is bright pink shades.

He saunters down to the ring, taking his time and seeming to savor the moment before suddenly exploding into a slide into the ring. He then steps through the ropes onto the ring apron, where he wraps his legs around the middle rope and hangs himself upside down with his arms outstretched like an inverted cross.

TODD: Kristoffer Arroyo has become one of the most unsettling competitors on the Anarchy roster over the last several months.

BASHY: Mm. There’s an intimacy to his violence I find deeply… concerning.

BAMA: “Concerning” ain’t the word I’d use!

BASHY: I’m trying terribly hard not to say “erotic,” Bama.

He smiles for the camera, revealing long sharpened incisors, before sitting up and rolling up and over the top rope and to the canvas. He then proceeds to get to a neutral corner and wait for the contest to begin.

Green lasers scatter across the stage.

Graves steps through the curtain with a noticeable limp from his earlier ambush. 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 down the ramp in no hurry.

Fans reach out to him.

He doesn't acknowledge them.

The cameras catch quick cuts on the XTron of Graves smashing faces, laughing mid-beating, spraying mist, weapons, blood, ugly mayhem.

TODD: There’s visible damage on Graves after what happened earlier tonight.

BAMA: Chef Dom Durango jumped this man backstage with kitchen equipment and at least a dozen sous chefs… and Graves STILL insisted on competing.

BASHY: Ahhh… now THIS is more familiar.

TODD: Excuse me?

BASHY: The alleged Graves was chaos. Delicious chaos. But this one?

This one behaves like pain is merely a scheduling conflict.

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 and Arroyo nod at one another, knowing exactly what they’re out to accomplish tonight.

BAMA: You see that look right there? They didn’t come for a wrestling match, man.

TODD: No…

BASHY: They came for a harvest.

S.E.X rolls through the arena as strobe lights intensify with each beat.

Graves and Arroyo position themselves at the front of the ring. Nearly frothing at the mouth, waiting on the Anarchy Tag Champs to appear on the ramp.

The music keeps playing…

….and playing…

But not ROLLERWHORES on the ramp?

TODD: Where are the champions?

BASHY: Perhaps a no-show like their boss?

BAMA: OH! LOOK OUT!

Just then, Violet and Elektra hop the barricade, slide into the ring undetected and begin assaulting Arroyo and Graves from behind!

The Rollerwhores immediately use the advantage, smashing their metal rollerskates into the backs of the challengers’ knees!

Graves drops to one knee!

Arroyo stumbles forward into the corner!

TODD: The champions striking first!

BAMA: And striking DIRTY!

BASHY: Mmm. Yes.

Violet jumps onto Graves’ back, clawing at his eyes through the pain from earlier tonight while Elektra grinds the side of her skate against Arroyo’s throat in the corner.

The referee desperately tries to restore order!

But the Rollerwhores only laugh behind their masks.

The ref calls for the bell.

THE ROLLERWHORES © w/ Samael Dyson
- vs -
KRISTOFFER “VAMP” ARROYO & MICHAEL GRAVES

Anarchy Tag Team Championships
30 Minute Time Limit

DING DING DING!

TODD: AND THE MATCH IS UNDERWAY!

Violet wraps herself around Graves from behind, raking at his face while Elektra repeatedly drives her shoulder into Arroyo’s ribs in the corner.

The challengers are being rocked early!

BUT ARROYO SUDDENLY SNATCHES ELEKTRA BY THE THROAT!

BAMA: Uh oh.

Elektra fires a forearm!

Arroyo doesn’t budge.

Another!

Nothing.

Then Arroyo smiles.

AND HEADBUTTS HER DIRECTLY IN THE FACEMASK!

Hard enough to echo through the arena!

Elektra stumbles backward in a daze.

Arroyo follows instantly with a vicious leg sweep before floating directly into a grounded crossface, wrenching back with terrifying intensity.

TODD: Arroyo is just folding her up!

BASHY: Oh, that’s gorgeous. Look at the control. Like a ballroom dance performed during a Cenobite sex party.

Meanwhile Violet keeps clawing at Graves from behind - - -

UNTIL GRAVES REACHES BACK AND GRABS HER BY THE MASK!

Violet panics immediately.

She tries prying his hands loose…

But Graves just slowly rises to his feet with her still attached to his back.

BAMA: GOOD LORD THE POWER OF GRAVES!

Graves reaches up…

…and peels Violet off him over his shoulder with raw force before launching her halfway across the ring with a fallaway slam.

Violet rolls violently into the corner, and tumbles under the ropes and onto the floor.

Graves stands there breathing hard through the pain in his ribs.

Then laughs.

BASHY: Ahhhhhh.

TODD: You alright there, Barry?

BASHY: I forgot how much I missed the sound of SLAMMING.

Graves and Violet eventually make their way back to their respective corners, while Kris has been laying the work to Elektra. Batting her around like a cat playing with a half-dead mouse.

Left leg sweep.

Right leg sweep!

Running STO!!!

Elektra desperately claws toward her corner, and Arroyo just stalks behind her on all fours like an animal.

She makes the tag!

Violet scrambles in

RIGHT INTO A SPEAR FROM GRAVES!

The crowd explodes.

TODD: Graves nearly cut her in half!

Graves immediately rolls into mounted punches, hammering forearms into Violet’s mask over and over and over again while the referee counts.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

Graves keeps swinging.

TODD: Graves has to break!

BAMA: He don’t know how, Todd!

Finally Arroyo calmly steps up and places a hand on Graves’ shoulder.

Graves stops instantly and then heads back to his corner.

BASHY: Oh that’s interesting.

TODD: What is?

BASHY: They trust each other.

Violet tries crawling away

Arroyo stomps directly onto the back of her leg, trapping her in place.

Then he calmly DRIVES repeated knees into the side of her head.

BAMA: They’re treating these women like crash test dummies!

Arroyo drags Violet up by the chin and kisses forehead… mocking her.

Then whips her hard into the corner.

Running knee!

Another knee while balancing on the ropes!

Another!

Another!

Violet collapses in a heap.

Arroyo turns and looks directly into the hard cam.

Smiling.

TODD: And remember… Samael Dyson is somewhere watching this.

BASHY: Mm. And I suspect Mister Arroyo wants him to watch every second.

Elektra finally charges in illegally trying to save her partner…

She rushes toward the corner where Arroyo has Violet in a bad way…

BUT A BIG BOOT FROM GRAVES OVER THE TOP ROPE NEARLY TURNS HER INSIDE OUT!!!

The crowd roars.

Graves doesn’t even look at her afterward.

He just grabs the top rope and steps into the ring slowly.

The referee tries forcing him back out…

But now BOTH challengers are standing over the Rollerwhores.

ARROYO GRABS VIOLET - - -

GRAVES GRABS ELEKTRA- - -

STEREO CORNER WHIPS!!!!

Both Rollerwhores crash hard into opposite turnbuckles.

Then Graves and Arroyo simultaneously charge.

RUNNING STO IN ONE CORNER!

CORNER SPLASH IN THE OTHER!

The challengers immediately switch targets afterward like they practiced this for years.

BAMA: WAIT A SECOND! These dudes only teamed one time before tonight!

TODD: You wouldn’t know it watching this!

Graves scoops Elektra up…

GRAVE DIGGER!!!!!!

Arroyo cracks Violet in the skull with a beautiful roundhouse kick!

SHES OUT COLD!

The Rollerwhores are completely unraveling now.

Elektra coughs violently trying to stand.

Mist.

GREEN.

Directly to the face.

TODD: OH NO!

BAMA: THE MIST!

Elektra screams, clawing blindly at her face while stumbling around the ring.

Straight into Arroyo's waiting arms.

He cradles her head in position, and plants a deep, slow, wet kiss on her mouth

BASHY: Yessss…

ROMEO’S LAMENT!

ARROYO SPIKES HER HEAD FROM THE CANVAS WITH THE SWINGING DDT

The crowd groans at how nasty it looks.

Violet staggers to her feet and desperately swings at Graves…

BLACK MIST!!!!

The arena erupts.

TODD: BLACK MIST?!

BASHY: Oh dear.

Violet collapses to her knees screaming

Graves grabs her by the throat and drags her upright, and shoves her head between his knees…

He lifts her up

Turning her into a human crucifix on his shoulders…

GRAVE CONSEQUENCES!!!!

He plants her on the mat right next to Elektra

Then rather than pinning immediately…

Graves just looks at Arroyo.

Arroyo nods.

The two men step forward together.

Arroyo places a boot on Elektra’s chest.

Graves places one on Violet’s.

TODD: Now, Bashy… I thought this match was supposed to stick to clean tags..

BASHY: There’s been nothing clean about this match since the onset, darling. The way I see it, the Rollerwhores are getting a bit of what they deserve

The referee counts.

1!

2!!

3!!!

WINNERS - AND NEW ANARCHY TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS - MICHAEL GRAVES & KRISTOFFER ARROYO

BAMA: BABY THEY JUST RAN THROUGH THE CHAMPS!

TODD: New Anarchy Tag Team Champions!

BASHY: …oh, I adore them.

The crowd gives a thunderous mixed reaction as Arroyo and Graves stand motionless over the fallen Rollerwhores.

The referee cautiously hands them the Anarchy Tag Team Championships.

Arroyo takes one belt.

Graves takes the other.

Graves stares down at the faceplate for a long moment.

Then slings it over his shoulder carelessly.

TODD: Michael Graves has reclaimed championship gold in XWF.

BASHY: And rather alarmingly… it suits him even better this time.

Arroyo slowly turns toward the camera.

Toward wherever Samael Dyson may be watching.

And drags his thumb slowly across his own throat.

TODD: Leap of Faith is coming.

BAMA: And if I’m Samael Dyson?

BASHY: You soil yourself.

XWF Anarchy fades to black as Arroyo and Graves raise their newly won championships in the air.

Thank you to our match writers!
Peter Principle
Bobby Bourbon

And to our segment writers!
Sam Dyson
Micheal Graves
Chef Dom
XXXVI

]]>

XWF Anarchy
[Image: vuE1ZV0.png]

05 - 14 - 2026

LIVE FROM KEZAR PAVILION!

SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA

TODD: …Whole lotta time spent on her entering…

BAMA: Gotta build that suspense, Toddy baby! Wait until the crowds begging for her… then deliver![/white]

…

The Time is now hit's as he walks out on stage. “The Surgeon of Thug” John Blade 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 platform!

[blue]TODD: John Blade! The Surgeon of Thug! He and Hixx both looked absolutely dominant ambushing Mark ‘The Dragon’ Cross!

BAMA: Cross got crossed up by Hixx and Blade! When he tried to make a comeback, Blade kicked Hixx into him… which setup that Death Valley Driver to the outside! But, while Blade wanted to continue the two-on-one beatdown, Hixx saw her chance, caught Blade with her patent bicycle kick, and scored the win!

TODD: Blade took his eye off the ball last Warfare, Bama! But tonight he and Latoya are on the same side! They either win together or they lose together! And if their opponent has his way, it’s going to be a loss! Can the Surgeon of the Thug operate his way to a win tonight?[/white]

John 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![/align]

…

JOHN BLADE, LATOYA HIXX & DEENA HIXX
- vs -
“SLICK” RICK JAMES
HANDICAP TAG MATCH
10 Minute Time Limit

Winner: ‘Slick’ Ric James

TODD: WOW! What a victory by Slick Ric! Not many people could take out three members of the Chain Gang at once! But the Stuntman pulls it off! And he did it with style!

BETSY GRANGER & GCC's DOM DURANGO™
- vs -
MARISOL VILARO & SIR LIONEL PENNYFATHERING

THE HELPING HANDS MIXED TAG BASHTACULAR

15 Minute Time Limit.

WINNERS - Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing & Marisol Vilaro

DICKIE WATSON
- vs -
JENNY MYST

20 Minute Time Limit.

WINNER: DICKIE WATSON

Slice.

The entire kitchen staff turn toward Graves.

WHAM!

A baking tray cracks across the back of his head.

Another mascot tackles him into a prep table as ingredients go flying.

CRASH!

CLANG!

"I'LL KILL..."

CLANG!

YOU BIG HEADED...

CLANG!

Dom smiles down at him.

"...I'd return-ah the favor on yours-ah."

One mascot chef raises a rolling pin.

SMACK—right across the top of Graves skull!

“To Terminate Union Membership and Banish From The XTreme Wrestling Federation: Samael Dyson?”

YES: 59.6%
NO: 40.4%

MR. OZ

- vs -

SUMMER PAGE

-#2 Contender Grudge Match-

The winner of this match will be ADDED to the Revolution Championship match between Granger and Kline

25 Minute Time Limit

Winner: ‘Spoiled’ Summer Page

THE ROLLERWHORES © w/ Samael Dyson
- vs -
KRISTOFFER “VAMP” ARROYO & MICHAEL GRAVES

Anarchy Tag Team Championships
30 Minute Time Limit

WINNERS - AND NEW ANARCHY TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS - MICHAEL GRAVES & KRISTOFFER ARROYO

Thank you to our match writers!
Peter Principle
Bobby Bourbon

And to our segment writers!
Sam Dyson
Micheal Graves
Chef Dom
XXXVI

]]> <![CDATA[ANARCHY 04-30-2026]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=50057 Sat, 02 May 2026 17:04:46 -0700 Peter Principle]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=50057

XWF Anarchy
[Image: vuE1ZV0.png]

04 - 30 - 2026

LIVE FROM THE OAKLAND COLISEUM ARENA!

OAKLAND, CALIFORNIA

MISS FURRY ©
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX

NON-TITLE MATCH!

RAZOR BLADE
- vs -
BOBBY SALES
- vs -
MARISOL VILARO

TRIPLE THREAT!

FRANCES MARIGOLD
- vs -
KRISTOFFER 'VAMP' ARROYO

FIRST BLOOD MATCH!

MR. OZ
- vs -
SOLOMON KLINE
- vs -
SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
REGGIE ESTRADA

#1 CONTENDER'S X-TREME RULES ELIMINATION MATCH!

The winner of this elimination match will become the #1 contender to the Revolution Championship! No count-outs, no DQs, and no mercy!

JENNY MYST
- vs -
XXXVI

#1 CONTENDER'S LADDER MATCH!

A contract for a shot at the Anarchy Championship is hanging in a briefcase above the ring. Whoever retrieves the contract, will become the new #1 contender to the Anarchy Championship!

JOHN BLADE
- vs -
BETSY GRANGER ©

FRIENDS OF JOHN BLADE MATCH!

A modified lumberjack match! Deena Hixx, Latoya Hixx, Razor Blade, and El Landerson will be acting as lumberjacks outside the ring.

If John Blade wins, he becomes the new Revolution Champion!

If Betsy Granger wins, no one present at ringside can ever challenger her for the Revolution Championship again!

The arena is bathed in a deep red light that brings out the shadows in every nook and cranny as "Deep Set" by Greg Puciato starts to play. Kristoffer Arroyo steps through the entrance way, looking cool and confident behind is bright pink shades. He saunters down to the ring, taking his time and seeming to savor the moment before suddenly exploding into a slide into the ring. He then steps through the ropes onto the ring apron, where he wraps his legs around the middle rope and hangs himself upside down with his arms outstretched like an inverted cross. He smiles for the camera, revealing long sharpened incisors, before sitting up and rolling up and over the top rope and to the canvas. Kris calls for a mic after all that pageantry and gets one in short order.

Greetings ladies and gentlebeings. I have an important announcement to make.

He pauses for effect.

I’m gonna murder the fuck out of Samael Dyson.

HUGE POP FROM THE CROWD!

Kris smirks at the response.

And I, along with my esteemed colleague Michael Graves, are going to start with the Rollerwhores on the very next episode of Anarchy. Although, I’ve heard a vicious, vicious rumor. You see, I’ve heard that Samael and his associates are boycotting defending their titles until the powers that be can guarantee their safety from me.

A round of boos!

I mean…heh…they’re RIGHT to! But that doesn’t make for very entertaining television now does it? Which is why I’d like to summon BIG DICK LICHTER out to the ring to tell us all what he plans to do about that. Dick? Are you listening?

There is a few moments pause, but then the opening theme to Anarchy hits and Bid Dick Lichter appears! He makes his way down to the ring (takes him a bit longer mind you) and stomps confidently up the ring steps until he gets in the ring. Already with a mic in hand, Lichter starts to speak.

Oh, I hear you big man! I hear you! And I think I have a solution to this little dilemma that you’re gonna like. And it goes a little something like this: If the Rollerwhores no show their title defense on the next episode of Anarchy, they are hereby STRIPPED of the titles, and they will be awarded automatically to you, sir, and Michael Graves!

The fans pop and Kris nods his head in appreciation. Big Dick holds up a pudgy little finger, implying he isn’t done.

Furthermore! If the Rollerwhores no show, they and Samael Dyson are all banned from Anarchy FOREVER!

Another big pop from the crowd!

Samael Dyson, listen up! The Anarchy Tag Titles arent like those OTHER tag titles. We DEFEND our tag team championships here on Anarchy! So if you want a hope in hell of retaining, you’ll make sure your girls bring their pretty little asses to the show in two weeks, or suffer the consequences! As for you Vamp….

Big Dick turns to Kris, who quirks an eyebrow.

I know you’re hoppin’ mad about getting shot in the head. Hell, I would be too. BUT! I cannot allow you to KILL anyone on my show! I mean, the insurance premiums will go through the fucking roof! The advertisers will revolt!

This draws a smattering of boos from the crowd.

So I need you to promise me: NO MURDER!

Kris looks to the crowd with a distinctly unimpressed expression before turning back to Dick.

[pink}Okay Dick, I solemnly swear not to kill anyone….on XWF property. [/pink]

Dick shoots Kris a side eye at first before offering his hand up for a handshake.

Works for me.

Kris and Dick shake hands and then Dick gestures to Kris, driving up some pops for him as Kris goes to the corner turnbuckle and gesticulates to the fans, pantomiming a title around his waste.

TODD: Folks, welcome to another edition of Thursday Night Anarchy! We’re kicking things off with an absolute banger!

BAMA: There’s no denying it, Toddrick! The current Anarchy champion has had nine lives in terms of claiming unlikely wins over some very game competitors! But now, she’s not stepping into the ring with a wrestler. This kitty’s wandering in to the EYE OF THE STORM!

TODD: …This entrance sure takes a while.

BAMA: And the Mona Lisa sure took a lot of strokes, pipe down Toddy baby, I’m trying to drink it in…

TODD: What a year for Latoya Hixx! This year she’s claimined her first PPV victory and she’s actually won a few number one contender’s match to vie for championships belts!

BAMA: Latoya’s stock has certainly risen, Toddrick! That’s why she was given this match. And while it is non-title, one must believe if and WHEN Latoya gets the job done, she’ll be handed the Anarchy title?

TODD: Handed the belt, Bama? You’re not even thinking she’ll get a championship match? They’ll just give her the belt?

BAMA: It goes without saying I assume she’s going to take all of Miss Furry’s nine lives in this match!

…

The lights dim as the opening drums of She's My Collar roll through the arena. Miss Furry steps out slowly, but doesn’t acknowledge the crowd.

TODD: Not nearly as much pomp and circumstance as Latoya Hixx’s entrance, but you cannot deny the results! Miss Furry has gone undefeated in her Anarchy run, managing to pin Mister Oz and even claiming a win over an XWF Legend in Centurion at March Madness!

BAMA: It’s been a Cinderella run for sure, Toddrick. But in every cinderella run, the clock has to strike midnight and the cat carriage’s gotta turn back into a litterbox. Furry’s gotten some big wins in some novelty matches, but now, she’s going one-on-one, mano e mano with THE STORM!

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.

MISS FURRY ©
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX

NON-TITLE MATCH!

HIGHLIGHT REEL

Storm looks like at the half-pint wrestler with much less musculature and physique than her and scoffs… She steps to the center of the ring and flexes her bice-

WHAM! Furry steps up and delivers a dropkick straight to the chin of the Latoya Hixx!

Latoya staggers two full steps back but keeps her footing… She pats her chin like… there’s no way this dead bitch just did that.

TODD: Furry showing no fear here! She’s had her successes in the XWF, not because she’s unbeatable, because she sees her opportunities and she takes full advantage of them! And she saw an opportunity there for a quick strike to the Storm!

Furry does a backward somersault from the mat to quickly and agilely return to a vertical ba-

THWACK! Latoya sprints forward with a decapitating lariat!

Furry does two full rotations in mid-air before landing on her face on the mat!

BAMA: And here I thought cats were supposed to land on their feet! Look at the strength! The sheer power that is Latoya Hixx in the ring!

Latoya Hixx pulls Furry up with a fistful of hair before shoving her back against the corner! Furry’s skull rebounds against the turnbuckle!

Hixx pumps her fist in the air before charging in with a…

RUNNING BOOT TO THE CORNER!

…But Furry dives low!

And Hixx’s boot propels over the turnbuckle, crotching her along the top rope!

TODD: Ouch! Latoya looked like an NFL punter looking to set a record for distance! But Miss Furry had other ideas!

Hixx tries to retrieve her leg back from the ropes…

But not before she pulls a…

NECKBREAKER! Dragging Latoya from the turnbuckle back down to the mat!

TODD: Wow! That was an impressive maneuver! All technique! Maybe Micheal Graves does actually teach his students something!

Latoya cradles her neck, writhing on the mat as Furry crawls over her and into the cover!

ONE!

TW-LATOYA KICKS OUT AT ONE!

BAMA: Shoulda known that wouldn’t be enough! You can’t put down a storm, ya just gotta weather it until it consumes ya!

Miss Furry curls like a feline eyeing a larger than usual prey, as she skulks over Latoya…

Latoya’s already powering up to one knee…

TODD: Latoya’s looking mad that she even let Furry score a one-count on her!

BAMA: And now that kitty is going to get de-clawed!

Latoya tries to shove her back off the mat to a vertical base!

But Furry stops her as she rises with a…

SHOOT KICK TO THE CHEST!

Another!

Another!

The sharp strikes echo through the arena as Latoya absorbs them, each one knocking her back another inch!

TODD: Furry clawing at Hixx with those kicks! Each one has to be sapping the life out o-

Until Hixx suddenly SNATCHES the fourth kick out of midair!

[blue]TODD: Uh oh!

BAMA: Think ya mighta spoke too soon there, Toddrick!

Furry’s eyes widen—

Latoya YANKS her straight up into the air with frightening ease!

MILITARY PRESS POSITION! Latoya has hoisted Furry over her head like Hixx is an adult playing with a child!

The crowd gasps as Furry’s body rises nearly overhead!

BAMA: THERE IT IS! THAT’S THAT STORM STRENGTH! THE STORM IS A BREWING AND FURRY’S GOTTA GET SET TO GET WET!

Furry twists wildly in her grip, trying to escape—

But Latoya walks her toward the center of the ring…

AND THROWS HER HALFWAY ACROSS IT!

Furry crashes hard across the canvas and tumbles underneath the bottom rope to the outside floor!

TODD: Good LORD! Latoya launched the Anarchy champion!

BAMA: Like a category five wind hurling a stopsign through a car windshield!

The referee begins his count as Latoya paces in the ring, fired up now, adrenaline coursing through her veins.

FOUR!

FIVE!

Outside, Furry pulls herself up using the apron. Her back is clearly bothering her after the landing.

Latoya sneers angrily… She goes to exit the ring, but the official blocks her with his body, continuing to count!

SIX!

SEV-

FWOOP! Latoya SHOVES the official into the ropes and out of her way!

BAMA: No one wants to be in the Storm’s way tonight, Toddrick!

Before the official even has time to admonish Latoya, Hixx is already sprinting back off the ropes!

Furry’s upright and watching as Hixx immediately explodes toward her!

SUICIDE LARIAT THROUGH THE ROPES!

…but Furry drops flat to the padded concrete at the last second!

Latoya’s momentum carries her CLEAN THROUGH THE ROPES—

AND SHE SMASHES SHOULDER-FIRST INTO THE BARRICADE!

TODD: AGAIN! AGAIN Miss Furry uses Latoya’s aggression against her!

BAMA: That barricade might have moved three feet from that impact!

Latoya stumbles backward clutching her shoulder—

Furry springs onto the apron from the floor like a cat leaping across a bookshelf…

Latoya squeezes her shoulder, still in pain as Furry grabs the ropes, giving herself a beat to steady her footing!

BAMA: What the hell is that alley cat about to try here, Toddrick!?!

Furry takes a deep breath…

As Latoya finally untangles herself out of the barricade…

Furry… LEAPS off the apron to the second rope!

…And backflips off it!

SPRINGBOARD MOONSAULT TO THE FLOOR!

CRASH! Both women hit hard on the outside!

TODD: HOLY SHIT! I didn’t know Furry had a move like that in her!

For a little while, both Furry and Hixx lay on the outside… but Furry is first to rise, scrambling up first, clutching at Latoya’s arm…

TODD: Furry realizes Latoya’s biggest strength is… well, her strength! And she’s trying to weaken Latoya’s arms to prevent the Storm from tossing her around any longer!

Furry SLAMS Hixx’s shoulder repeatedly against the barricade!

THUNK!

THUNK!

THUNK!

[blue]TODD: There’s that cerebral side to Miss Furry! Working to neutralize the power advantage!

Furry traps the arm over the barricade and pulls back viciously, stretching the shoulder joint!

Latoya roars in pain and swings wildly with her free arm—

But Furry slips underneath it!

LOW DROPKICK TO THE KNEE!

Latoya collapses down to one knee beside the barricade!

TODD: I don’t think anyone could have seen this coming, but so far, Miss Furry has taken a clear advantage against Latoya!

Latoya manages to SHOVE Furry away long enough to hopefully recover

Furry sees her opening, using the momentum from Latoya’s shove to sprint back toward the apron—

She leaps!

TODD: Miss Furry! Possibly seeking another aerial maneuver here![/blue

RUNNING METEORA OFF THE APRON—

NO!

LATOYA CATCHES HER IN MID-AIR!

The audience erupts!

[blue]TODD: HOW DID SHE DO THAT?!

Furry desperately claws at Latoya’s face trying to escape—

But Latoya growls through it, muscles bulging as she adjusts her grip…

RUNNING POWERSLAM! ON THE OUTSIDE FLOOR!

The impact is disgusting.

Furry bounces off the thin padding and crumples into a heap.

Even Latoya looks a little stunned by the sheer violence of it.

BAMA: THAT’S the Eye of the Storm, baby! That right there!

Latoya rolls her opponents under the bottom rope, following her into the ring…

Furry squeezes her aching shoulder, rolling over and over until she’s beside the ropes…

Latoya sneers confidently, following Miss Furry as she pitifully retreats, before stopping on the other side of the ring. Latoya flexes as she plants a boot on Furry’s chest!

The official counts!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

BAMA: HAHA! Latoya did it! She beat the Anarchy champion!

…

Wait no!

Furry managed to slide her foot under the rope!

TODD: More cerebral work by the Anarchy champion! She broke the pinfall in such a way that I think Latoya doesn’t realize she didn’t just win! Furry has a little time to recover here!

Latoya raises her arms, flexing to the crowd, as the official shakes his head, trying to explain why the match must continue…

Meanwhile, Furry cradles her gut, slowly rising to one knee…

Latoya turns around… as the official finally manages to get her to understand that she hasn’t won yet! Her eyes contort with fury as she spins back toward Furry…

BAMA: Lotta good that rope break did! Furry still looks like the cat that got eaten by a giant canary!

Furry’s blinking… breathing heavily… looking like she’s out on her feet… Or she would if she wasn’t on her knees…

Latoya smirks confidently as she goes to squeezes Furry in a Bear Hug!

…

But Furry manages to trap Latoya in a side headlock!

INSIDE CRADLE!

TODD: That’s the 9th Life! Furry was playing possum!

BAMA: I thought she was a feline! Not a rodent!

ONE!

TWO!

THR-NO! Latoya forces a shoulder up!

Latoya reels back against the ropes as Furry rises up, having found her second wind!

Latoya springs off the ropes looking for a match-ending…

BICYCLE KICK!

…

But Furry ducks it!

Latoya turns around as Furry leaps!

NINE LIVES LOST! (Cutter!)

TODD: OH MY GOD! FURRY HIT IT!

Hixx’s skull rebounds HARD off the mat as she springs onto her back, mouth agape, eyes staring at the rafters…

Furry doesn’t waste a second hooking the leg!

The official counts!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

Winner: Miss Furry!

TODD: What a victory! Latoya Hixx used her size and strength advantage masterfully! But while Latoya could outpower Furry, she couldn’t outthink Furry! THAT is why she’s the Anarchy champ and she just proved it with a very impressive win!

The lights goes out and hear a voice saying Wrestling has one royal family and when Kingdom hit's fireworks burst open and Razor Blade comes out wearing a American nightmare outfit and left his arms in the mid air and fist pumps in a fake air and he saw a kid wearing a Blake shirt and he takes off his American nightmare belt off his waist in hands it to the XWF fan and climbs up the steps in hops on the turnbuckle and raises both arms in the air and more fireworks burst once again and he gets inside of the ring and climbs on the top rope taunts some more and gets down and takes off his American nightmare jacket and prepares for a fight

Bobby cripwalks his way to the ring.

The sythinzied beat of Shake it Off By Taylor Swift begins to play over the public address system, as the opening lyrics soon begin, as the fans boo and flashes going off, people are waiting for the arrival of the Fitness Queen herself.

I stay out too late
Got nothing in my brain
That's what people say, mm-mm
That's what people say, mm-mm

As a spotlight is on the entrance ramp and the lights dim, first stepping out is none other than the legendary Snarktopus Nessa Wall, who smiles brightly before trash talking the fans as she smiles, before ordering a couple of stage hands to come out they each have a mirror in hand they face the entrance ramp, as soon out from the back steps La Marvillosa herself Marisol Vilaro.

I go on too many dates
But I can't make 'em stay
At least that's what people say, mm-mm
That's what people say, mm-mm

Marisol stops to admire herself in each mirror posing and showing off, what her hard work has given her and mouthing about how she’s the inspiration these out-of-shape people need. After a few moments of posing she brushes right past, giving her manager/mentor a hug before they head off with Nessa leading the way taking the time to give the fans at ringside a hard time for even trying to touch them.

But I keep cruisin'
Can't stop, won't stop movin'
It's like I got this music in my mind
Sayin' it's gonna be alright

Marisol herself takes the time to pose some more showing off her muscle, and trying to sell them on the VilaroFit mission, and how they need it to improve themselves, As the devious duo soon make their way toward the ring side area Nessa soon goes up the ring steps and takes the time to bark orders at the referee, showing him exactly how lower the ropes for herself, and her client, after being lectured by the Ambitchous one, the referee complies doing it exactly as Nessa demanded enters the ring and motions for Marisol to go up the steps, as she climbs up the steps she takes each moment to keep shilling her products, which doesn’t endear her to the fans, as she soon enters the ring under the rope and soon she rudely brushes past the referee as Nessa presents her to the booing fans as she raises her arms high in the air soaking in the boos, and catcalls.

'Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play
And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate
Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off (hoo-hoo-hoo)
Heartbreakers gonna break, break, break, break, break
And the fakers gonna fake, fake, fake, fake, fake
Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off (hoo-hoo-hoo)

Marisol then does a series of poses once again before turning around and gracing the other side of the area raising her arms high in the air and then doing a similar series of poses showing off her physique and how in shape she is. While Nessa claps her client before they head into their corner, and Nessa is getting Marisol psyched and going over the game plan as they wait for the opponent to enter.

DING! DING! DING!

The three competitors step out of their corners slowly, each one sizing up the other two.

They begin to circle, waiting for one to make their move.

Marisol darts in first, feinting toward Razor, then pivoting toward Bobby with a quick low kick. Bobby checks it and swings a heavy right hand, but Marisol slips under it and backs away. Razor steps in behind her and fires a stiff kick to her thigh. Marisol winces and turns—

-and Bobby blasts Razor with a shoulder block that knocks him back a step.

TODD: All three feeling each other out here.

BAMA: Ain’t gonna last long. Someone’s gonna swing for real.

Razor swings first, lunging at Bobby with a looping hook. Bobby ducks under it and grabs Razor around the waist, lifting him for a takedown, but Razor hammers elbows into Bobby’s back until he drops him. Razor fires a quick knee into Bobby’s ribs, then turns—

and Marisol cracks him with a sharp roundhouse kick to the side of the head.

Razor stumbles. Marisol hits the ropes and rebounds with a running dropkick that sends Razor rolling out of the ring.

Bobby steps in behind her and grabs her around the waist, lifting her for a German suplex. Marisol flips out mid‑air and lands behind him, stumbling but upright. Bobby turns—

and Marisol hits a palm strike straight to his jaw.

Bobby staggers back, surprised.

Marisol charges, but Bobby catches her with a sudden scoop slam, planting her hard in the center of the ring. He drops into a quick cover.

ONE!

Marisol kicks out and rolls away.

Razor slides back into the ring and charges Bobby, tackling him into the corner. Razor unloads with rapid‑fire body shots, fists thudding into Bobby’s ribs. Bobby shoves him off, but Razor rushes back in with a running knee to the gut.

Marisol sprints in behind Razor and jumps, hitting a dropkick to Razor’s back that sends him crashing into Bobby again. Bobby stumbles out of the corner, and Marisol grabs him by the head, running up the turnbuckles for a tornado DDT—

—but Bobby plants his feet and blocks it, tossing her off mid‑rotation.

Marisol crashes to the mat, rolling to the apron.

Razor charges Bobby again, but Bobby catches him with a spinebuster that shakes the ring.

TODD: Big impact from Sales!
BAMA: Razor felt that in his soul.

Bobby covers Razor.

ONE!

TWO—

Razor kicks out.

Bobby drags Razor up and whips him into the ropes. Razor rebounds and ducks under a clothesline, hits the opposite ropes, and comes back with a flying forearm that knocks Bobby flat. Razor kips up, the crowd popping as he hits the ropes again and drops a leg across Bobby’s chest.

He covers.

ONE!

TWO—

Marisol dives in and breaks it up.

Razor rises, annoyed, and swings at Marisol. She ducks under it and fires a kick into his ribs, then another, then a spinning back kick that forces Razor to stumble. She grabs Razor’s wrist and whips him toward the ropes, but Razor reverses and sends her running instead.

Marisol rebounds—

—and Bobby Sales steps in and catches her mid‑stride, lifting her into a tilt‑a‑whirl backbreaker.

Marisol arches in pain as Bobby stands over her, smirking.

Razor charges Bobby from behind, but Bobby turns and catches him too, lifting Razor into a fireman’s carry. Razor elbows him repeatedly until he drops him. Razor hits the ropes and rebounds with a running knee—

—but Bobby sidesteps and Razor crashes into the turnbuckles.

Marisol is back up. She sprints toward Bobby and leaps, hitting a flying knee that snaps his head back. Bobby drops to a knee. Marisol hits the ropes again, rebounds, and nails him with a running dropkick that sends him rolling out of the ring.

Razor steps out of the corner and charges Marisol. She ducks under his clothesline and hits a low kick to his calf. Razor drops to one knee. Marisol grabs his head and hits a snap DDT, planting him in the center of the ring.

She covers.

ONE!

TWO—

Razor kicks out.

Marisol rises, breathing hard, shaking out her arms. Razor pushes up slowly, clutching his head. Marisol grabs him and pulls him upright, firing a sharp elbow into his jaw. Razor answers with a forearm. Marisol hits a knee. Razor hits a kick. They trade again, faster, harder, neither backing down.

Bobby slides back into the ring behind them.

He grabs both by the back of the head and smashes their skulls together. Both collapse to the mat. Bobby drags Razor up first, lifting him into a vertical suplex and holding him there for a long moment before dropping him hard.

Marisol rises behind him and jumps onto Bobby’s back, locking in a sleeper hold. Bobby thrashes, trying to shake her off, but Marisol tightens her grip, legs wrapped around his waist.

Razor rises and sees the opening. He charges and hits a running dropkick to Bobby’s chest. The impact sends Bobby crashing backward, crushing Marisol beneath him.

All three are down.

TODD: Bodies everywhere!

BAMA: That’s a car crash, Todd. A beautiful one.

Razor is the first to rise, shaking out his arms. He grabs Marisol and pulls her up, whipping her into the ropes. She rebounds and Razor leaps for a flying knee—

—but Marisol slides under him and pops up behind him, hitting a sharp kick to the back of his leg. Razor drops to one knee. Marisol hits the ropes and rebounds with a running knee to the side of his head.

Razor collapses.

Marisol covers.

ONE!

TWO—

Bobby Sales yanks her off by the ankle.

Marisol spins and kicks him in the face from the mat. Bobby stumbles back. Marisol kips up and charges him, firing a flurry of strikes—kicks, elbows, knees—each one landing clean.

Bobby swings a heavy fist. Marisol ducks under it and hits a spinning back kick to his ribs. Bobby doubles over. Marisol hits the ropes—

—but Razor Blade intercepts her with a running clothesline that flips her inside out.

Razor covers her.

ONE!

TWO!

Bobby breaks it up with a stomp to Razor’s back.

Razor rises and shoves Bobby. Bobby shoves him back. Razor swings. Bobby blocks it and fires a right hand. Razor answers with a knee. Bobby hits a forearm. Razor hits a kick. They trade, the crowd roaring with every strike.

Marisol rises behind them.

She sprints toward both men—

—and hits a double dropkick, sending Razor and Bobby flying in opposite directions.

The crowd erupts.

Marisol rises, chest heaving, eyes locked on both opponents.

Razor pushes up first, clutching his ribs. Marisol charges him and hits a running knee that sends him collapsing into the ropes. Bobby rises next, shaking out his jaw. Marisol turns toward him—

—and Bobby swings for a lariat.

Marisol ducks under it, grabs his arm, and pulls him into a snap STO, planting him hard.

Razor stumbles out of the corner.

Marisol sees him.

She steps in, hooks his head, and drives him down with La Mala Influencia!

Razor is out.

Marisol covers.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

WINNER - MARISOL VILARO

Marisol Vilaró rises to her feet, exhausted but victorious, the crowd roaring as her hand is raised.

TODD: MARISOL VILAROMAXXED HER WHY TO A WELL DESERVED WIN!blue]

[blue]BAMA: She earned every second of that, Toddy. Hell of a fight.

Marisol stands tall in the center of the ring, breathing hard, sweat dripping, but smiling — the winner of a brutal, competitive triple threat.

Frances Marigold stumbles out onto the stage.

He’s already got a cigarette hanging from his lips, lighter flicking as he walks. He takes a drag mid-stride, exhales, and squints down at the ring like he’s mildly inconvenienced to be here at all.

Todd: "And here we go… First Blood Match. The only way to win is to make your opponent bleed."

Bama T: "And you got a vampire in one corner. I don’t know, Todd, that feels like a built-in advantage."

Frances flicks the cigarette to the side… then immediately pulls another one from behind his ear and lights it as he walks down the ramp.

Todd: "I don’t even know if Frances Marigold fully understands the danger he’s walking into right now."

Bama T: "Or maybe he just doesn’t care. That’s sometimes worse."

Frances rolls into the ring, takes another drag, and casually leans back in the corner.

FRANCES MARIGOLD
- vs -
KRISTOFFER 'VAMP' ARROYO

FIRST BLOOD MATCH!

Highlight Reel

DING DING

Kristoffer explodes with a running knee straight to Frances’ face, snapping his head back into the turnbuckles.

Todd: "AND ARROYO WASTES NO TIME!"

Frances collapses forward, barely conscious already as Kristoffer grabs him by the hair and DRIVES repeated forearms into his skull.

Once. Twice. Again. Again.

Frances drops to a knee.

Kristoffer tilts his head, studying him… then delivers a vicious kick to the side of the head that sends Frances sprawling.

Bama T: "This might be quick. I’m not even joking."

Kristoffer kneels beside him, almost methodical now, dragging his fingernails across Frances’ forehead, trying to break skin.

Frances weakly swats at him—

Kristoffer grabs his wrist and STOMPS it into the mat.

Frances howls.

Todd: "He’s not even trying to pin him—he’s just trying to open him up!"

Bama T: "That’s the match, Todd! First one to bleed loses—and Kristoffer looks like he’s enjoying the process a little too much."

Kristoffer pulls Frances up—

European uppercut.

Frances staggers.

Another.

Frances drops to a knee again.

Kristoffer runs the ropes—

BASEMENT DROPKICK right to the face.

Frances rolls to the outside, clutching his head.

Kristoffer doesn’t rush. He steps through the ropes, slow, deliberate, like a predator stalking something already dying.

Frances leans against the barricade, fumbling in his pocket—

He pulls out a flask.

Takes a swig.

Todd: "You’ve got to be kidding me!"

Bama T: "Hydration is important!"

Kristoffer reaches him—GRABS the flask—and SMASHES it across Frances’ forehead.

The crowd gasps.

Frances drops.

Kristoffer immediately leans in, checking—

No blood.

Todd: "HOW is he not bleeding?!"

Kristoffer’s expression changes slightly. Irritation.

He grabs Frances and throws him back into the ring.

Slides in after him.

Grabs him by the jaw—fingers digging into his mouth—trying to tear at the lips, the gums—

Frances bites down.

Hard.

Kristoffer recoils slightly.

Bama T: "Oh! He got him!"

Frances rolls away, coughing, then slowly pulls himself up using the ropes.

Kristoffer charges—

Frances sidesteps—

Kristoffer hits the turnbuckles—

Frances grabs his head—

and SMASHES it backward into the post.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

The crowd starts to stir.

Todd: "Wait a second…!"

Frances stumbles back, reaches into his coat—

pulls out a pack of cigarettes.

And a lighter.

He lights one mid-match again, hands shaking.

Takes a drag.

Then—

JAMS the lit cigarette into Kristoffer’s eye.

Kristoffer SCREAMS, staggering backward.

Bama T: "OH MY GOD! THAT’S DISGUSTING!"

Todd: "BUT EFFECTIVE!"

Frances follows up—wild, sloppy punches, more like bar fight swings than wrestling strikes—but they’re landing.

Kristoffer stumbles.

Frances grabs him—

DDT.

Both men are down.

Frances crawls over, breathing heavy, takes another drag from the cigarette—

and flicks it aside onto Kristoffer’s chest.

Bama T: "This man is unbelievable."

Kristoffer sits up suddenly.

Frances freezes.

Kristoffer grabs him by the throat—

LIFTS him—

and SLAMS him down with a chokeslam.

Todd: "Arroyo right back in control!"

Kristoffer kneels over him again, more aggressive now. He claws at Frances’ forehead, digging, scraping—

Still no blood.

He roars in frustration.

Grabs Frances and throws him into the ropes—

BIG BOOT.

Frances flips inside out.

Bama T: "I don’t understand it! He should be bleeding by now!"

Kristoffer drags him to the corner and begins grinding his face against the ropes, trying to split skin.

The referee leans in—

Still nothing.

Frances is barely conscious.

Kristoffer pulls him up one more time—

goes for another strike—

Frances suddenly spits something into his face—

A mist of alcohol.

Kristoffer recoils instinctively—

Frances fumbles with the lighter—

FLICK.

A burst of flame flashes between them—not a full fireball, but enough to send Kristoffer stumbling back in shock.

The crowd ERUPTS.

Todd: "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"

Bama T: "HE JUST BREATHED FIRE?!"

Kristoffer clutches his face, disoriented—

Frances charges—

HEADBUTT.

A brutal, skull-on-skull crack.

Both men drop.

Silence for half a second.

Then—

The referee leans in.

Checks Kristoffer.

Then signals wildly.

The bell rings.

DING DING DING

Todd: "WAIT—WHAT?!"

Bama T: "NO WAY—NO WAY!"

Kristoffer rolls onto his back—

A thin stream of blood trickles from his forehead, just at the hairline.

Frances… is not bleeding.

Winner: FRANCES MARIGOLD

Todd: "FRANCES MARIGOLD JUST WON THIS MATCH!"

Bama T: "THAT IS A ROBBERY—NO—THAT IS A MIRACLE!"

Frances slowly sits up, wiping his own face, checking for blood.

Nothing.

He looks over at Kristoffer.

Sees the blood.

Then just… laughs.

He pulls out another cigarette with shaky hands, lights it, and raises it like a victory cigar.

Todd: "Against all odds… against a man who looked unstoppable… Frances Marigold just pulled off one of the biggest upsets we’ve ever seen!"

Bama T: "I don’t know if he’s tough, lucky, or too drunk to bleed… but it worked!"

Todd: I know we might be stunned here, but this result begs the question: Is Frances Marigold even more dangerous than anyone in the XWF realized? Afterall, he said in his promo that First Blood was just how the fight begins where he comes from. And against a man as talented as Arroyo, it took Frances one -literally one- freaking headbutt to win this match! Proving that maybe there’s something to his minimalist approach.

Bama: The XWF should be on high alert with this maniac. That’s for sure, baby!

Kristoffer sits up slowly, staring at the blood on his hand, disbelief in his eyes.

Frances leans back in the corner, smoking, grinning like a mad man. Nodding at Kristoffer as if to say “I told ya’ so”

The arena lights dim slightly as the bass drops.“WIN” by Jay Rock hits, and the Oakland crowd immediately reacts with a loud mix of cheers and energy. A spotlight hits the stage and Ric James steps out. Slick Ric.

He stands there for a second, calm… composed… scanning the crowd like he’s already measuring the moment. He adjusts his jacket, nodding to the beat, then starts walking down the ramp with that smooth bounce talking to himself, pointing at fans, soaking in every reaction.

Bama: “There he is! Slick Ric James! I told you, Todd, this man made a statement his first night even in a loss.”

Todd: “No doubt about that, but Marisol Vilaro stole that one late.”

Bama: “Stole it is RIGHT, Todd!”

Ric reaches ringside, takes the steps, wipes his feet, and steps into the ring clean. He spins once in the center, arms slightly out, soaking in the energy before calling for a mic. His music fades. The crowd is still buzzing. Ric smirks… nods. Then raises the mic.

Ric James: Let me put y’all on game real quick…

He slowly paces the ring, head nodding as the crowd reacts.

Ric James: You ever walk into somethin’… and KNOW… you supposed to leave with it?

He taps his chest, eyes scanning the crowd.

Ric James: I walked into Anarchy in my first night in the XWF and I felt it.

He looks up toward the lights, then back to the crowd.

Ric James: I felt the energy… I felt the moment… I felt that spotlight hittin’ me like it been waitin’ on me my whole life.

A grin creeps across his face.

Ric James: And then what happened?

He pauses.

Ric James: Somebody got slick.

The crowd reacts. Ric nods slowly, almost amused.

Ric James: Marisol… I ain’t even mad at you playa, game recognize game.

He shrugs, pacing again.

Ric James: That was a veteran move. I see it… I respect it…

He stops dead center in the ring.

Ric James: But don’t get it twisted, That wasn’t your moment.

A pause.

Ric James: That was mine.

The crowd pops.

Ric James: Y’all saw it.

He points out into the crowd.

Ric James: Back to back Scene Stealers… bodies droppin’… people laid out…

He smirks.

Ric James: I was cookin’ in that ring.

Bama: “Talk your talk!”

Ric nods, pacing again.

Ric James: “But see… that’s the game.

He shrugs slightly.

Ric James: You can dominate… you can shine But if you don’t finish the job?”

He drops his arms.

Ric James: Somebody else will.

A brief pause. Then he smiles again.

Ric James: And that’s alright, Because I ain’t walk outta that match empty-handed.

He points to himself.

Ric James: “I walked out with somethin’ way more dangerous and that’s Momentum.

The crowd reacts louder. Ric’s energy starts building.

Ric James: And now…

He spreads his arms wide.

Ric James: The whole world know, Slick Ric James is HERE, BITCH!

Big reaction.

Ric James: And I ain’t slowin’ down for nobody.

He bounces lightly on his feet.

Ric James: This ain’t no one-stop ride…

He points down like a track.

Ric James: This Soul Train?

He grins.

Ric James: It’s rollin’… and it ain’t stoppin’ ‘til it hit the top.

He raises one finger.

Ric James: And at the top?

He taps his chest.

Ric James: The Soul King…

Another tap.

Ric James: Mr. Super Fly…

He leans toward the hard cam.

Ric James: Slick Ric James…

A pause.

Ric James: “XWF Anarchy Champion.”

Crowd buzz grows.

Ric James: That’s the goal.

He nods.

Ric James: That’s what I came for.

He shrugs.

Ric James: Everything else?

A smirk.

Ric James: That’s just extra.

He starts pacing again, intensity rising.

Ric James: “But I know I got somethin’ to prove. So here’s what we gon’ do.

He raises the mic slightly.

Ric James: “I’m throwin’ out an open challenge.”

Crowd perks up.

Ric James: To ANY champion.

He looks left… then right.

Ric James: I don’t care what title you hold… I don’t care where you from… I don’t care how long you been doin’ this…

He leans forward.

Ric James: Step in this ring with me.

A pause.

Ric James: Non-title.

He nods.

Ric James: Let’s really see where I’m at in this peckin’ order… you dig?

He smirks.

Ric James: So in two weeks, Let’s see if any so-called champ…

A pause.

Ric James: stand on business!

He drops the mic.

THUD. His music hits again.

Bama: “OOOOH! He just called out the whole champion roster!”

Todd: “That’s a dangerous move, Bama but if his debut showed anything, it’s that Ric James can hang with anyone!”

Ric stands tall in the center of the ring, nodding, soaking in the reaction as the crowd continues to buzz.

TODD: Well, up next Bama we have a match with tremendous stakes! Four of the top competitors on the Anarchy brand will be duking it out in an elimination contest to determine the new number-one contender to Betsy Granger’s Revolution Championship!

BAMA: Yeah, you ain’t lyin, baby! Except it might not even be Betsy Granger’s championship anymore after our main event tonight, where she takes on the always game Johnny Blaaaade.

TODD: I would assume that one could clean up quite well on the betting markets if John Blade were to pull that one out, but I suppose you never quite know. But what we do know, however, is whoever the champion is after tonight, they’re going to have one tough contender chasing down their gold given this field we have tonight.

Mr. Oz
Solomon Kline
Reggie Estrada

All three of those men have held championships at the highest levels on both brands. And the fourth? Summer Page? She has proven time in and time out to be one of the more underrated, and capable competitors on our roster.

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. 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.

We see on the walkway, where the camera pans to the entrance, as soon as the beat drops we see Reggie walking down out to the song. He stares at the crowd, who gives him mix reactions as he walks down to the ring, then he gets to the steel steps, but looks at the crowd some more. Then he climbs up to it, and get into the ring. Camera cuts to various fan signs that either love or hate Reggie, then it cuts to him going on the corner to raise his fist and talk some trash, then he gets down and stand in the ring as his theme cuts off.

S&M By Rhianna will play throughout the arena as the crowd cheers while Summer walks down the aisle. Summer gets to the ring side and walks up the ring stairs. Summer looks out at the crowd and raises her arms out to the crowd as the crowd cheers louder. Summer turns her attention to inside the ring where she motions to the referee to open the bottom and middle ropes so they can enter. Summer walks over to the closest ring corner and climbs up to the middle turnbuckle.

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.

HIGHLIGHT REEL

The match started off with a frenetic pace.

REggie and Summer flying around the ring, hitting big flashy moves… but the tide quickly turned.

The big powerhouses, Oz and Kline exchanging big power moves one after another on the smaller Estrada and Page.

Kline hits a chokeslam on Estrada!

Oz powerbombs Page!

And then the two giants meet nose to nose in the center of the ring for what feels like the hundredth time. This elicits a huge pop from the crowd as they just start trading punches. Lefts and rights. Oz starts driving Kline back into the ropes. He lays a nasty chop across his chest. Then another!

Oz takes a few steps back and then charges in for a running clothes line - - - BUT KLINE STOPS HIM!

OFF BALANCED SUPERKICK RIGHT TO OZ’S JAW!

Mr. Oz stumbles into Kline as they both remain precariously unbalanced near the ropes and - - -

[blue]TODD: LOOK OUT FROM BEHIND, BAMA!

Out of nowhere, Page and Estrada have recovered and are partnering up, grabbing Oz by each leg and pushing up with all of their might - - - FLIPPING BOTH HE AND KLINE OUT TO THE FLOOR!

The crowd pops big for this one!

Summer celebrates, raising her fists in the air, and almost goes to high-five Reggie, but recognizes her mistake too late!

Reggie rakes her in the eyes, then arm drags her to the mat and beings curb stomping her.

Reggie takes advantage and goes for the quick cover…

1!

2!!

But Summer kicks out with relative ease… and now she looks pissed.

She's up and spears Reggie… THROUGH THE ROEPS AND TO THE FLOOR!

The two crash on the outside, but Summer still has Reggie mounted and begins pummeling him in the face with punches.

Elsewhere, near the commentary tables, the two behemoths are battling it out.

Oz is gripping Kline by the ears, and sends a headbutt right between his eyes. Kline flops to the floor, but Oz doesn’t look much better. He stumbles back into the commentary table, and leans over trying to catch his breath.

He finally shakes the cobwebs, and limps over to grab a chair. He slams it closed and sets his sights on Kline who is only just now on all fours.

CRACK!

The chair is driven into Kline’s spine.

CRACK!

Again, and again!

Oz sets the chair back in a seated position - - - he lifts Kline to his feet and…

A GORGEOUS LOOKING SPINEBUSTER ONTO THE CHAIR!

Elsewhere, Page is trying to recover from a comeback by Reggie.

After an effective low-blow to Summer, Reggie has been having his way with her.

She’s down on the outside, and now Reggie is climbing back in the ring, and up the turnbuckle. He trunks and

BAMA: I'm Ya Papi-Hulo, BABY!!!!!!

FIVE STAR FROG SP- - - KNEES TO THE GUT BY PAGE!

Reggie is in a bad way now. Summer has him right where she wants him…

TODD: PURE PERFECTION ON THE FLOOR!

The fisherman’s suplex lands clean. Summer hooks the leg

1!

2!!

3!!!

ELIMINATED - REGGIE ESTRADA!

After noticing the elimination, Oz takes a break from brutalizing Kline. A sick little grin sliding across his lips as he snakes up behind Summer Page and - - - GRAVITAS!!!!

Oz plants Summer right on her head with his finisher and goes for the cover

1!
2!!

NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

TODD: HOW IN THE HELL DID SUMMER KICK OUT OF THAT MOVE, BAMA!

BAMA: SUMMER HAS SOOO MUCH FIGHT IN HER, BABY! I BELIEVE WE’RE ONLY BEGINNING TO SEE HER AT HER BEST!

Oz is stunned. But quickly, that look of shock melts away into disgust, and disdain.

He rips Page up by the hair and begins walking her over near the commentary table, where Kline is still trying to recover.

Oz throws Page down and then begins wrecking the commentary table top like a mad man. Slamming monitors, and mics, and shuffling papers. Giving himself a place to stand. He drags Page back up by the hair and flips her onto the table and - - - LOW BLOW FROM KLINE!

Oz Crumbles. And now it’s Kline’s turns. He grabs the mangled chair from the floor and swing is wildly at Oz’s head.

CRRRRAAAAAACK!

Oz is out. Kline turns back and - - -SUMMER LEAPS OFF OF THE COMMENTARY TABLE AND TAKES KLINE DOWN WITH A DIVING TORNADO DDT!!!

The crowd is going wild!

But Summer doesn’t hesitate. She spots Oz looking like he’s in rough shape.

Quickly she dives on him for the cover

1!

2!!

OZ BENCH PRESSES HER OFF OH HIM!

Oz gets to his feet, heavily breathing with a terrible looking rage.

He steps toward Summer and snatches her again, dragging her to the table and this time - - - GRAVITAS THROUGH THE TABLE - - - he finishes what he started.

Summer is out

Oz covers!

1!

2!!

3!!!

ELIMINATED - SUMMER PAGE

TODD: We’re down to the final two, Bama! It will be Mr. Oz or Solomon Kline challenging for the REvolution Championship!

The battle between these behemoths rages on.

Oz Spinebusters Kline through the other commentary table… for a split-second kick-out!

Kline eventually takes back control and plants Oz on the steel steps with a full nelson slam that also only draws a near-fall…

And now finally, this bloody stalemate has made its way back into the ring.

And

TODD: OH MY GOD! I THINK OZ HAS CONTROL HERE!

BAMA: HE’S ABOUT TO SEND KLINE ON A RIDE TO MR. OZ’S GERMAN SUPLEX SCHOOL!

1 GERMAN

2 GERMAN

3 GERMAN

4- - -NOOOOOOOOO

OUT OF NOWHERE - SUMMER PAGE SNEAS BACK INTO THE MATCH AND HITS OZ WITH A LOWBLOW FROM BEHIND!

OZ LETS GO. HIS EYES BULDGING FROM HIS SKULL!

KLINE TURNS AND

TODD: CRIOMSON BOMB! CRIMSON BOMB!

BAMA: WITH AN UNLIKELY ASSIST FROM SUMMER PAGE, BABY!

A defiant Summer sneaks back out of the ring as a dazed Kline pins Mr. Oz

1!

2!!

3!!!

Winner - SOLOMON KLINE

[video=youtube]TkUKyTLYQos[/video]

"Sex Metal Barbie" by In This Moment plays as Jenny Myst makes her way to the ring.

The lights drop hard.

A low pink glow bleeds across the arena as the opening pulse of “Sex Metal Barbie” hits—industrial, predatory, unmistakable. The crowd reaction swells immediately, a mix of boos, awe, and uneasy anticipation, because everyone knows what that song means.

Then she steps through the curtain.

Jenny Myst doesn’t rush. She arrives.

Leather gleams under the lights as she pauses at the top of the ramp, chin tilted slightly upward, eyes scanning the crowd like she’s counting debts. The X-Division Championship, Mortimer, rests over her shoulder—not displayed, not flaunted—carried like a weapon she’s already used tonight. Her expression is calm, almost bored, but there’s cruelty sitting just beneath it, coiled and patient.

On the second beat drop, she rolls her shoulders and starts down the ramp with deliberate, confident strides. Each step syncs with the rhythm—measured, heavy, inevitable. She ignores the fans reaching out, the insults, the chants. Their noise doesn’t register. This isn’t their moment. It’s hers.

Halfway down, Jenny stops.

She turns slowly, eyes locking with the hard camera, and smirks—not playful, not charming, but sharp. A reminder. She lifts Mortimer just enough for the gold to catch the light, mouthing a few words only the camera gets: mine. Then she lets the title fall back against her shoulder like it belongs there… because it does.

At ringside, she wipes her boots on the apron with exaggerated care before stepping up, climbing through the ropes with smooth precision. No wasted movement. No nerves. Inside the ring, she walks straight to the center, turning once more as the music continues to snarl through the arena.

Jenny Myst raises the title high—not for the crowd, but for her opponent—eyes cold, posture relaxed, utterly in control.

The music fades.

And suddenly, the ring feels smaller.

Bama T: Making her way to the ring….IT’S HER X’CELLENCY, JENNY MYST!

Todd: Jenny Myst has quickly risen to the top of the card since she returned to the XWF. She co-main evented back-to-back Pay Per Views, was a 2-time X-treme Champion, and she even defeated Game Girl in the March Madness tournament: but tonight, she has her eyes set on something bigger and larger than all of that.

Bama T: You’re damn right, Todd! Because tonight, Jenny Myst finally sets her sights on the greatest prize in all of professional wrestling: THE ANARCHY CHAMPIONSHIP!

Todd: For what I believe is the first time in Jenny’s historic career, she will be fighting for a chance at ‘Big Blue’!

Bama T: And you just know that she has a few dirty tricks up her sleeve, and a few traps laid for T-Six along the way!

Full black.

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. He 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.

Todd: This is an insane match-up tonight, because not only do we have Jenny Myst in action…but we also have Thirty-Six! The second longest Revolution Championship reign of all time. A former Anarchy tag-team champion. The February Star of the Month!

Bama T: Mr. T-Six has dominated on Anarchy ever since his debut. So now tonight, it’s only natural that he’s finally getting a chance to fight for the big one.

Todd: And if history tells us anything, Bama? It’s telling us that if Thirty-Six gets his hands on Big Blue, he won’t be letting it go for a long, long time!

The bell CLANGS and the energy in the arena spikes instantly.

XXXVI explodes out of his corner, closing the distance before Jenny Myst can even react. He locks up, drives her back, and buries a shoulder into her midsection, forcing her into the turnbuckles.

Todd: "And we are off! XXXVI wasting absolutely no time here!"

Bama T: "That’s one way to do it, Todd. Don’t let the snake start slithering."

XXXVI unloads with sharp right hands—one, two, three—before whipping Jenny hard across the ring. She hits the opposite corner and stumbles forward—

ARM DRAG—followed by another—then a dropkick that sends her tumbling under the bottom rope to the outside.

Jenny lands on her feet but immediately backs away, creating distance.

Bama T: "Look at that ring awareness. She ain’t sticking around to get steamrolled."

XXXVI doesn’t hesitate—he sprints to the ropes—

SUICIDE DIVE!

He crashes into Jenny, sending both competitors into the barricade with a thud that echoes.

Todd: "XXXVI just launched himself like a missile! He is pulling out all the stops!"

CIX claps loudly at ringside, shouting encouragement.

XXXVI pulls Jenny up and tries to slam her face-first into the apron—but Jenny blocks, elbows him in the ribs, and counters—

She whips him into the steel steps!

CLANG.

Bama T: "There we go. That’s more like it."

Jenny takes a second, brushing her hair back, regaining composure. Then she reaches under the ring—

—and pulls out a second ladder.

The crowd buzzes.

She slides it in, then follows, setting it up near the ropes instead of the center.

Todd: "Interesting placement here—Jenny Myst thinking strategically."

Bama T: "Or thinking shortcut. Same difference."

XXXVI rolls back into the ring, clutching his shoulder. Jenny charges—

—but he pops up and catches her!

SPINEBUSTER!

The ring shakes.

Todd: "What impact! XXXVI turning the tide!"

He doesn’t waste time—he drags the ladder to the center and starts climbing.

One rung.

Two.

Three.

Jenny scrambles up and grabs his ankle, yanking him down violently. He crashes face-first into the mat.

Jenny stomps away at his back, then grabs the ladder and RAMS it into his ribs.

Once. Twice.

Todd: "That ladder just became a weapon!"

Bama T: "It’s always been a weapon, Todd. That’s the point!"

Jenny wedges the ladder in the corner again and drags XXXVI up.

She attempts a whip—

—but he reverses!

Jenny goes shoulder-first into the ladder again, the metal buckling slightly under the impact.

She staggers backward—

XXXVI charges—

RUNNING CLOTHESLINE turns her inside out.

The crowd roars.

Todd: "Jenny Myst might be in serious trouble!"

XXXVI pulls her up and hooks her—

VERTICAL SUPLEX—

—but instead of dropping her, he walks her over and SLAMS her onto the ladder laid flat in the ring.

Jenny screams out in pain.

Bama T: "Okay… that one hurt."

XXXVI sets the ladder up again and starts climbing.

Halfway there—

Jenny kips up—adrenaline kicking in—and shoves the ladder sideways.

XXXVI leaps off at the last second, landing on his feet—but Jenny capitalizes—

LOW BLOW.

The crowd BOOS loudly as XXXVI drops to his knees.

Todd: "Again with that! She’s shameless!"

Bama T: "She’s effective!"

Jenny grins and grabs his head—

DDT—spiking him onto the edge of the ladder.

She rolls him aside and begins her climb.

Slow. Methodical.

She’s nearing the top—

—but CIX jumps onto the apron, yelling at her.

“HEY! HE’S GETTING BACK UP!”

Jenny looks down, annoyed—

That split-second distraction costs her.

XXXVI surges up, grabs the ladder, and SHOVES it.

Jenny crashes down hard to the mat, clutching her back.

Todd: "CIX just bought XXXVI a second chance!"

Bama T: "Yeah, but how many chances does he need?"

Both competitors are down again.

The crowd claps rhythmically, trying to will XXXVI back to his feet.

He stirs first.

He drags himself up using the ropes, breathing heavily, eyes locked on the briefcase.

He sets the ladder once more.

Climbing again.

Every step slower than the last.

Jenny begins to stir.

She crawls to the opposite side of the ladder and starts climbing too.

They meet at the top.

Forearms back and forth.

The crowd roaring with each shot.

Todd: "This is it! This is the turning point!"

XXXVI lands a heavy right—

Jenny fires back—

XXXVI HEADBUTTS her—

She wobbles—

—but rakes the eyes AGAIN.

Bama T: "If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it!"

Jenny reaches—

XXXVI grabs her waist—

and launches—

SUPERPLEX OFF THE LADDER!

Both crash with a thunderous impact.

The ring shakes.

The crowd ERUPTS.

Todd: "UNBELIEVABLE! THEY MAY HAVE JUST DESTROYED EACH OTHER!"

CIX is frantic at ringside, shouting for XXXVI to move.

Slowly… painfully… he begins crawling.

Jenny is barely moving.

XXXVI reaches the ladder and starts pulling himself up.

The crowd is on their feet.

Todd: "Nobody left! Nobody to stop him now!"

He climbs.

One rung.

Two.

Three.

Four.

He’s inches away.

The arena is ready to explode—

—but suddenly—

The crowd reaction shifts.

Loud boos.

Marisol Vilaro and Big Pretty are sprinting down the ramp!

Bama T: "Ohhhh yeah. Here we go."

Todd: "No! Not now! Not like this! What the hell does Marisol Vilaro have against T-Six?!"

CIX jumps down and tries to cut them off—but Big Pretty steps in front of her, blocking her path completely.

She tries to shove past him—

He doesn’t budge.

Marisol slides into the ring.

XXXVI is fingertips away from the briefcase—

Marisol grabs the ladder—

and SHOVES it violently.

XXXVI crashes down, hitting hard and rolling toward the ropes.

Todd: "This is a setup! This is a complete setup!"

Bama T: "It’s called payback, Todd!"

Todd: “Payback for WHAT?! What could Marisol possibly be getting revenge for?!”

Bama: “It’s payback for how UGLY and UNMAXXED 36 is!”

CIX screams in frustration as Big Pretty keeps her out.

Jenny slowly begins to move, pulling herself up with the ropes.

Marisol steadies the ladder for her.

Jenny looks up at the briefcase… then down at XXXVI… then smiles.

She begins climbing.

There’s no resistance.

There’s no fight left.

Todd: "He had this match won… he had it won…"

Bama T: "But he didn’t finish it. That’s the difference!”

Jenny reaches the top.

Her hands grasp the briefcase.

She unhooks it.

CLICK.

The bell rings.

Winner and NEW #1 Contender to the Anarchy Championship - Jenny Myst

Todd: "It’s over… Jenny Myst has stolen a shot at the Anarchy Championship!"

Jenny sits atop the ladder, clutching the briefcase, soaking in the deafening boos.

Marisol applauds. Big Pretty finally steps aside.

CIX rushes into the ring and kneels beside XXXVI, checking on him as he stares up, devastated.

Jenny stands tall, raising the briefcase high above her head.

Bama T: "You can hate it, but you can’t deny it. She’s the new number one contender."

Todd: "And XXXVI is left picking up the pieces… after having it ripped away from him by Marisol!"

Jenny smirks down at them both before climbing the turnbuckle, holding the briefcase high.

TODD: The Revolution Championship is on the line, folks! Betsy Granger versus John Blade, and surrounding the ring are four dangerous lumberjacks with a LOT at stake!
BAMA: This is a powder keg, Toddrick! Betsy wins, all five of ‘em are banned from challengin’ her title reign! John wins? We got ourselves a new champ and the whole division changes overnight!

The Time is now hit's as he walks out on stage. “The Surgeon of Thug” John Blade 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 platform!

TODD: The “Surgeon of Thug”! The “Chain Gang”! John Blade!

BAMA: Where? I can’t see him.

TODD: Get your eyes checked, Bama. John Blade is in the building! He challenged Betsy Granger this week for the Revolution Title. Despite not having won a #1 contender’s match! Despite not having beaten Betsy in the past! And Betsy accepted his challenge… with a HUGE condition! That if he wins, John Blade may NOT challenge for the Revolution Title again while Betsy Granger is holding it!

BAMA: Not only John! But the entire Chain Gang, as it were! Razor, Latoya, Deena, AND Landerson! It feels like half the Revolution division is going to be stuck in challenger purgatory if John Blade doesn’t get the job done tonight![/lbue]

JC: This certainly isn’t a typical match, wrestling on a thin platform above an unfathomably deep drop! But, ya gotta wonder if a career that’s been as long as John Blade’s gives him some kind of experience advantage. If he can apply some stipulation in his past to this scenario and if that will give him the edge the Surgeon of Thug needs to carve out the win![/white]

John 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![/align]

Surrounding the ring, Razor Blade and Latoya Hixx, the tag-team known as American Nightmare, stand shoulder to shoulder, eyeing John intensely…

On the other side of the ring, Deena grits his teeth giggling to herself as Landerson takes two steps to stop from being too close to Deena.[/font][/color][/size]

[blue]TODD: And our lumberjacks are already surrounding the ring, Bama! Ya gotta wonder just how much they plan to get involved! This isn’t just Blade’s chance on the line! Their future as potential champions is in jeopardy… in a match they aren’t even competing in!

…

“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… The Revolution Title gleaming as bright as a constellation on her shoulder!

“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!”

TODD: There she is! The Revolution Champion! Betsy Granger! After returning to the XWF, she’s pulled down championship gold and is the proud champion of the Revolution!

BAMA: Betsy’s not one to back down from a fight, but I gotta say, this is a dumb challenge! John Blade’s already no slouch… and he’s got his whole entourage at ringside!

TODD: Never tell Betsy Granger the odds! Or do, so she can proudly defy them!

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.

…
Betsy Granger stands in her corner, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. Despite the smile on her face, her fingers flex anxiously against the ropes, betraying nervous energy beneath the playful confidence. Her eyes dart from lumberjack to lumberjack outside the ring, mentally calculating escape routes and risks.
Across from her, John Blade slowly rolls his shoulders and smirks with arrogant certainty. He points directly at the title belt, then taps his chest twice with a fist. The younger fans erupt in cheers while older fans answer with thunderous boos.
BAMA:Listen to them kids screamin’ for The Chain Gang!
TODD:And listen to everybody else booing him out of the building!

The referee raises the Revolution Championship high overhead. Before handing it off to the timekeeper… He signals for the bell!

DING DING DING!

The moment the bell rings, John immediately surges forward!

TODD: John Blade making the first incision of his title-belt-ectomy, if you will.

BAMA: I will not, I hate surgical wordplay!

The instant he moves, his face lights up with overconfident excitement, sensing he can overwhelm Betsy with raw force. He barrels in with a Running Leaping Shoulder Block—

—but Betsy’s eyes widen sharply with alarm before narrowing in concentration. She drops flat to the mat at the last second.

John sails over her entirely!

TODD: John may have underestimated the explosive quickness of the Impossible Traveler!

BAMA: C’mon, John! She travels impossibly fast! It’s in the name!

His expression changes from smug certainty to startled confusion as he stumbles into the ropes.

Betsy instantly sees the opening. A mischievous grin curls across her face as she pops upward and fires a tiger feint kick through the ropes—

SMACK!

The kick catches John flush in the ribs as he rebounds backward.

TODD:Beautiful counter by the champion!

BAMA: Clean blow! But it’s gonna take a lot more than one fancy kick to put down the Chain Gang!

John grimaces, clutching his side. Embarrassment flashes across his face at being outmaneuvered so quickly, and that embarrassment immediately mutates into anger. He lunges forward again, swinging wildly for a Leaping Clothesline—

—but Betsy’s expression brightens with sudden confidence. She spins underneath the arm and snatches the wrist into a spinning armwringer!

TODD: Betsy’s putting on a clinic here!

John’s face contorts as the torque snaps through his shoulder.

Betsy keeps twisting.

John drops to one knee.

Outside the ring, American Nightmare peers closer… Razor smacks the ring as if signalling to John to get his head in the game.

TODD: Clearly Razor is trying to remind John that wrestling has more than one royal family!

BAMA: Are we canonically putting on the record that John and Razor are related?

TODD: Not our place to do so, Bama! But, we are gently implying the possibility!

The champion’s grin grows wider. She pivots behind him and leaps, wrapping body scissors around his waist while applying an arm-hook sleeper!

The crowd roars.

John’s face reddens instantly. He claws at Betsy’s arms, panic briefly flashing in his eyes as he realizes how tightly she’s trapped him.

TODD: Betsy’s trying to wear the powerhouse down early!

BAMA: Smart! You let John Blade get downhill and start stringing moves… and it’s like tryin’ to stop a freight train with a napkin! Barney Green knows that better ‘n anybody! Best way to keep John Blade down is to never let him up in the first place![/blue

John snarls through gritted teeth. Pride and stubbornness harden his expression. He plants his boots and forces himself upward with sheer strength.

Betsy’s eyes widen.

John RUNS backward into the turnbuckles—

THUD!

Betsy’s body bounces violently against the pads.

Her face twists in pain, body scissors loosening instinctively.

John immediately senses weakness. A cocky grin returns as he peels Betsy off himself and hoists her upward—

SPINEBUSTER!

The ring shakes.

Betsy folds upward from the impact, gasping silently.

[blue]BAMA:THAT is star power, baby! Someone must have freshly polished that Blade cuz it is SHINING right now!

Razor Blade lets out a breath he was holding, clapping a few times for a good move… Deena snarls on the other side, screaming at him to finish Granger off!

John pops to his feet, feeding off the crowd reaction. He raises one hand high in the air.

Half the crowd explodes.

The other half rains boos.

John pumps himself up, waving “You Can’t See Me” over the grounded Betsy.

TODD: He’s going for the Five Knuckles-Shuffle already?!

John rebounds off the ropes—

—but Betsy’s eyes suddenly sharpen with survival instinct.

As John charges back in, she pops upward and catches him with a sudden single-leg dropkick right to the knee.

John CRASHES forward awkwardly.

His expression becomes furious disbelief.

Betsy scrambles up, sensing momentum turning. Her fear melts into excitement as she grabs John’s arm and flips into a crucifix—

—but John’s sheer size halts the throw halfway.

Betsy’s face instantly shifts from confidence to “oh no.”

John smirks.

Then he DEADLIFTS her upward.

BAMA: OH SHE DONE MESSED UP NOW!

WHITE NOISE!

Betsy bounces off the mat hard.

TODD: What a maneuver! That slam right there could have just ended it!
Outside the ring… Deena circles beside her twin sister… as Razor shifts to the other side by Landerson…

Inside the ring, John hooks the leg.

The official slides to count as the lumberjacks gather, intrigued!

ONE!

TWO!

THR-KICKOUT!

The crowd erupts.

John sits up with stunned irritation.

Outside the ring, Latoya Hixx pulls her sunglasses down and pounds the apron furiously, yelling for John to “JUST HIT HER HARDER!”

Deena Hixx nods enthusiastically despite clearly not understanding strategy beyond that.

Meanwhile, Razor Blade watches intently with narrowed eyes, pacing like a caged wolf.

El Landerson wildly slaps the apron and shouts encouragement in Spanish. Bien, bien!

John rises again, breathing heavily now. Sweat drips from his face, frustration beginning to crack his confidence.

Across from him, Betsy pushes herself up slowly, one hand clutching her back. Fear flickers in her eyes for only a moment before she forces herself to smile defiantly.

John charges.

Betsy suddenly leaps upward—

DIVING HURRICANRANA DRIVER!

PLANTE DE VISAGE!

The crowd detonates.

John spikes violently head-first into the canvas.

TODD: PLANTE DE VISAGE!! SHE PLANTED HIM!

Betsy collapses beside him, too exhausted to capitalize immediately.

Outside, Deena slams both fists against the apron in frustration while Latoya screams at John to “GET UP, DUMMY!”

Eventually Betsy crawls over.

ONE!

TWO!

THR—NO!

John powers out.

Betsy’s eyes go wide in disbelief.

John sits upright immediately after the kickout, pure adrenaline in his expression. The crowd volume fuels him. He beats his chest wildly.

BAMA: THAT BOY AIN’T HUMAN!

Betsy backs away nervously now.

John storms forward with renewed momentum.

LOU THESZ PRESS!

Punches rain down.

Betsy covers desperately.

John rises, adrenaline-drunk and roaring to the audience…

Betsy rolls outside the ring to buy herself a breather!

…She rolls to her feet… beside Razor and Landerson..

TODD: Uh oh! I think Betsy forgot what kind of match this is…

BAMA: The Impossible Traveler just traveled into the lion’s den!

Betsy shakes her head, trying to reform a strategy in her mind…

When she realizes, flanking her shoulders are Razor Blade and El Landerson!

The Hixxes scream at them to get her!

Betsy’s eyes widen as she defensively raises her dukes!

…

Razor holds open the bottom rope and gestures her inside… Landerson holds his hands like ‘venga, venga’!

The Hixxes are like ‘WHAT?!?!’

TODD: Great show of sportsmanship by Razor and Landerson! Even if it means them losing a title shot, they want this match result to come out fairly!

The Hixxes storm over, screaming at Razor and Landerson to start beating Granger down! Razor sneers, finding their suggestion disgusting as Landerson does the sign of the cross, getting ready to throw hands with his old friends to knock some sense into them!

Betsy is surprised… as she rolls back under the bottom rope…

STRAIGHT INTO JOHN BLADE’S ARMS!

SPINNING POWERBOMB!

TODD: Oh my! I think Betsy’s surprise at the sportsmanship by the Chain Gang took her eye off the ball! And John Blade just capitalized!

Betsy’s back hits the canvas HARD!

Blade springs up, pumping his fists! Then he leans down and pumps up his shoe.

The arena EXPLODES.

TODD: Death Valley Drop coming!! We could have a new Revolution champion!

John lifts Betsy onto his shoulders—

—but Betsy’s terrified expression suddenly becomes calculating focus.

She twists violently downward into a sunset flip attempt.

John stumbles backward—

STRAIGHT INTO THE ROPES!

The top rope snaps him awkwardly over the apron—

—and suddenly all four lumberjacks converge.

Razor Blade reaches John first and tries shoving him back inside.

But Latoya aggressively pushes Razor aside.

Deena starts yelling random, contradictory advice.

El Landerson hops excitedly onto the apron trying to help everybody simultaneously.

TODD: I think the Chain Gang wants to get Blade back into this match… but their lack of cohesion isn’t giving him clear direction!

BAMA: It doesn’t help they’ve all got half a brain cell between the five of em!

Chaos erupts outside.

John gets tangled in the confusion, trying to bark orders to get his Chain Gang back untangled!

Inside the ring, Betsy sees opportunity.

Her face lights up with reckless ambition.

She sprints.

TIGER FEINT KICK THROUGH THE ROPES!

The kick blasts John directly into Latoya and Deena.

All three tumble backward! Razor and Landerson back off, Razor squeezing his head, seeing this go south…

Betsy whips John into the ring! Razor goes to try and stop her… but Betsy’s already back on the apron!

TODD: Uh oh! I think Razor’s seeing a problem here!

Betsy immediately springboards to the top rope.

Landerson climbs the otherside of the turnbuckle to stop her as Razor climbs the apron behind Landerson…

WHAM! Betsy boots Landerson under the chin… and he collapses backwards into Razor! They both topple to the padded concrete outside!

John stumbles upright groggily.

Betsy launches—

GALACTIC ADVANTAGE!

FLYING SNAPMARE DRIVER!

John’s skull bounces off the mat.

Betsy doesn’t cover immediately.

Instead, exhausted and trembling, she grabs John’s arm and traps him in a Bridging Fujiwara Armbar.

John SCREAMS.

His face contorts with agony.

He tries crawling.

But Betsy bridges harder.

John finally SLAPS THE MAT.

DING DING DING!

Winner and STILL XWF Revolution Champion: Betsy Granger!

TODD: SHE DID IT! BETSY GRANGER RETAINS THE REVOLUTION TITLE!

BAMA: And now none of these goobers can challenge her while she’s champion! That sneaky little space gremlin pulled it off!

Betsy releases the hold immediately and rolls onto her back, exhausted beyond belief.

John clutches his arm in frustration, pounding the mat once with his good fist.

The referee hands Betsy the Revolution Championship.

Then a huge, relieved smile breaks across her face.

Outside the ring, the Chain Gang finds their way back to their feet, observing the result…

Razor Blade claps begrudgingly, delivering a nod of respect despite the disappointment.

El Landerson applauds enthusiastically, for a well fought victory.

Deena looks confused about the stipulation, asking her sister when she can challenge for that belt.

Latoya argues loudly with literally everyone.

Meanwhile Betsy climbs the turnbuckles and raises the title overhead as the crowd roars around her.

TODD: Betsy Granger survived one of the toughest title defenses of her career tonight! And the Betsy Revolution rolls on!

THANKS TO

Our Match Writers

'Bashmaster' Barry Masterson
Peter Principle
'Big' Dick Lichter
Atticus Gold

Our Segment Writers
Kristoffer Arroyo
Ric James

AND EVERYONE WHO RP'D

]]>

XWF Anarchy
[Image: vuE1ZV0.png]

04 - 30 - 2026

LIVE FROM THE OAKLAND COLISEUM ARENA!

OAKLAND, CALIFORNIA

MISS FURRY ©
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX

NON-TITLE MATCH!

RAZOR BLADE
- vs -
BOBBY SALES
- vs -
MARISOL VILARO

TRIPLE THREAT!

FRANCES MARIGOLD
- vs -
KRISTOFFER 'VAMP' ARROYO

FIRST BLOOD MATCH!

TODD: …This entrance sure takes a while.

BAMA: And the Mona Lisa sure took a lot of strokes, pipe down Toddy baby, I’m trying to drink it in…

…

MISS FURRY ©
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX

NON-TITLE MATCH!

HIGHLIGHT REEL

Winner: Miss Furry!

Bobby cripwalks his way to the ring.

WINNER - MARISOL VILARO

FRANCES MARIGOLD
- vs -
KRISTOFFER 'VAMP' ARROYO

FIRST BLOOD MATCH!

Highlight Reel

Winner: FRANCES MARIGOLD

HIGHLIGHT REEL

ELIMINATED - REGGIE ESTRADA!

ELIMINATED - SUMMER PAGE

Winner - SOLOMON KLINE

[video=youtube]TkUKyTLYQos[/video]

Winner and NEW #1 Contender to the Anarchy Championship - Jenny Myst

The Time is now hit's as he walks out on stage. “The Surgeon of Thug” John Blade 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 platform!

TODD: The “Surgeon of Thug”! The “Chain Gang”! John Blade!

BAMA: Where? I can’t see him.

TODD: Get your eyes checked, Bama. John Blade is in the building! He challenged Betsy Granger this week for the Revolution Title. Despite not having won a #1 contender’s match! Despite not having beaten Betsy in the past! And Betsy accepted his challenge… with a HUGE condition! That if he wins, John Blade may NOT challenge for the Revolution Title again while Betsy Granger is holding it!

BAMA: Not only John! But the entire Chain Gang, as it were! Razor, Latoya, Deena, AND Landerson! It feels like half the Revolution division is going to be stuck in challenger purgatory if John Blade doesn’t get the job done tonight![/lbue]

JC: This certainly isn’t a typical match, wrestling on a thin platform above an unfathomably deep drop! But, ya gotta wonder if a career that’s been as long as John Blade’s gives him some kind of experience advantage. If he can apply some stipulation in his past to this scenario and if that will give him the edge the Surgeon of Thug needs to carve out the win![/white]

John 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![/align]

Surrounding the ring, Razor Blade and Latoya Hixx, the tag-team known as American Nightmare, stand shoulder to shoulder, eyeing John intensely…

On the other side of the ring, Deena grits his teeth giggling to herself as Landerson takes two steps to stop from being too close to Deena.[/font][/color][/size]

[blue]TODD: And our lumberjacks are already surrounding the ring, Bama! Ya gotta wonder just how much they plan to get involved! This isn’t just Blade’s chance on the line! Their future as potential champions is in jeopardy… in a match they aren’t even competing in!

…

“Now, who’s ready to be baptized into a new era of entertainment?!”

Winner and STILL XWF Revolution Champion: Betsy Granger!

THANKS TO

Our Match Writers

'Bashmaster' Barry Masterson
Peter Principle
'Big' Dick Lichter
Atticus Gold

Our Segment Writers
Kristoffer Arroyo
Ric James

AND EVERYONE WHO RP'D

]]> <![CDATA[ANARCHY 04-16-2026]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=50007 Fri, 17 Apr 2026 07:51:01 -0700 'Big' Dick Lichter]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=50007

XWF Anarchy
[Image: vuE1ZV0.png]

04 - 16 - 2026

LIVE FROM THE PREMIERE CENTER!

SIOUX FALLS, SOUTH DAKOTA

MARISOL VILARO
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX
- vs -
LIAM ROBERTS
- vs -
RIC JAMES

FATAL 4-WAY!

SCHADENFREUDE CLOWN
- vs -
SAFARI STU

HUNT DOWN THE CLOWN MATCH!

Similar to a game of hide and seek, both competitors will start in the ring: then, Safari Stu will be blindfolded. Schadenfreude Clown will be given 3 minutes to hide somewhere in the arena, and then Safari Stu will have to track S.F. Clown down! The only way Safari Stu can win is by finding the clown and getting him back into the ring!

15 minute time limit!

DEENA HIXX
- vs -
BOBBY BOURBON

X-TREME RULES!

MR. OZ
- vs -
APATHY

X-TREME RULES!

JENNY MYST
- vs -
SUMMER PAGE

TABLES MATCH!

MICHEAL GRAVES & KRISTOFFER 'VAMP' ARROYO
- vs -
BETSY GRANGER © & XXXVI

NUMBER 1 CONTENDER'S MATCH!

The winners of this standard-rules tag match will become the #1 contenders to the Anarchy Tag-Team Championships!

1 RP per team @ 2,000 words

Todd: Welcome one, welcome all, to tonight’s edition of XWF Anarchy- live from SIOUX FALLS!

Bama: That’s right, Todd! Our show is just about to get underway and boy oh boy, do we have a big one planned! Micheal Graves, Kristoffer Arroyo, Jenny Myst, 36, and Betsy Granger- some of the biggest stars in the XWF- will all be getting in on the action tonight!

Todd: And not to mention, Marisol Vilario’s return to Anarchy in tonight’s opener!

Bama: Speaking of returns: I hear we’ve got BOBBY BOURBON in the building tonight! For the first time in over 6 months!

Todd: It goes without saying that all of Anarchy’s biggest stars are here! From Mr. Oz to Latoya Hixx! From the past, present, and the future!

Bama: Even Centurion is expected to make an appearance on tonight’s show! I heard he has some sort of update for us: maybe he’s finally gotten his AARP card!

Todd: There’s only one way to find out, Bama- and that’s by sticking close to your TV! Because Anarchy starts now!

The synthesized beat of Shake it Off By Taylor Swift begins to play over the public address system, as the opening lyrics soon begin, as the fans boo and flashes going off, people are waiting for the arrival of the Fitness Queen herself.

I stay out too late
Got nothing in my brain
That's what people say, mm-mm
That's what people say, mm-mm

As a spotlight is on the entrance ramp and the lights dim, first stepping out is none other than the legendary Snarktopus Nessa Wall, who smiles brightly before trash talking the fans as she smiles, before ordering a couple of stage hands to come out they each have a mirror in hand they face the entrance ramp, as soon out from the back steps La Marvillosa herself Marisol Vilaro.

I go on too many dates
But I can't make 'em stay
At least that's what people say, mm-mm
That's what people say, mm-mm

Marisol stops to admire herself in each mirror posing and showing off, what her hard work has given her and mouthing about how she’s the inspiration these out-of-shape people need. After a few moments of posing she brushes right past, giving her manager/mentor a hug before they head off with Nessa leading the way taking the time to give the fans at ringside a hard time for even trying to touch them.

But I keep cruisin'
Can't stop, won't stop movin'
It's like I got this music in my mind
Sayin' it's gonna be alright

Marisol herself takes the time to pose some more showing off her muscle, and trying to sell them on the VilaroFit mission, and how they need it to improve themselves, As the devious duo soon make their way toward the ring side area Nessa soon goes up the ring steps and takes the time to bark orders at the referee, showing him exactly how lower the ropes for herself, and her client, after being lectured by the Ambitchous one, the referee complies doing it exactly as Nessa demanded enters the ring and motions for Marisol to go up the steps, as she climbs up the steps she takes each moment to keep shilling her products, which doesn’t endear her to the fans, as she soon enters the ring under the rope and soon she rudely brushes past the referee as Nessa presents her to the booing fans as she raises her arms high in the air soaking in the boos, and catcalls.

'Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play
And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate
Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off (hoo-hoo-hoo)
Heartbreakers gonna break, break, break, break, break
And the fakers gonna fake, fake, fake, fake, fake
Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off (hoo-hoo-hoo)

Marisol then does a series of poses once again before turning around and gracing the other side of the area raising her arms high in the air and then doing a similar series of poses showing off her physique and how in shape she is. While Nessa claps her client before they head into their corner, and Nessa is getting Marisol psyched and going over the game plan as they wait for the opponent to enter.

Todd: Marisol Vilaro is BACK and better than ever! She’s looking for a huge win in tonight’s opening bout.

Bama: She’s not just looking for the win, Todd! She wants to VILAROMAXX! She’s going to turn all you ugly ducklies into beautiful baddies, one adjustment at a time!

Todd: At March Madness, she set her sights on T-Six: but tonight, it looks like her sights are set on all 3 of her opponents!

Bama: Vilaro has her eyes set on everyone, Todd: because compared to her, you’re all ugly- and only she can help you VILAROMAXX!

When The Storm is Coming hits Latoya Hixx. they heard a voice laugh in the background and saw blue lights from the entrance and some smoke and rainfall coming down she walked onto the middle stage flexed her muscles walked straight down towards the aisle slapped a few XWF fans got inside the ring and dim the lights in the ring and she flexes her arms once more and spread her arms and climbs on the top rope and yell at her fans and tells them to let's go and climbs down off the ropes and waits for her opponents to arrive.

Todd: Latoya Hixx is in the building!

Bama: That’s The Storm to you, Todd! She’s bringing the lightning and the thunder to this opening match, and you’d better give her the respect she deserves!

Todd: I always give respect when it’s due, Bama, and Latoya deserves all of it! She’s one of the most consistent, most available wrestlers on the entire roster. Latoya has turned herself into a staple of XWF Anarchy, and that’s why she’s been given a spot in this marquee opening match!

Liam Roberts makes his way down to the ring as his music blares through the arena.

Todd: Liam Roberts is a fan-favorite here on Anarchy, even if his record in the ring has been less than stellar!

Bama: Less than stellar? Liam Roberts has over 20 matches in the XWF, stretching over the course of years! Say what you will about Liam, but he has won a match before: so that means, there’s always a chance he could win this one, too!

Todd: That’s a good point, Bama! Liam may be an underdog tonight, but every dog gets their day on Anarchy!

MARISOL VILARO
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX
- vs -
LIAM ROBERTS
- vs -
RIC JAMES

FATAL 4-WAY!

Highlight Reel

The bell rings!

All four wrestlers burst out of their corners with matching intensity. Ric and Liam meet in the middle of the ring and immediately begin trading blows! Right next to them, Marisol and Latoya lock-up in the clinch! Ric’s heavy punches manage to get the better of Liam, forcing him to back into the corner from the force of the blows. Meanwhile, Latoya begins to win the clinch exchange with Marisol!

In the corner, Ric James starts whooping the hell out of Liam Roberts. After a few more punches, Liam Roberts just covers up and tries to protect his face. That’s when Ric James switches to chops! A big chest chop rattles through the arena, causing Liam’s torso to turn red. After a second chop, Liam is forced to drop his hands. That’s when Ric James really takes advantage of him! Ric grabs a screaming Liam out of the corner by his neck, dragging him down to the mat with a ring-shaking DDT!

Todd: Ric James is off to a hot start! All 6 foot 4 inches of him!

Bama: Ric is the biggest mamma jamma in that ring, Todd, and he knows how to throw his weight around!

Across the ring, Latoya Hixx is holding Marisol Vilaro in a clinch against the ropes. While Latoya clearly demonstrates her strength, the referee comes in to force the pair apart due to the rope break! Latoya begrudgingly backs up and gives space to the smaller Marisol: a move she soon comes to regret!

As Marisol Vilaro rakes her eyes right in front of the referee!

Latoya shrieks in pain as the referee admonishes Marisol!

Todd: Vilaro wastes no time before using her dirty tricks! If she’s not careful, the referee could DQ her!

Bama: Oh Todd, get that stick out of your butt! The referee can’t DQ Vilaro: she’s GORGEOUS, and VILAROMAXXED: and that referee looks like an incel!

Todd: What does that have to do with anything, Bama?!

Bama: It has to do with everything, Todd! Marisol is looksmaxxing and aura mogging on the referee, and there’s not a damn thing he or anyone else can do about it!

As Ric James rises from his DDT, he sees Latoya Hixx covering her eyes whilst scrambling away from Marisol.

Before Latoya even realizes what’s happening, Ric James snatches her up into a snap suplex- slamming her down onto the mat with tremendous force!

Ric James scrambles back to his feet with both Latoya Hixx and Liam Roberts laying on the mat before him.

Bama: The strength and the power of Ric James is just unmatched tonight! He’s having his way with his opponents!

Todd: Ric James has looked great in his debut so far, but he shouldn’t get too cocky! Anything can happen in a fatal fourway, and you have to keep your head on a swivel!

But Ric James can’t hear the commentary team.

So he just looks down at Liam and Latoya, before he looks directly into the hardcam.

And then-

He starts flexing for the crowd!

The ladies go wild as Ric James shows off his muscley figure!

Ric James is so busy aura farming, he never even realizes that Marisol Vilaro is eyeing him up!

Todd: It looks like Ric is getting too big for his britches here! He’s taking his eye off the ball!

Bama: Ric is just giving the fans what they want!

Todd: But it looks like Marisol is about to take what SHE wants, too!

Bama: Everybody in this arena wants a piece of Ric James!

As Ric flexes and poses for the crowd, Marisol Vilaro lines him up-

For a swinging neckbreaker!

Ric and Marisol crash down to the mat!

But Marisol doesn’t stay there for long!

Vilaro pops right back up, then she sprints towards the ropes-

Bounces off them-

And delivers a running elbow drop right onto Ric James’ face!

Then, she starts VilaroMaxxing with a few push-ups!

The crowd eats it up!

Bama: It looks like Ric James isn’t the only one here who knows how to put on a show!

Todd: But if James and Vilaro keep playing to the crowd, they’re going to give their opponents plenty of time to recover!

Bama: Everything has it’s pros and it’s cons, Todd! Everything!

After doing an impressive amount of push-ups, Marisol Vilaro finally stands back up. She wipes her hands on her wrestling gear before turning around with a smirk on her face-

A smirk that immediately disappears when she sees the imposing figure of Latoya Hixx standing right behind her!

Marisol tries to fire off a quick punch, but Latoya sees it coming and blocks it!

Then, Latoya kicks Marisol right in the gut, causing the smaller woman to keel over in pain!

To finish off her combo, Latoya grabs Marisol by her perfectly done hair-

Before she throws her over the top rope, and clear out of the ring!

Marisol goes flying!

Then, she CRASHES on the outside!
Todd: There goes Vilaro!

Bama: I think Latoya just chucked her into next week!

As Marisol lays limp by the outside barrier, the in-ring action cranks it up to another level.

Liam Roberts and Ric James rise to their feet at the same time, both locking eyes with Latoya Hixx.

Ric James charges in first- getting a swift boot to his face that sends him reeling backwards.

Then Liam comes in, shooting for a spear-

But Latoya moves out of the way, and redirects Liam right into the turnbuckle post! Liam’s shoulder slams against the metal, but he has no time to wallow in the pain: because Latoya immediately pulls him out of the corner and into the center of the ring, where she looks to be setting up a powerbomb!

But before she can lift Liam’s little frame, Ric James is back in the fray!

He hits the ropes opposite Latoya before sprinting towards her with a leaping clothesline that nearly takes her head off!

Liam, finding himself free from Latoya’s grasp, tries to get in some offense of his own! He tries to kick Ric James when he stands back up- but Ric’s reflexes are too fast!

Ric catches Liam’s foot, holding it there for a second whilst he looks at Liam and wags his finger back and forth, as if admonishing Liam for even attempting to hurt him!

A look of worry flashes across Liam’s face as Ric James uses his captured foot to spin him around-

Before hitting him with a FLASH KICK straight to the chin!

The lights go dark in Liam’s eyes, but the motion of his body carries him into the ropes-

And then back towards Ric James-

Who catches Liam with a SCENE STEALER!

The cutter brings Liam straight down to the mat!

Ric James thinks about going for the pin-

But then he sees Latoya rising to her feet over in the corner.

That’s when he abandons Liam’s corpse-

And charges at Latoya with a big corner splash!

Bama: This match is all Ric James! He’s taking belt to ass, all across the ring!

Todd: But look, Bama! Marisol Vilaro is back up- and she’s sliding back into the ring!

Ric James is too busy causing destruction, he doesn’t even see Marisol Vilaro creeping back into the scene.

As Latoya Hixx stumbles forward out of the corner, Ric James backs away-

Setting up another…

SCENE STEALER!

The cutter drives Latoya Hixx straight down to the mat!

The crowd goes wild after seeing back to back Scene Stealers!

But Marisol Vilaro isn’t going wild: she just has a wild look in her eye…

As she sneakily crawls atop Liam Roberts for a pin, just moments before Ric James covers up Latoya Hixx!

The referee drops down to make the count!

1!

2!!

3!!!

Winner - Marisol Vilaro

Ric James jumps into the air at 3, exhilarated and delighted with his performance. He walks into the center of the ring to have his hand raised by the referee….

Only to see that the referee is already raising MARISOL VILARO’S hand!

Ric James can’t believe it!

While Marisol Vilaro’s grin stretches from ear to ear!

Todd: Oh my God! Marisol Vilaro just stole this match right out from under Ric’s nose! Ric James can’t believe it, and frankly, neither can I!

Bama: Ric James just got robbed! He dominated this match, he had this match won: but Marisol Vilaro snuck in at the final moment, and snatched victory from the jaws of defeat!

Ric James starts arguing with the referee as Marisol’s music plays out through the arena. Marisol steps out of the ring and starts walking up towards the ramp, before turning back to taunt Ric James one last time. Marisol makes a few mocking gestures towards Ric for good measure, while the referee tries to calm him down.

Todd: This was a huge win for Marisol Vilaro, but I think the biggest takeaway from this match was Ric James’ dominance! He looked unstoppable in there!

Bama: Marisol Vilaro beat him with her veteran tricks, but we all saw what really happened in that ring! This match was all Ric James, all day!

Todd: I can’t wait to see what’s next for Ric, and likewise, I’m dreading the fact that Marisol might have even more tricks up her sleeve! She’s sheisty!

Bama: But we can’t sit around bemoaning results all day, Todd: because we still have plenty of action left here on XWF Anarchy!

TODD: Folks, this next match… well, I suppose…

BAMA: It’s gonna be a dumpster fire! Painted in polka dot, burning bright on the side of the road! Grab your circus peanuts folks cuz this one’s gonna be from Barnum & Bailey’s nightmares!

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.

TODD: There’s Schadenfreude Clown! He’s… possibly some kind of cosmic horror?

BAMA: He knows no end but to inflict suffering and to derive pleasure from that suffering, Toddrick! He’s the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen the Black Rainbow, the Left Hand and your mom naked.

TODD: Wh-...HEY!

BAMA: Just a joke, Toddy baby.

TODD: Juvenile humor, Bama.

BAMA: Your mom won’t let me get past second base until I put a ring on it..

Schadenfreude Clown 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!

…

As the drums echoed down tonight, the rumble of a Jeep painted in camouflage drowns it out like the blessed rains of Africa. The Jeep continues down the ramp to ringside, where Safari Stu jumps out of the passenger seat. He high fives the gorilla driving the vehicle as a flood of wildlife also files out.

TODD: And there he is! Safari Stu! The XWF’s Ultimate Hunter!

Waving to the crowd, Stu gives a monkey to a young fan as a sign of appreciation. He then climbs into the ring and shoots off finger guns in the air while the monkey decides whether it'll rip the kid's face off. Such is the circle of life.

…

The official approaches Safari Stu and tells Stu to turn around… he does, and Stu

Schadenfreude Clown stands in the corner, laughing in a fashion that could only be described as “hauntingly German.”

[blue]TODD: Ladies and gentlemen, what you’re about to witness is NOT a traditional wrestling match! This is a HUNT DOWN THE CLOWN match!

BAMA: Safari Stu is going to blindfolded! Schadenfreude Clown will have three minutes to hide… And then Stu will have fifteen minutes to hunt down the clown!

HIGHLIGHT REEL

Stu has his blindfold tied securely. The official turns around to give SF Clown permission to hi-

…

When the official turns around, Schadenfreude Clown is already gone…

”Ohohohohohohohohooooooooo..” His voice echoes throughout the arena…

TODD: It looks like SF Clown isn’t going to need the full three minutes to find a hiding spot! He’s already mysteriously disappeared!

BAMA: He could be anywhere! HE COULD BE ANYWHERE!

Safari Stu tears his blindfold off as SF Clown’s hideous laughter echoes through the arena…

Stu takes a big whiff of the air…

”He’s close…” Another sniff. ”I can smell the misfortune…”

14:04
14:03
14:02

Stu skulks along the apron, searching, peeking high and low for the Clown they call Schadenfreude… Clown.

”Ohohohohohohohohooooooooo..”

Stu spins toward the source of the laughter… UNDER THE RING!

TODD: It seems like Schadenfreude Clown’s trademark laughter might be his downfall! Stu’s followed it right to his prey!

BAMA: But what kinda fool would traipse into the lair of Schadenfreude Clown!

Stu steps down the steps and walks to the apron… He reaches into the pocket of his cargo shorts and retrieves…

A pygmy marmoset!

BAMA: What the hell is going on here, Toddrick?!?

TODD: Safari Stu doesn’t just hunt the most dangerous game, Bama! He’s also regularly hanging out with wildlife! Like in his entrance! It seems he’s going to use his pygmy marmoset friend to try and draw out Schadenfreude Clown!

After feeding the marmoset a bit of eucalyptus sap, Stu coaxes the marmoset to the apron… The Marmoset lifts the flap and crawls under the ri-

EXPLOSION

SAFARI STU IS BLOWN BACK TOWARD THE RAILING! The apron full-on lifts off the ringside, in tatters…

The marmoset…

Is gone.

TODD: Oh my God…

”Ohohohohohohohohooooooooo..” Schadenfreude Clown’s laughter echoes from above… ”If chour little friend washt nocht endangered before… You shertainly put him in dan-chure. Ohohohohohohooooooooo, how delicious…”

TODD: Now it sounds like Schadenfreude Clown is above Stu! Can… Can SF Clown throw his voice?

Safari Stu eyes upwards… his teeth grit… He loved that marmoset like a brother.

Now, this is personal…

12:11
12:10
12:09

Stu sniffs the air again as he creeps along the ramp, up toward the X-Tron…

TODD: Safari Stu is on the scent!

BAMA: But is he following Schadenfreude Clown… or is he just stepping exactly where Schadenfreude Clown wants him to be…

Stu walks under the X-Tron, beneath the screen….

”Ohohohohohohohohooooooooo..”

Stu’s gaze snaps up above the X-Tron!

Where Schadenfreude Clown is sitting on top of the scaffold above the X-Tron! Waving his fingers invitingly!

”Oh pleaaaaaashe… Won’t shomeone come catscht me und bring me to che ring? Ohohohohoho…” Schadenfreude’s legs kick delighted as they dangle off the X-Tron!

TODD: SF Clown is a sitting duck up there!

BAMA: That’s exactly why SF Clown wants Stu to think!

Stu cups his hand around his mouth and cries in a sound that is IDENTICAL in EVERY way to an eagle!

Cue a fucking eagle swooping in and landing on Stu’s arm!

TODD: …DId Safari Stu just summon an eagle from thin air?

BAMA: No, that would be stupid. It’s obviously an arena eagle.

TODD: …An arena eagle?

BAMA: An eagle whose natural habitat in a sports arena. Try to keep up, Toddrick, I can’t do both our jobs and only collect one paycheck.

Stu then points toward SF Clown!

SHRRRRRIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEK The eagle calls as it swoops high in the arena above SF Clown…

BEFORE SWOOPING DOWN TO CLAW AT SF CLOWN!

SF Clown is plucked off the X-Tron by his arms! The eagle swoops him into the air!

TODD: …Wow, I can’t believe Stu’s plan is working!

Stu calls to the bird, directing his avian friend to drag its prey back to the ring so Stu can claim victory!

The eagle caws!

…But in his massive wings, SF Clown reaches into his clown pants to retrieve…

A GIANT FEATHER! Almost as tall as SF Clown himself!

TODD: Man, what eagle do you think that feather came from, Bama?

SF Clown reaches in the eagle’s claws… AND TICKLES THE EAGLE!

The eagle caws, shaking its feathers to avoid being tickled!

Before it drops SF Clown in the rafters above the arena, (where the eagle makes its nest) and flying away!

Stu looks up! SF Clown is now at the top of the arena…

”Ohohohohohohooooooooooo…” SF Clown claps his hands with delight. ”Deshpite chour bescht effortsht… I am even furcher ah-way now chan when chis cat und mouse game began… OHohohohohohoho…”

…Stu smiles… Now, this is a challenge. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out…

A CLOWN HUNTING KNIFE!

TODD: A clown hunting knife!

BAMA: A knife for hunters specifically those hunting clowns! Have you ever even WATCHED anything on Animal Planet, Toddy baby?

Stu slides the knife in between his teeth… And hand-over-hand, begins free climbing the X-Tron!

BAMA: Stu is climbing the X-Tron himself! Closing the gap between himself and Schadenfreude Clown!

TODD: …Does he have to do that? Isn’t there, like… a ladder up the X-Tron or something?

BAMA: This is so much badass, Todd!

4:55
4:54
4:53

TODD: Admittedly, Stu free-climbing the X-Tron wasn’t the quickest way to get to the top of the arena where Schadenfreude Clown has perched himself… but it was VERY BADASS!

BAMA: Hell yeah, Todd. Hell yeah.

Stu, with the clown hunting knife between his teeth, has two climbing knives plunged into the arena roof… He stabs one into the metal above… then the other, each one drawing him closer and closer to the Arena Eagle’s empty nest where Schadenfreude Clown is sitting, smiling eerily…

TODD: Stu’s closing the distance! He’s just fifteen feet away now…

Stu determinedly sticks his knives closer and closer… Ten feet… Eight feet…

Si-

WHAM! Suddenly, a giant eagle egg catches Stu in the chest! His grip nearly slips as he clings onto his knives for dear life!

”Ohohohohohohooooooooooo…” SF Clown holds two more arena eagle eggs from the nest, one in each of his nefarious mitts. ”It wouldst shteem chat che huntah hast becomt che hunted! Ohohohohoho…”

TODD: Oh man! Stu thought he was closing the distance between himself and his prey… but Schadenfreude Clown is the one looking like the predator now!

Stu tries to cling to his knives… but one of them slips! The eagle egg yolk reduces his ability to grip! He clings to the other one with both hands for dear life!
”Ohohohohohohooooooooooo…” SF Clown reels back his egg… ”Preparsht to be schrambled and sherved shunny-shide up, you shilly-billy…”

SF Clown pitches the egg!

It catches Stu in the face!

His grip slips off the last knife!

AND HE’S FALLING!

TODD: Oh my God! That’s a sixty… no, eighty foot fall! No one could survive that!

Stu is falling! He whistles!

SHRRRRRIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEK

TODD: The arena eagle!

In one swoop! The arena eagle swoops through the air and catches Stu!

TODD: Oh thank God… i thought we were about to witness a horrifying death…

BAMA: Safari Stu lives! But he’s got almost no time to catch that dastardly Schadenfreude Clown!

Stu is gently set down in the center of the ring by the eagle…

He stares up at Schadenfreude Clown… And strokes his chin thoughtfully…

2:01
2:00
1:59

Schadenfreude Clown has mostly been sitting in his nest and laughing at Stu, who has gone back to the Safari Jeep he entered the arena in and is searching for something from which he can secure victory…

Stu retrieves…

[Image: 22059296_60c451f216.jpg]

A sting ray!

TODD: Oh man! Stu’s clearly going to…

…

TODD: What the Hell is gonna do with that thing, Bama?

BAMA: At this point, Stu’s just throwing shit at the wall. And I mean that literally, my best guess is he’s gonna throw that manta ray at the nearest wall!

”Ohohohohohohooooooooooo…” SF Clown claps his hands delightedly… ”Che deshperashun… Che hopeleshnesh… It’sht so divine…”

Stu takes the sting ray in his hands and points it up toward SF Clown…

TODD: I don’t think a manta ray is a projectile weapon, Bama…

Stu continues to point the manta ray at SF Clown menacin-

SHINK! The sting ray’s barb suddenly shoots backward into Stu’s gut!

TODD: Oh my God!

BAMA: Get the medical team out here! Quick!

Stu collapses onto one knee as he drops the sting ray, who is still embedded into Stu’s chest!

The crowd is horrified!

SF Clown… is DELIGHTED!

”OhohohohohohoooooooooooOOOOOOOOO Oh mein gott…” SF Clown claps his hands delightedly… ”Schtung by your own schting ray… Isht too gut. I must obsherve dish more closely to shavor it…”

SF Clown rappels down from the nest by the ringside…

0:59
0:58
0:57

Stu is on his knees… the sting ray continues to helplessly bob in midair in front of him… As SF Clown creeps closer….

”OhohohohohohoooooooooooOOOOOOOOO yessshh… Yesssh, I musht see dish…”

SF Clown pulls away Stu’s arms from his gaping wo-...

…WAIT! The manta ray’s barb didn’t pierce Stu’s chest at all!

TODD: Gasp! Stu laid a sting ray honeypot for Schadenfreude Clown!

BAMA: In any other context, those words would be gibberish, but as is, they perfectly describe what just happened!

Before SF Clown can even react, Stu snaps to, unsheathing his clown hunting knife and…. STABBING IT into SF Clown’s parachute pants, trapping him against the ramp!

”Ohhhhh noooooooOOoOOOOO!”

0:31
0:30
0:29

Now that Schadenfreude Clown is trapped, Safari Stu quickly takes a rope and hogties SF Clown’s hands and legs behind his back!

TODD: Stu’s taking control!

BAMA: But does he have enough time to heave his quarry back into the ring!

0:15
0:14
0:13

Stu tries to heave SF Clown back into the ring by force… But the clown is deadweighting him!

”OhohohohohohoooooooooooOOOOOOOOO yessshh… sho close… Yet sho far aw-”

SHRRRRRIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEK The EAGLE SWOOPS DOWN!

Plucks the hogtied SF Clown up!

And drops him into the ring!

DING DING DING!

Winner: Safari Stu

TODD: Oh my God! I can’t believe Safari Stu pulled it off!

BAMA: Stu could hunt any quarry! Animal, man, clown… And he proved it tonight!

During a break in the action, “Wild Thing” begins to play, causing the crowd to rise from their seats.

TODD: An unexpected appearance from CENTURION here.

CENTURION steps out from the back to a roar from the crowd, but CENTURION seems unable to enjoy it. His head is down, he still has a slight limp, and he has the old XWF Television Title over his shoulder.

BAMA: Hey, what’s he doing with that?! He lost the title!

CENTURION slowly limps down to the ring and gets to the ring, gingerly walking up the steel steps and into the ropes before asking for a mic.

CENTURION: Folks, I’m not here to take up too much of your time. There’s one person I want to speak to directly. MR. MUSK, I know you’re back there, if you could…

CENTURION gestures to the ring, and after a few moments, ELON MUSK steps out from the back, much to the displeasure of the crowd. He does not come out to his music, nor does he have his Segway, but he is flanked by various guards and aids.

BAMA: The last time MR. MUSK was in the ring with CENTURION, he was VIOLENTLY assaulted!

TODD: Elon got involved in CENTURION’S match at his anniversary show! Cent had every right to respond!

ELON walks down the ramp with a smug smile on his face as he and his entourage approach the ring. Two bodyguards go to step into the ring before him, but ELON calls them off, and he steps into the ring alone. He adjusts his suit and stands in front of CENTURION.

CENTURION: ELON, I stand before you, a broken and…humbled man. For months, I have fought this war against you. I have thrown everything I had at you and your surrogates, and then March Madness happens and…you beat me. You took my title, you left me humiliated, and you proved your power within this company and this industry. This…belongs to you.

CENTURION takes the old Television Title off his shoulder and hands it to ELON. ELON takes it and immediately, and rather disrespectfully, tosses it onto the mat behind him. ELON takes the mic out of CENTURION’S hand and speaks.

ELON: Honestly, Cent, I should be thanking you. There have been a lot of people walking around here thinking I don’t have any power, thinking I’m just some sort of money mark who doesn’t pay attention to what’s going on, but you proved to everyone just what happens when you cross ELON MUSK…

I…

Always…

Win…

ELON stares daggers into CENTURION’s eyes, but CENTURION does not respond. He just turns his head and walks back towards the ropes, right towards the group of aids and guards that arrived with ELON. They all part, allowing for CENTURION to climb out of the ring and walk a lonely path up the ramp way.

ELON: Oh Cent, one more thing…

…you’re fired!

The crowd reacts in a stunned hush, but CENTURION doesn’t even stop to turn around and face ELON. He just continues to walk up the ramp, leaving ELON laughing in the ring.

Let's light it up hits, and Deena Hixx comes out from behind the curtains and walks out on stage and skips on down the aisle and skips around the ring.

BAMA: Deena Hixx is a firecracker wrapped in kerosene, Toddrick! She’s less predictable than the lottery!

TODD: The Crazy Chick is out there, for sure! But, she seems intent on winning this match… and she’s very eager to prove she belongs in line for the Television Title!

BAMA: That’s proof positive that Deena’s out of her mind! Anyone that’s eager to get in the ring with Yelena Gorgo should be on suicide watch, because they have a death wish!

Deena slides into the ring and leans on the ropes with her legs crossed and waits for her Opponent to arrive.

…

The lights in the arena go deep blue as smoke fills the air. Pink and silver laser lights cut through the smoke and it looks fucking rad.

As Bobby's music blares throughout the arena, slowly walking out onto the entrance ramp is Bobby Bourbon. He looks out at the crowd in the arena, cold and stoic, surveying his surroundings. He stops and raises his fists at 45 degree angles, and continues his deliberate plod towards the ring.

TODD: And here he is! The two-time Universal champion! The one and only, BOBBY BOURBON!

BAMA: We were talking about predictability with Deena, but no talent is less predictable than Bobby Bourbon!

TODD: Agreed there, Bama. The only thing predictable about Bobby is that he gets results in that ring! Can Deena steal a win off one of the greats? Or will Bobby prove too much!

He raises both arms outward, accepting fives, slaps, daps, knucks, and touches as he does. He looks on into the ring, feeling the energy of every fan he makes contact with. He stops, and begins stomping in place, with the utmost joy to be in front of the XWF crowd. He stops a camera.

"I'm a bad, bad man, but like my home, the XWF, I have plenty of bad, bad fans!"

Bobby climbs the steps, then climbs the nearest ring post half way and raises his fists at 45 degree angles. The lights go back to normal and the music stops. The fans in attendance all echo their sentiments for the match.

"fuck 'em up, bobby, fuck 'em up." stomp stomp. "fuck 'em up, Bobby, fuck 'em up." stomp stomp. "Fuck 'Em Up Bobby, Fuck 'Em Up!" STOMP STOMP! "FUCK 'EM UP BOBBY, FUCK 'EM UP!!!" STOMP STOMP!

Bobby acknowledges the crowd. They roar. Bobby looks back at his opponent.

TODD: Folks, this isn’t only Deena Hixx versus Bobby Bourbon! This match is X-TREME RULES!

BAMA: Get your blood tarps ready, front-row! This one could turn into a gore Gallagher show!

DING DING!

DEENA HIXX
- vs -
BOBBY BOURBON

X-TREME RULES!

HIGHLIGHT REEL

The moment the bell rings, Deena charges Bobby like a feral animal, leaping through the air!

Hixx leaps onto Bobby and starts clawing and scratching at him, trying to bring him down to the mat!

TODD: Wow! No slow start here from Deena Hixx!

BAMA: Deena, starting off the match that could only be described as ‘Rabid Howler Monkey Determined to Spread the T-Virus onto Humankind!’

Bobby raises his arms in a casual guard as Deena’s animalistic attacks seek to overwhelm his defenses!

…But in a snap motion, Bobby pushes his hands up, launching the much lighter Deena into the air…

And… EUROPEAN POLISH UPPERCUT! Deena gets dropped to the mat as the crowd erupts!

TODD: Wow! Bobby just turned Deena over like a cabbage roll in the oven!

BAMA: Bourbon can call himself a chef, cuz Deena just got COOKED on that one!

Bobby cranks his neck side-to-side, like this is too easy for him…

But from the mat, like a rabid rat, Deena coils… AND BITES ON BOURBON’S ANKLE!

Bourbon, in shock, goes to one knee… Deena surges up to meet him and the two start striking each other wildly on the mat!

TODD: I think Bobby was seeking to be above Deena’s frenzied offense… but I think Deena forced Bobby onto her level with that bite!

BAMA: Bobby literally just came back from injury, now he’s gotta get a shot for Rabies… and maybe Bipolar Disorder if Deena’s is contagious!

Deena manages to scamper up to her feet as Bobby slowly rises from the mat to one knee…

WHAM! Deena catches him with a kick to the chest!

A second!

A third!

TODD: Deena Hixx might have one of the single sharpest strikes in the game! Bobby isn’t blocking one of them!

BAMA: That seems like a choice on Bobby’s part though, Toddrick!

Indeed, Bobby lets his hands hang by his sides as he tanks kicks to the chest, standing up a little taller with each strike…

Deena backs up a step, looking for a…

HEAD KICK!

…But Bobby catches her boot! Drags her leg across his chest and…

EXPLODER SUPLEX! Deena gets launched INSIDE OUT, landing in a giant heap!

The crowd chants for Bobby!

"Fuck 'Em Up Bobby, Fuck 'Em Up!" STOMP STOMP! "FUCK 'EM UP BOBBY, FUCK 'EM UP!!!" STOMP STOMP!

Bobby nods knowingly at the crowd, before rolling outside the ring, much to the crowd’s delight…

TODD: Uh oh! I think Bobby’s taking this exactly where the crowd wants it…

BAMA To the EXTREEEEEEEEEME, Toddy baby!

As Deena stretches her neck, cradling her back inside the ring… Bobby is outside, reaching under the apron…

He retrieves…

A kendo stick!

The crowd pops!

…Bobby sneers, displeased, shaking his head, before hurling it like a javelin into the crowd!

TODD: That’ll be a souvenir for some lucky fan! But insufficient for Bobby’s X-Treme tastes!

Bobby reaches back under the ropes… He retrieves…

A weighted chess set.

TODD: OH DEAR GOD, NO! NOT MORE CHESS WRESTLING!

…Bobby strokes his chin. Before shaking his head and putting it back under the apron…

Bobby looks under the apron… And turns back to the crowd with a smile, nodding his head…

TODD: Oh! I think Bourbon found what he was looking for…

Inside the ring, Deena pulls herself up using the ropes, back to her knees… As Bobby slowly pulls out…

…

A FULL-LENGTH DINING TABLE! COVERED IN CULINARY DELIGHTS FROM UNDERCELEBRATED EASTERN EUROPEAN CUISINE HUBS!

UKRANIAN BORSCHT!

SHASHLIK FROM UZBEKISTAN!

AJARULI KHACHAPURI FROM GEORGIA!

(The country, not the state)

BAMA: …Okay, not gonna lie. Didn’t see that coming, that Bobby would bring out a menagerie of culinary wonders.

TODD: It wouldn’t be a Bobby Bourbon match if it wasn’t full of surprises!

Bobby carefully straightens the tablecloth, which of course, sports the logo of Global Culinary Challenge…

…As inside the ring, Deena shoves off the ropes!

TODD: Sacre bleu! Bobby might have taken too long with this one! Deena’s headed right for him!

Bobby turns around toward the ring…

JUST AS DEENA SOMERSAULTS OVER THE ROPES!

PLANCHA! PLANCHA DRIVING BOURBON AND HIXX THROUGH THE TABLE! ALL THOSE DISHES BOBBY PREPARED GO SKY HIGH! FOOD GOES FLYING EVERYWHERE!

Bits of cuisine fly into the front-row (which, thankfully, actually was provided tarps for this match)

TODD: The Borscht just got blitzed! The Shashlik has been eighty-sixed!

BAMA: I don’t know how to pronounce… Asia-rule-ee Kotch-a-pure-ay? But however you say it, no one’s eating it unless you want to consume it off Bourbon’s skull!

Bourbon’s immobile on the outside… As Hixx crawls arm over arm toward him!

TODD: It’s X-Treme Rules! That means falls count anywhere!

The official slides under the bottom rope and gets in position to count…

Just as Hixx drapes an arm over Bourbon!

ONE!

TWO!

THR-NO! Bobby forces a shoulder up!

Bobby slowly pulls himself up by the railing around the ring, as Deena giggles to herself, doing a Voldo walk by the apron…

BAMA: …Something’s wrong with that Deena chick.

Bobby lifts himself up…

As Deena somersaults backwards…

And DRIVES her boots into Bobby’s chin! Bobby gets drilled against the railing! He almost goes over and into the front row!

Before collapsing forward onto his face!

Deena has backed up against the railing, as Bobby shakes the cobwebs off… The outside of the ring is covered in Eastern European food bits!

BAMA: Looks like Deena and Bobby are the last two standing in a giant food fight, Toddrick!

TODD: And it looks like Deena’s about to try and make herself the last woman standing!

As Bobby slowly works his way up to one knee, Deena charges! Her boots flies through the air as she seeks a…

DEENA WIZARD ON THE OUTSIDE!

…

But Bobby catches Deena on his shoulders!

TODD: Oh no! That’s NOT where Deena wants to be!

In a feat of great strength, Bobby hoists Deena up in the air, finding his footing!

Deena’s hands surge to rake Bobby’s eyes…

BUT NOT BEFORE BOBBY DELIVERS A…

BOBBY BOMB TO THE OUTSIDE!

TODD: Oh SHIT! That sounded gnarly!

BAMA: That smack of Deena’s back on the ground sounded like a sack of wet meat getting thrown against a moving car!

The official drops to co-

BOBBY HEAVES DEENA OFF THE PADDED CONCRETE!

TODD: Oh God! Really?!?

BAMA: How strong is Bobby Bourbon?!?

Bobby heaves the quasi-conscious Deena off the padded concrete and lifts his finger in the air, as if asking the crowd ‘want one more?’

They scream!

WHAM!

DOUBLE-BOBBY BOMB TO THE OUTSIDE!

And this time, Bobby forces Deena’s shoulders against the padding!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

Winner: Bobby Bourbon

TODD: What a match! What a spectacle! Deena Hixx pulled out every trick she could have to try and get the upset over her opponent…

BAMA: But Bobby Bourbon is tougher than a well-done steak made of old boots! He took a licking and he kept on ticking! An impressive showing by Robert Alva Bourbon!

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. 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.

Todd: It’s the workhorse of Anarchy: Mr. Oz! Listen to the crowd go wild!

Bama: Mr. Oz may be a multi-billionaire, but I swear he still takes bookings like the rent is due! He spent months having 3 different matches on every Anarchy, he partook in the March Madness tournament, and he even made an appearance on the latest episode of Warfare! I swear to you, Mr. Oz might run Chicago, but you can find him everywhere these days!

Todd: He’s like a weapon of war, Bama, because he just charges towards the fight every time. But tonight, he might be biting off more than he can chew…when he takes on the one and only Apathy!

The sound of a vintage picture reel began to click and pop, the screen illuminating up counting down like a picture show. The pops, scratches, nicks and debris covered the screen, the numbers counting down, 5...4....3....2....1....as the reel continued, electric synth music cuts, industrial and ominous

The road I walk is paved in gold
To glorify my platinum soul
I'll buy my way to talk to God
So he can live with what I'm not

On the screen, a barrage of action shots, in still form from Apathy's career, centered and fixated, like an old film would. As the arena went down, red and white lights bathing the fans in a sea of color, Elizabeth rises from beneath the stage, head lowered, arms outstretched. A mixed chorus of boos, jeers and cheers pelted at her. She gradually raises her head, soaking in the animosity and fervent support. Inhaling it like a drug

This selfish blood runs through my veins
I gave up everything for fame
I am the lie that humans are
I feed the rich and fuck the poor

As the heavy bass kicks in and the words reverberate through the arena, she snaps her head up, a cocky self-assured smirk creeping across her lips as she saunters her way to the ring casually engaging towards the fans either encouraging more of their venomous verbal harassment or acknowledging the respect and adoration from her legions and devotees, basking in the glow

I got what you want
It just don't stop

I got what you want
It just don't stop
This is entertainment
Lies are entertainment
You are down on your knees
Begging me for more

Todd: Apathy had a tough draw in the first round of March Madness, but tonight on Anarchy she’s coming back for more!

Bama: Apathy has a long and storied career in professional wrestling, but this is just her second match in the XWF! A marquee win over Mr. Oz tonight could catapult Apathy into the next echelon!

Todd: That’s the truth, Bama! Mr. Oz is an XWF icon, and a win over him would prove to everyone that Apathy’s ceiling is limitless!

MR. OZ
- vs -
APATHY

X-TREME RULES!

Highlight Reel

When the bell rings, Mr. Oz charges out of his corner like a raging bull! Apathy charges forward with matching tenacity! Oz tries to throw out a huge clothesline, but Apathy ducks beneath it before taking to the ropes. Apathy bounces off the ropes and sprints towards Oz-

She sprints right into Oz’s big boot!

Apathy falls to the mat, but quickly scrambles back up.

But Oz is already waiting for her!

As soon as Apathy rises, Oz grabs her by the collarbone before throwing her across the ring with a hip toss! Apathy flies to the other side of the ring, but she wastes in time in trying to get back up-

But Mr. Oz is a split second faster!

He delivers a running knee into Apathy’s jaw as she tries to stand! Apathy goes flying out of the ring, between the second and the third ropes!

Mr. Oz smirks at the destruction before following his opponent out of the ring.

Bama: Oz is giving Apathy a hell of an Anarchy welcome! He’s giving her no space, no peace, and no quarter!

Todd: Mr. Oz is used to wrestling three matches a night, but with only one Oz match on the card, I think he’s dishing out three-times his usual violence!

Bama: Thank God this is an X-treme Rules match, Todd- because I can’t wait to see what else Mr. Oz has in store for Apathy’s Anarchy debut!

Apathy tries to use the ringside barrier to get back on her feet, but Mr. Oz isn’t giving her any time to recover!

Mr. Oz delivers a striking spear that slams Apathy into the barrier, and right back to the ground!

Then, Oz grabs Apathy by the neck and begins squeezing the life out of her!

Apathy’s lips start to turn blue, and Oz sports a sickening grin as he chokes her harder and harder.

Todd: Mr. Oz is going psycho tonight!

Bama: He’s not trying to win a match, Todd- he’s trying to send a message! And I think it’s working!

Apathy claws at Oz’s hands, trying to get him to release the hold. Oz doesn't relent.

So Apathy starts throwing wild punches from the bottom, trying to land one flush!

SHE CONNECTS!

A big, awkward haymaker connects straight to Oz’s chin. Oz is forced off of Apathy, stumbling backwards while Apathy gasps for air.

Apathy and Oz scramble back to their feet, but Oz is still a split second faster.

So Mr. Oz charges in while Apathy is against the barricade-

Oz goes for a shoulder tackle-

But Apathy dodges it, sliding out of the way just in time!

Oz’s shoulder slams against the barricade with a sickening thud! The fans in the front row grimace as they hear it up close and personal!

Giving Oz no time to rest, Apathy is right on him! She delivers a few stiff kicks to his head before she lifts him up by his collarbone.

Then, she Irish Whips Oz into the steel staircase!

Oz’s massive body collides with the steps!

The sound of the crash rings out all across the arena!

The steps are dislodged from the post, as Oz’s body is strewn all across the steel!

Apathy wipes some blood off her mouth before walking over-

And delivering a jumping face stomp to Oz, while his head is against the steel steps!

Mr. Oz thrashes wildly as his head is forcibly rammed in between the boot and the steel!

Todd: Apathy has taken complete control of this match! She has Mr. Oz right where she wants him: flailing around on the outside!

Bama: Oz took a few nasty shots there, Todd, but he’s not out of it yet! I get the sense that this match is only just getting started!

Apathy picks up Mr. Oz, delivering a few stiff body shots to him before she sets him up for a move on the outside. Apathy pauses for a few seconds, then, she throws Oz into the air with a beautiful overhead belly to belly suplex! She throws Oz against the ringside apron, his spine snapping against the ring before he crashes back down to the ground!

Oz lay on the ground, clutching his lower back in pain, whilst Apathy begins rooting around under the ring.

Oz starts crawling towards the ringside barrier as Apathy is lost in the wonders beneath the ring.

But once Oz is finally able to stand, Apathy pulls out her weapon of choice.

A barbed-wire wrapped baseball bat.

Oz’s eyes go wide as he sees Apathy grinning from ear to ear.

Todd: This isn’t looking so good for Mr. Oz! Apathy has a barbed-wire bat and some bad intentions!

Bama: Mr. Oz needs to get out of dodge, or this could get ugly!

But Mr. Oz isn’t the kind to flee.

He waits patiently, resting against the ringside barrier as Apathy walks his way with vicious intent.

Apathy raises the bat overhead-

And brings it crashing down-

On the ringside barrier!

Mr. Oz moves away just in time!

Apathy tries to pull the bat back for another swing:

But it’s stuck on the barrier! The wire is trapped!

Apathy stands there and tries to force the bat out of the barrier, but it’s not working!

Oz seizes the opportunity!

Oz delivers a brutal kick right to Apathy’s knee, forcing her to cry out in pain and stumble backwards. She releases the bat as she brings her hands down to her knee.

But Oz doesn't let her stumble very far.

Oz grabs Apathy by her wrestling gear, raises her into the sky-

Before planting her back down with a Double A Spinebuster!

The sound of her back cracking against the ground echoes throughout the arena!

Mr. Oz doesn’t delay-

He grabs Apathy one more time as he slides her into the ring under the bottom rope.

But Mr. Oz doesn’t follow.

Instead, he lifts up the ringside apron and begins searching for a tool of his own.

Todd: Mr. Oz might be looking for his favorite weapon down there!

Bama: And if he finds it, then Apathy is in BIG, BIG trouble!

Apathy crawls around in the ring, trying to regain her bearings while Oz searches beneath the ring.

After a few moments, Oz finally finds what he’s been looking for.

A steel ladder.

Mr. Oz slides the ladder into the ring, and he rolls in right behind it.

When Mr. Oz gets into the ring, he picks up the ladder and leans it against the corner turnbuckle. Then, he sets his sights back upon Apathy.

Mr. Oz tries to pick Apathy up into a facelock-

But Apathy has another plan!

Apathy delivers a few gut-wrenching blows to Oz’s midsection, forcing the back man to back up. Then, Apathy grabs a hold of Oz for a Spinning Neck Breaker! The ring rattles as they both fall to the mat!

But Apathy pops right back up!

She delivers a few stiff boots to Oz before she grabs him, lifting him into a front facelock of her own-

Then, she lifts Oz into position for a suplex-

A suplex right into the corner!

A suplex right onto the very ladder that Oz set up!

Oz’s body slams into the steel before crashing to the mat!

Oz rolls away from the corner, trying to put some space between him and Apathy-

But once again, Apathy has another plan.

She grabs the ladder out of the corner, and walks over towards Oz.

Oz tries to stand-

But Apathy swings the ladder at him!

Oz raises his hands to protect himself-

But they’re no use against the steel!

The ladder slams against Oz, driving him back down to the mat!

Apathy hits him again with the ladder!

Twice more!

And once again for good measure!

Todd: The referee needs to do something! Apathy is assaulting Oz with that ladder! He’s not able to defend himself from twenty pounds of steel!

Bama: The referee can’t do anything, Todd: this is an X-treme Rules match! And that means whatever Apathy wants, Apathy does!

Apathy stares down at the wreckage of Mr. Oz- bloodied and bruised- before a twisted grin stretches across her lips. Apathy throws the ladder outside of the ring. Then, she grabs Oz and lifts him back into a standing position.

She lifts him right into….

The Butterfly Effect!

Apathy wraps her arms around Oz's waist, and begins delivering German Suplex’s as many times as possible! A half dozen, a dozen, two dozen German Suplexes rattle the ring as Apathy swings Oz around like a crash test dummy!

Mr. Oz lay flat against the mat, bloodied and breathless, completely unresponsive to the referee. But Apathy doesn’t care. She pushes the referee out of the way before she starts once more upon Mr. Oz!

Apathy walks over to Oz and then grabs their leg, then she holds it up crossing her leg in and grabs the other leg. She then forcefully turns her foe over onto their chest and then grabs their arms and locks her arms underneath their arms, holding them above the mat!

Bama: Affliction! Affliction! She’s locked it in!

Todd: This has to be it for Mr. Oz! Just ring the damn bell! She’s going to kill him!

The referee asks Mr. Oz if he wants to quit, but Oz doesn’t respond! He doesn’t even scream! He just lays there limp, completely unconscious whilst Apathy rips his body apart!

The referee has no choice but to call for the bell!

Winner - Apathy

Apathy releases the hold, letting Oz’s body fall to the mat. Apathy stands tall and waits for the referee to raise her hand, but he’s too busy throwing up an X with his arms! A medical team rushes down the ramp, sliding into the ring and checking on Oz.

Todd: Oh…my….God. Apathy is a MONSTER in that ring! She took Oz way past his limit, and now, he needs urgent medical attention!

Bama: That Apathy chick is one bad bitch, Todd: and she just put the entire Anarchy roster on notice.

Todd: We’re going to cut to a quick commercial break so Oz can get rushed to a hospital. Please bare with us folks, because we will be right back with tonight’s co-main event matchup!

The air in the arena is thick, a pressurized mixture of stale popcorn, pyrotechnic sulfur, and the electric hum of ten thousand fans screaming for blood. This isn’t a standard exhibition; this is Anarchy, and the ringside area is already a graveyard of hardware. Three tables are leaned against the barricades like headstones, waiting for names to be carved into them.

Todd: "Listen to this capacity crowd! The tension is so thick you’d need a chainsaw to get through it. Welcome to XWF Anarchy, I’m Todd, and joined as always by the most opinionated man in the business, Bama. Tonight, we settle a grudge that has spilled out of the locker rooms and into the streets."

Bama: "Cut the fluff, Todd. These two women hate each other's guts. This isn't about points or rankings. A Tables Match is about the physical manifestation of 'over.' You don't just beat someone; you break something under them. It’s psychological warfare with a side of splinters."

The lights flicker, a strobe effect cutting through the smoke as the heavy bass of Jenny Myst’s entrance theme rattles the ribcages of the front row. She emerges not with her usual theatrical flair, but with a cold, predatory gait. Her eyes are fixed on the ring, ignoring the outstretched hands of the fans.

Todd: "There she is. The enigma herself, Jenny Myst. She looks focused, Bama. Almost dangerously so."

Bama: "She’s got that 'Identity Crisis' locked and loaded in her brain, Todd. But to hit it, she’s gotta get Summer Page stationary long enough to climb those ropes. Against a brawler like Page? Good luck."

JENNY MYST
- vs -
SUMMER PAGE

TABLES MATCH!

Highlight Reel

The referee barely signals for the bell before the two collide in the center of the ring. It’s not a collar-and-elbow tie-up; it’s a car crash. Summer swings a wild right hand that Myst ducks, countering with a sharp kick to the inner thigh. Page grunts, stepping back, but Myst is relentless, firing off a flurry of forearm shivers that back Page into the turnbuckle.

Todd: "Myst with the speed advantage early! She’s lighting up Page in the corner!"

Bama: "Speed is great until you hit a wall, Todd. And Summer Page is a brick wall with a bad attitude."

Page catches Myst’s third strike, her fingers locking around Myst’s wrist like a vise. With a primal roar, Page uses her superior strength to whip Myst across the ring. Myst hits the opposite turnbuckle hard, the padding doing little to soften the blow. Before she can bounce off, Page is there, burying a shoulder into Myst’s midsection.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Todd: "Page is tenderizing the ribs! Every one of those drives is knocking the air out of Jenny Myst’s lungs. In a match where you need your breath to climb the turnbuckles, that’s a veteran strategy."

Bama: "She’s trying to fold her in half! Look at the leverage!"

Page pulls Myst out of the corner and goes for a short-arm clothesline, but Myst slides underneath, showing off that uncanny agility. As Page turns around, Myst leaps, catching her in a sleeper hold, wrapping her legs around Page’s waist.

Todd: "Myst is like a backpack! She’s trying to choke the life out of Summer Page!"

Page staggers, her face turning a deep shade of crimson as she moves toward the center of the ring. She isn't panicking, though. She’s calculating. She backs up at full speed, slamming Myst’s spine against the turnbuckle. Myst holds on. Page does it again, even harder. On the third attempt, the grip loosens, and Page flips Myst over her shoulder, sending her crashing to the mat.

Bama: "High risk, high reward, Todd. Myst tried to play the technical game, but Page just used gravity and a wooden post to solve that problem."

Summer Page doesn't go for a cover—she can't. Instead, she rolls out of the ring. The crowd erupts as she reaches under the ring apron, the metallic clank of searching through the arsenal echoing. She pulls out the first table.

Todd: "Here we go. The first piece of furniture is entering the equation. Summer Page is setting the stage for Jenny Myst’s demise."

Bama: "Look at the sweat already pouring off them, Todd. We’re only five minutes in and they’re already breathing like they’ve run a marathon. This ring is a pressure cooker."

Page slides the table into the ring, but as she climbs onto the apron, Myst is there. A baseball slide kick catches Page square in the chest, sending her flying backward into the barricade. The table is left sitting harmlessly in the middle of the ring, a silent omen.

Myst doesn't wait. She follows Page to the floor, her boots hitting the concrete with a heavy crack. She grabs Page by the hair, but Summer fights back, slamming Myst’s head into the edge of the announcer’s table.

Bama: "Watch the monitors! Watch the monitors!"

Todd: "Right in front of us! Summer Page just bounced Myst’s skull off the mahogany! Jenny looks out on her feet!"

Page grabs a cable from the floor—a thick, black camera lead—and wraps it around Myst’s throat, pulling back. It’s illegal in a standard match, but here, the referee can only watch and plead.

Bama: "Legal as a handshake in this match, Todd! Page is trying to diminish the oxygen flow. You can't hit a 630 splash if you're unconscious!"

Myst flails, her fingers clawing at Page’s eyes. She finds a mark, raking her nails across Page’s forehead. The grip breaks. Myst gasps for air, staggering toward the steel steps. Page, blinded by the sting and the sudden rush of adrenaline, charges like a bull. Myst moves at the last microsecond.

CRANG.

Todd: "Summer Page just ate the steel ring steps! Her shoulder took the full force of that impact!"

Bama: "That’s a collarbone snapper right there. You see the way she hit? That’s dead weight hitting solid steel."

Myst, sensing the shift in momentum, grabs Page and rolls her back into the ring. The table is still there, folded up. Myst grabs it, her muscles straining as she leans it upright in the corner of the ring. She isn't setting it up on its legs yet; she’s creating a literal wall of wood.

Todd: "What is Myst thinking here? She’s propping that table up in the turnbuckle."

Bama: "She’s looking to launch Summer through it like a lawn dart. It’s about the impact, Todd. The table doesn't care if it’s standing on four legs or leaning on a pole—it just wants to break."

Myst drags Page up by the gear. She hooks the arms, looking for a suplex, aiming right for that leaning table. Page blocks it. She digs her heels into the mat, refusing to leave the ground. She counters with a vertical suplex of her own, lifting Myst high into the air.

Todd: "Page has her up! Is she going to drop her through the table?!"

Myst wiggles mid-air, shifting her weight. She lands on her feet behind Page and shoves her forward. Page stops herself inches before hitting the wood. She turns around into a superkick from Myst!

Whack!

Page falls back, her body thudding against the table, but the wood holds. It doesn't break.

Bama: "The table stayed intact! Page is leaning against it, dazed, but she’s still in this match. That table is sturdier than it looks!"

Todd: "Myst is going for it! She’s looking at the opposite corner. She’s measuring the distance. She wants to end this early!"

Myst charges across the ring, looking for a corner spear to drive Page through the wood, but at the last second, Page recovers, sidestepping the attack. Myst hits the table—but her body merely bounces off it as Page catches her in a side-slam position.

Bama: "Look out! Page has the grip! Side-effect onto the edge of the table!"

Todd: "No! Myst escapes! They’re trading blows again! This is absolute brutality!"

The two women stand in the center of the ring, forehead to forehead, trading massive forearm shots. Crack. Thud. Crack. Neither is backing down. The crowd is on their feet, chanting for the tables, but the competitors are lost in the violence of the moment.

Bama: "This is what XWF Anarchy is all about, Todd. Two athletes, one goal, and a whole lot of insurance claims waiting to happen."

Todd: "We are just getting started, folks. This match is a powder keg, and the fuse is burning short! We are ten minutes into this war, and the ring is starting to look like a construction site gone wrong! Both Jenny Myst and Summer Page are wearing the physical toll of this Anarchy atmosphere. Look at the bruising on the ribs of Myst!"

Bama: "Bruises heal, Todd. Wood doesn’t. These two have been playing a game of 'who blinks first' with that table in the corner, and so far, the furniture is winning. But look at Summer—she’s tired of the finesse. She’s going for the heavy artillery."

Summer Page wipes a smear of crimson from her lip, her eyes narrowing as she stalks Myst. She doesn’t go for a strike. Instead, she kicks the propped-up table flat onto the canvas, then stomps on the metal legs, locking them into place. She isn't just setting up a move; she’s building an altar for the end of the match.

Todd: "Page has the table positioned perfectly in the center of the ring. She’s dragging Myst up by the hair—this is pure disrespect!"

Bama: "It’s not disrespect, it’s control. You control the head, you control the body."

Page hooks Myst’s head under her arm, signaling for a vertical suplex. She lifts Myst into the air, holding her there, letting the blood rush to Myst’s head. The crowd is screaming, half in horror, half in anticipation.

Todd: "She’s got her vertical! She’s looking to drop her straight through the grain!"

Bama: "Hold on—Myst is fighting it! Look at those knees!"

In mid-air, Myst begins driving her knees into the crown of Summer’s head. The momentum shifts. Myst slips down Page’s back, landing on her feet. In one fluid motion, she catches Page around the waist and delivers a German Suplex! Page’s back hits the canvas with a sickening thud, narrowly missing the edge of the table.

Todd: "Centimeters! Summer Page was centimeters away from a trip to the local trauma center!"

Bama: "Myst is gasping for air, Todd. That suplex took everything she had left in the tank. But she can't rest. In a Tables Match, if you’re resting, you’re losing."

Myst rolls to the outside, her hands searching under the ring apron again. She pulls out a second table, then a third. She slides them both into the ring, stacking them near the turnbuckle.

Todd: "A stack? Bama, she’s setting up a double-decker! Jenny Myst is looking to turn this into a catastrophe!"

Bama: "She’s a visionary of violence, Todd. One table is a statement. Two tables is a funeral service. But she’s taking too much time. Look at Summer."

Summer Page has crawled to the far corner, using the ropes to pull herself up. Her breathing is ragged, but her eyes are predatory. As Myst climbs back into the ring, Page meets her with a thunderous Big Boot that sends Myst reeling back against the ropes. Page follows up with a series of devastating headbutts.

Crack. Crack. Crack.

Todd: "The sound of those skulls colliding! Page is sacrificing her own well-being just to rattle Myst’s cage!"

Bama: "That’s the 'Bama Way,' Todd! You give a little to take a lot. Myst is wobbling. She’s like a tall building in an earthquake."

Page grabs Myst and whips her toward the stack of tables. Myst manages to put on the brakes, sliding to a halt just before impact. She turns around, but Page is already there, catching her in a bearhug. Page begins to squeeze, the air audibly escaping Myst’s lungs.

Todd: "The life is being crushed out of Jenny Myst! Page is using that raw power to neutralize the high-flyer."

Bama: "She’s cracking the ribs, Todd. You heard that pop? That’s the sound of Myst’s title aspirations being compressed. Page is looking at those stacked tables. She’s thinking Overhead Belly-to-Belly. She wants to launch her!"

Page shifts her grip, prepared to throw, but Myst reaches back and rakes her fingers across Summer’s face. It’s a desperate move, but effective. Page screams, releasing the hold to clutch at her eyes. Myst doesn't waste a heartbeat. She hits a spinning heel kick that sends Page stumbling back toward the center-ring table.

Todd: "Myst with the opening! She’s got Summer dazed near the primary table!"

Bama: "Go for the ropes, Myst! Do it now while she’s blind!"

Myst doesn't go for the ropes yet. She’s too exhausted. Instead, she goes for a high-risk Russian Leg Sweep. Both women crash toward the mat, and the back of Summer’s head clips the corner of the table.

Todd: "Oh! The back of the head! Page hit the steel mounting of the table leg. That’s a nightmare scenario."

Bama: "Both women are down! This match has devolved into a war of attrition. Who wants it more, Todd? Who is willing to crawl through the splinters?"

The referee checks on both competitors. There’s a smear of blood on the canvas now—it’s unclear whose it is. Myst is the first to move, dragging herself toward the ropes. Every movement looks like she’s pulling a freight train. She grabs the middle rope, pulling herself up, but her legs give out. She falls back to her knees.

Todd: "The spirit is willing, but the body is screaming 'no.' Jenny Myst is trying to find the strength to climb."

On the other side of the ring, Summer Page is up. She’s a mess. Her hair is matted with sweat and grit, and she’s favoring her left arm. She sees Myst struggling and a sadistic grin crosses her face. She doesn’t go for the kill yet. She goes for the hardware.

Page grabs the single table in the center and moves it closer to the turnbuckle where the other two are stacked. She’s creating a "kill zone"—a triangular arrangement of wood and steel.

Bama: "She’s building a furniture store in the ring! Todd, if anyone goes down in that area, they aren't getting up until the 2027 season."

Todd: "Summer Page pulls Myst up. She’s got her in position for a Powerbomb! She’s looking at the stack! This is it! This is the end!"

Page hoists Myst onto her shoulders. The crowd is a wall of sound. Page takes a step toward the stacked tables, but Myst starts punching wildly at Summer’s temples. One, two, three rights! Page staggers. Her knees buckle. She doesn't drop Myst through the tables—she drops her onto the apron.

Bama: "A narrow escape for Myst! She’s on the apron, but she’s still in the danger zone."

Page, frustrated and bleeding, charges at the apron. Myst grabs the top rope and pulls it down. Summer’s momentum carries her over the top! But she doesn't hit the floor. She lands on her feet on the outside, immediately grabbing Myst’s ankles and pulling her off the apron.

THUD.

Todd: "Myst’s face just bounced off the edge of the ring! And Summer Page isn't done—she’s clearing the floor! She’s throwing the protective mats back!"

Bama: "Concrete! We’re talking about zero-give concrete, Todd. This is where careers end."

Page grabs a table from the floor and sets it up right against the barricade. She grabs Myst by the throat, looking for a Chokeslam onto the concrete, or perhaps through the barricade-table. Myst fights back, driving an elbow into Page’s throat. Myst jumps onto the barricade, balancing like a tightrope walker.

Todd: "Look at the balance of Jenny Myst! On top of the guardrail!"

Bama: "Don't jump! It’s too far!"

Myst leaps—a massive crossbody off the barricade—sending both women crashing into the concrete floor. The impact is hollow, a sound that makes the front row wince.

Todd: "They’re both broken! The referee is starting a count, but it doesn't matter—there are no count-outs! They could stay out there all night!"

Bama: "That was a suicide mission, Todd. Myst just gambled her entire spine on a crossbody to the floor. Look at them... they’re crawling. They’re literally crawling back toward the ring."

Myst is the first to reach the apron, her fingers digging into the canvas. She slides back in, followed seconds later by a snarling Summer Page. The two women meet on their knees in the center of the ring, trading slow, heavy punches.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

The crowd starts chanting: "THIS IS ANARCHY! THIS IS ANARCHY!"

Todd: "You hear that? The fans know they’re witnessing something special. These two are leaving everything in this ring."

Bama: "They’re leaving skin and blood, too. Look at Summer’s eye—it’s starting to swell shut. She can’t see the table! She doesn’t know how close she is!"

As they trade shots, they drift closer to the table Summer set up earlier. Myst sees it. She blocks a punch, hits a kick to the gut, and attempts a standing moonsault, but Page moves! Myst lands on her feet, but her momentum carries her right into a spinning spinebuster from Page!

Todd: "Spinebuster! But the table! It didn't break!"

Bama: "They hit the mat right next to it! The table is mocking them, Todd! It’s sitting there, perfectly intact, while these two are falling apart."

Summer Page screams in frustration. She grabs the table and throws it across the ring. It slides, hitting the ropes and bouncing back. She is losing her mind. She grabs Myst and starts slamming her head into the turnbuckle over and over.

Todd: "Summer has lost it! The frustration of not being able to finish this is boiling over!"

Bama: "This is when you get sloppy, Todd. And in a match with Jenny Myst, sloppy gets you a one-way ticket to the 'Identity Crisis'."

Summer pulls Myst out of the corner, looking for one last Powerbomb. She lifts her, but her lower back gives out—the result of that German Suplex earlier. She drops Myst. Myst lands on her feet, dizzy but functional. She hits a superkick that sends Page stumbling back, finally draping her across the table that Page had thrown earlier.

Todd: "This is it! Page is down! She’s on the wood! Myst is looking at the turnbuckle!"

Bama: "The tables are turned, literally! But can Myst climb? Look at her legs shaking!"

Myst reaches for the turnbuckle, her hand trembling. She looks at the crowd, then at the broken woman on the table, then up at the rafters.

Todd: "We are on the verge of history or tragedy, Bama! Jenny Myst is heading for the sky!"

Bama: "Godspeed, kid. You’re gonna need it."

Todd: "This is it, Bama! The moment of truth! Jenny Myst is perched on that top turnbuckle, looking down at a broken Summer Page. Page is draped over that table like a sacrifice, but look—she’s stirring! She’s trying to roll off!"

Bama: "She can’t move fast enough, Todd! Myst is locked in. She’s staring a hole through Summer’s soul. This isn’t just about winning a match anymore—this is about an exclamation point on a career!"

The arena has gone deathly silent, the kind of silence that precedes a lightning strike. Jenny Myst stands tall on the narrow wooden sanctuary of the ring post. Her chest is heaving, her gear is stained with the grit of the ringside floor, and her eyes are wide with a mix of exhaustion and pure, unadulterated adrenaline.

Todd: "She’s taking flight! IDENTITY CRISIS!"

Myst launches. It’s a terrifying display of physics and fearlessness. She twists her body in mid-air, a 630-degree rotation that seems to defy the very concept of gravity, blending into the corkscrew snap of the Twisted Bliss. She hangs in the air for a heartbeat that feels like an eternity, a spinning silhouette against the bright arena lights.

Bama: "LOOK OUT BELOW!"

CRASH.

The sound is like a gunshot echoing through the rafters. The table doesn't just break; it disintegrates. The center of the wood snaps violently, sending splinters flying into the air as Myst’s full weight and momentum drive Summer Page straight through the grain and into the hard canvas below.

Todd: "GOOD GOD ALMIGHTY! SHE KILLED HER! SHE KILLED HER AND THE TABLE!"

Bama: "The impact! Did you see the rotation? Myst hit her with the force of a high-speed collision! The table is in toothpicks, Todd! Absolute toothpicks!"

The referee slides into the wreckage, checking for signs of life. Summer Page is motionless, buried under the jagged remains of the table legs and shattered plywood. Jenny Myst is slumped over her, her own body vibrating from the shock of the landing.

Winner - Jenny Myst

Ding! Ding! Ding!

Todd: "The bell! The bell is ringing! Jenny Myst has done it! In the middle of the wreckage, in the heart of the Anarchy, the Identity Crisis has spoken!"

Bama: "I’ve been in this business a long time, Todd, and I’ve never seen a woman risk that much just to prove a point. Summer Page is going to be feeling those splinters until the next decade. That was a masterpiece of misery."

Myst slowly rolls off the remains of the table, clutching her ribs, a faint, jagged smile playing on her lips through the sweat and blood. She staggers to her feet, leaning against the ropes as the referee raises her hand.

Todd: "A physical, brutal, and historic encounter here tonight! Jenny Myst stands tall over the ruins of Summer Page. This is XWF Anarchy!"

The bell barely has time to finish ringing when suddenly, out from the crowd, come two figures. There is no mystery as to who they are.

TODD: That’s Korvayne and her Simp!

BAMA: And they didn’t do the masked person mystery thing. No hoods to pull. No masks to peel off. No reveals!

TODD: Because Korvayne wants us all to see her! Why would she hide that perfect face and that amazing hair under a mask and hood?

Summer is out of the ring already but Jenny isn’t. Instead of attacking Jenny like a proper post match attacker would, Kor snags a mic, getting Jenny’s attention while her Simp sneakily moves in behind Jenny unnoticed.

Korvayne: Hey Jenny, tell me if this sounds like static.

Before Myst can respond…

CRACK!

*STATIC*

The microphone shot to Jenny’s skull knocks the XWF classics member backward into the Simp’s waiting, fatty arms. He swallows her into a bear hug from behind and holds her there.

The mic is broken, so the cameras get real close to pick up what’s next.

Korvayne: Look at me, you half-pint piss rat. I’m not gonna cut a five-minute monologue on you because you’re not worth the time, but let me tell you something straight and fast. I’m not Game Girl. You can’t just get your licks in on me and walk away scott free. Tell your group that more of this is coming for what they did to my poor, precious Simpling and me.

She points to her Simp and yells, “SIMP!” while thrusting a thumbs-down gesture.

The blubbery Simp winds up and tosses Jenny to Korvayne…. Right into…

TODD: The Picasso Punch! Korvayne posed in mid-air, too! She got all of it.

BAMA: Down goes Jenny… but wait…. Here comes the backup!

BoB members Asher Hayes and Mr. Oz storm the ring, but Korvayne and her large but oddly agile Simp high-tail it through the crowd, making a gorgeous escape!

Full black.

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. He 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.

Todd: And here comes THIRTY-SIX! The man who held the Revolution Title for over half-a-year!

Bama: Nothing tastes worse than coming up short of history, Toddy. XXXVI had a historic Revolution title reign… the *second*-longest in the history of the belt! But he came up short against the stiffest challenge of his reign… The Impossible Traveler!

Todd: SPEAK OF THE TRAVELER![/blue]

“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.

“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.

TODD: Betsy Granger and XXXVI looked downright dominant tagging before they met for the Revolution title! The only difference between now and then is the Revolution title went from XXXVI’s waist to Betsy’s!

BAMA: But that small change might make all the difference in the world, Todd! As Vamp and Graves called out… Betsy’s going to swing hard to prove that win wasn’t a fluke! And XXXVI’s gonna play it real close to the vest… er, mask… trying to correct the weakness that let the belt slip from his mitts!

TODD: That’s what Vamp/Graves claim… but Betsy and XXXVI might prove to be of sterner stuff that their opponents think!

…

On one side of the ring, XXXVI’s posture straightens immediately. Behind the mask, his head tilts slightly, body settling into a calm, ready stance. His mask tilts toward his partner, silently offering to start the match. Beside him, Betsy Granger studies him with a playful grin, then nods with a confident shrug as if to say go get ‘em, mysterious one.

XXXVI steps through the ropes.

Arroyo’s eyes narrow as he leans toward his partner to talk out their appr-

Graves snorts loudly, shoulders twitching with impatient energy, unable to stand still even for a moment longer. Without so much as glancing toward Kristoffer Arroyo, Graves charges across the ring like a missile, boots pounding the canvas.

Kristoffer Arroyo, standing on the apron, folds his arms across his chest. His lip curls in faint irritation as Graves barrels forward without strategy.

TODD:

BAMA: Boy fights like a raccoon in a trash can.

The bell rings.

Graves and XXXVI head toward a collision in the center of the ring!

Graves is eager to score the first strike swinging at XXXVI’s head with a massive…

SPINNING BACKFIST!

…

But XXXVI’s dip and knees bend in a split-second calculation. He pivots sideways and lets the fist whip over his head before snapping his hips around and delivering a lightning-fast…

DROPKICK!

Connects directly into Graves’ chest!

Graves’ grin widens even as the impact rocks him backward. The shock ripples through his ribs, forcing air from his lungs as he stumbles two steps… But stays on his feet!

Instead of retreating, Graves’ eyes light up with delight.

TODD: Graves is one of the few guys that seems happier when he’s getting hit than when he’s not!

BAMA: Graves is a few fruit loops short of a complete breakfast but he’s got that dawg in him! That viciousness! That hunger to inflict PAIN!

Graves laughs hoarsely, scratching his chest like XXXVI’s kick itched more than it hurt!

Then he lunges forward again.

Graves reached forward like he’s going for a collar-and-elbow… XXXVI’s hand surge forward to oblige hi-

WHAM!

At the last second his knee jerks upward, driving straight into XXXVI’s gut!

A cheap chop block slams into XXXVI’s thigh.

The masked wrestler’s shoulders jerk violently as he doubles over, cradling his abdomen!

TODD: Graves immediately going dirty!

BAMA: Man ain’t here to wrestle clean, Toddrick. He’s here to fuck someone’s shit up!

Graves has forced XXXVI against the ropes, where he’s pounding XXXVI’s back with overhead forearms…

TODD: Graves looking eager to physically punish XXXVI. This isn’t a wrestling match, this is a prison yard beatdown!

BAMA: That’s what your average Graves match looks like, Toddy baby!

Graves grins like a madman as he drags XXXVI away from the ropes, wrapping his arms around XXXVI’s torso and seeking a…

FALLAWAY SLAM!

…

But XXXVI twists his hips mid-lift and lands on his feet!

Graves rises off the mat… just as XXXVI snaps a Dragon Screw dropkick into Graves’ chest!

Graves collapses to one knee with a surprised bark of laughter.

TODD: What is it gonna take to drop Micheal Graves!

The masked wrestler springs upright in one fluid motion, his body coiling with precision. He spins sharply and cracks a superkick across Graves’ jaw!

The smack echoes through the arena!

Graves slams flat on his back!

TODD: Well, we answered that question!

XXXVI bursts forward, leaping for a…

HURRICANRANA!

…But Graves catches him, stopping him in mid-air!

TODD: Uh oh! XXXVI is in no man’s land here!

Graves spins toward his and Vamp’s corner… looking to propel XXXVI with a…

BUCKLE BOMB!

…

But XXXVI counters into a…

HURRICANRANA!

Graves gets propelled into his corner, his head getting crushed into the middle turnbuckle pad!

Vamp looks down, shaking his head impatiently…

XXXVI quickly follows Graves in, looking to pull him out of his corner… Vamp raises his arms, like ‘be my guest’...

TODD: It looks like Arroyo is letting Graves get a lesson in pre-match etiquette here, Bama!

XXXVI starts to pull Gravy out of the corner… but not before Arroyo’s hand surges in between the ropes and secures a tag on Graves’ hip!

BAMA: Blind tag! And I don’t think XXXVI heard it!

XXXVI drags Graves to the ropes, irish whipping him across the ring…

As he does, Arroyo creeps along the apron, hands secured on the top rope…

XXXVI heads to the center of the ring, seeking a back body drop!

…But Graves simply goes up and over the top rope, landing on his feet and slipping to the outside!

…XXXVI looks confused by this decision…

As Arroyo springboards off the top rope and clips the back of XXXVI’s neck with a SPRINGBOARD DROPKICK!

That moment, Graves clips Betsy’s ankle off the apron, dragging her to the floor!

TODD: Uh oh! It looks like Vamp and Graves are working well here! Was that dissension we saw earlier a ruse?

BAMA: Maybe, Toddrick! But, more likely, Graves and Vamp just know how to turn it on when there’s blood in the water!

Vamp turns XXXVI onto his back and covers…

ONE!

TWO!

THR-NO! XXXVI kicks out!

TODD: Phew! Somehow, some way, XXXVI manages to keep the match going!

Kristoffer Arroyo’s lips curl in faint irritation at the kickout…

He drives his forearm across XXXVI’s throat and grinds downward, pressing his weight arrogantly into the masked man’s windpipe.

XXXVI’s hands claw at the mat as the pressure builds.

Arroyo’s jaw clenches as he drags XXXVI upright by the wrist, his posture stiff with condescending control.

He twists sharply—

ARM WRINGER!

XXXVI’s shoulder snaps downward violently as the torque ripples through the joint.

Arroyo follows it up by yanking XXXVI forward and driving a sharp knee into his ribs, then immediately spins him around and whips him into Graves’ corner.

Graves, still shaking cobwebs from earlier, suddenly grins when he sees XXXVI approaching.

His eyes flash with predatory excitement.

Arroyo slaps Graves’ chest with a tag.

TODD: And now Graves is back in!

BAMA: Things were bad when XXXVI was getting dog-whipped by Vamp… Now they’re even worse! Graves is looking like a junkyard dog who just heard the dinner bell!

XXXVI staggers out of the corner, clutching his ribs.

Graves’ eyes widen with gleeful cruelty.

He charges.

SPEAR!

The impact folds XXXVI in half, slamming him violently into the canvas.

Graves immediately rolls on top of him for a cover.

ONE!

TWO!

THR-NO! XXXVI kicks out again!

TODD: XXXVI demonstrating just how much fight he has in him!

Graves is unfazed by his opponent’s resilience… instead, he grabs a fistful of XXXVI’s mask and drags him upright, his grin widening as he notices Betsy reaching desperately over the ropes.

XXXVI’s head tilts toward his corner.

He reaches an arm out.

Just inches short.

Graves notices.

His grin turns malicious.

He suddenly yanks XXXVI backward by the waist and throws him with a brutal FALLAWAY SLAM, sending the masked wrestler tumbling halfway across the ring.

XXXVI lands hard.

Graves pops up instantly, bouncing with manic energy.

He stumbles toward his corner and tags Arroyo again.

Arroyo enters far more slowly.

His eyes flick briefly toward Betsy.

Then toward XXXVI struggling to crawl.

His lip curls.

He stalks forward and plants a boot squarely on XXXVI’s back, halting the crawl entirely.

TODD: Betsy desperately calling for the tag!

BAMA: And Vamp is makin’ sure that ain’t happenin’ no time soon!

Arroyo drags XXXVI up by the mask and whips him into the corner, following immediately behind.

RUNNING KNEE LIFT!

XXXVI’s head snaps backward from the impact.

Arroyo’s eyes gleam with theatrical delight.

He climbs onto the middle rope.

And begins delivering the rest.

KNEE!

KNEE!

KNEE!

TEATRO GROTTESCO!

XXXVI slumps downward in the corner.

Arroyo spreads his arms theatrically as the crowd roars.

TODD: Arroyo putting on a sadistic display here tonight!

BAMA: Vamp treatin’ this like performance art, Todd!

Arroyo sneers toward Betsy one more time.

Then casually tags Graves.

Graves barrels back into the ring with unrestrained enthusiasm.

He yanks XXXVI out of the corner and plants him with a brutal NECKBREAKER.

XXXVI rolls across the mat in pain.

Betsy reaches desperately.

Graves sees it again.

And laughs.

He grabs XXXVI’s ankle and drags him backward across the mat, isolating him once more.

Graves swings a wild backfist—

But XXXVI ducks beneath it.

Then suddenly explodes.

POISONRANA!

Graves flips violently onto his head and shoulders.

The arena erupts.

XXXVI collapses forward, crawling desperately toward his corner.

Graves scrambles blindly on the mat, stunned.

Both men lunge.

Arms stretch.

Fingertips reach—

TAG!

The arena explodes.

TODD: HERE COMES BETSY!

Betsy vaults over the ropes like a missile.

Her eyes blaze with excitement.

Graves is just getting to his feet when she charges…

Graves’s reflexes are quick, looking for a decapitating…

BACKFIST!

…But Betsy ducks under! And backflips!

PELE KICK!

The heel cracks against Graves’ temple!

Graves stumbles sideways.

Betsy kips up to her feet… and!

REVERSE ROUNDHOUSE KICK!

Graves drops to one knee.

Betsy sprints to the ropes and rebounds.

ROLLING KOPPU KICK!

Graves collapses flat on the canvas.

BAMA: LORD HAVE MERCY SHE’S MOVIN’ AT LIGHT SPEED!

TODD: Betsy’s feet are cutting through Graves like a lightsaber!

Graves staggers backwards into the ropes…

Arroyo tags himself in! The Vamp rushes into the ring to stop the momentum.

His face is twisted with irritation.

He grabs Betsy’s arm—

But Betsy pivots instantly.

Her expression sharpens with focus.

She hooks the arm.

Drops her weight.

And sweeps Arroyo’s legs out from under him.

DOWN YOU GO! — COBRA CLUTCH LEGSWEEP!

Arroyo crashes onto his shoulders.

Betsy rolls him up tight.

ONE!

TWO!

THREEEEEEE—NOOOOOOOOOOO!

Arroyo kicks out at the last possible moment!

TODD: OH MY! THAT WAS SO CLOSE!

BAMA: Vamp nearly got sent to the shadow realm right there!

Betsy steps forward with purpose, reaching down to grab Arroyo by the wrist.

Arroyo’s eyes flash with irritation as she pulls him upright.

She slips behind him, her arms hooking around his torso as her stance lowers.

Her lips curl into a confident grin.

The crowd begins to rise.

TODD: Betsy setting him up!

BAMA: Uh oh… she’s lookin’ for that Galactic Advantage!

Betsy pulls Arroyo backward, preparing to lift him into the Snapmare Driver—

But suddenly her entire body jolts.

Her eyes fly wide.

Behind her, Michael Graves’ grin is feral.

Both of his thumbs are buried deep into Betsy’s eyes.

The referee shouts in outrage as Betsy shrieks and staggers forward, clutching her face.

TODD: OH COME ON! That’s an eye rake! That’s an illegal maneuver!

BAMA: Does it get a DQ? No? Then, it ain’t really illegal, Toddrick, merely frowned upon!

Graves cackles wildly, his shoulders bouncing with manic energy as he grabs Betsy by the arm.

With violent enthusiasm he hurls her across the ring into the corner.

Betsy crashes chest-first into the turnbuckles, stunned.

But as she slumps forward—

A hand slaps her shoulder.

TAG!

XXXVI vaults over the ropes.

TODD: XXXVI back in the match!

XXXVI bursts forward with focused intensity.

Graves turns toward him just in time—

The masked wrestler leaps forward.

SLING BLADE—

But Graves’ eyes flash with sudden animal instinct! The Dark Warrior snatches XXXVI out of mid-motion, grabbing him around the waist with shocking brute strength.

The crowd gasps as Graves muscles XXXVI up onto his shoulders!

BAMA: OH LORD!

TODD: Graves Consequences incoming!

Graves plants his feet, arms tightening as he prepares the Razor’s Edge Powerbomb—

But XXXVI’s masked head jerks toward the mat.

His body coils with desperate urgency.

He twists sideways.

Slides down Graves’ back.

And drags him violently to the mat!

The moment Graves lands, XXXVI’s arms wrap around his neck.

His forearm snakes beneath the chin.

His body hooks tightly behind Graves’ shoulders.

DRAGON SLEEPER!

TODD: THIRD EYE BIND—NO! HE’S GOT THE SLEEPER LOCKED!

Graves’ eyes bulge.

His hands claw wildly at the mat as the choke clamps down.

His legs kick violently.

His face reddens.

The Dark Warrior writhes like a trapped animal, thrashing his body across the canvas trying to escape.

He twists.

Rolls.

Finally flips onto his stomach, dragging XXXVI with him as the masked wrestler clings desperately to the hold.

The choke tightens.

Graves’ arm begins to weaken.

TODD: This is it! Graves’ weaselly black little lungs are going to give out! We’re about to have new #1 Anarchy Tag contenders!

Across the ring, Kristoffer Arroyo watches.

He suddenly bursts forward.

XXXVI’s masked head lifts just enough to notice—

Too late.

CURBSTOMP!

Arroyo’s boot crushes XXXVI’s face straight into the canvas.

The impact explodes through the arena.

The choke releases instantly.

TODD: GOOD GOD!

BAMA: VAMP JUST TURNED THAT MAN INTO A BLOOD SPLATTER!

Arroyo’s chest rises slowly as he stares down at XXXVI’s motionless body.

Then, with cold precision, he rolls him onto his back.

He hooks the leg.

ONE!

Across the ring, Betsy shakes off the lingering pain in her eyes.

She sees the cover.

Her face floods with panic.

She sprints forward.

TODD: Betsy trying to break it up!

But Michael Graves sees her coming.

Still wheezing from the choke, he grins through the pain.

At the last second he throws his arm outward and clips Betsy’s ankle.

Betsy crashes hard onto the canvas, fingertips stretching desperately toward the pin.

TWO!

Betsy claws forward—

But Graves grabs her leg and drags her backward.

THREE!

Winners: Kristoffer Arroyo and Micheal Graves

TODD: It’s over! Graves and Arroyo steal it!

BAMA: I told you, Todd! When them two smell blood, they get downright nasty!

TODD: And now, they’ve earned themselves a shot at tag-team gold

BAMA: But that’s all the time we have tonight, folks! Tune in next time to see the fallout from tonight’s crazy show!

Thanks To All Our Wonderful Match Writers

Peter Principal
Jenny Myst
Charlie Nickles

& Our Fantastic Segment Writers

Centurion
Korvayne

& to everyone who RPed!

]]>

XWF Anarchy
[Image: vuE1ZV0.png]

04 - 16 - 2026

LIVE FROM THE PREMIERE CENTER!

SIOUX FALLS, SOUTH DAKOTA

MARISOL VILARO
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX
- vs -
LIAM ROBERTS
- vs -
RIC JAMES

FATAL 4-WAY!

DEENA HIXX
- vs -
BOBBY BOURBON

X-TREME RULES!

MR. OZ
- vs -
APATHY

X-TREME RULES!

JENNY MYST
- vs -
SUMMER PAGE

TABLES MATCH!

MARISOL VILARO
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX
- vs -
LIAM ROBERTS
- vs -
RIC JAMES

FATAL 4-WAY!

Highlight Reel

Winner - Marisol Vilaro

HIGHLIGHT REEL

14:04
14:03
14:02

12:11
12:10
12:09

4:55
4:54
4:53

2:01
2:00
1:59

0:59
0:58
0:57

0:31
0:30
0:29

0:15
0:14
0:13

Winner: Safari Stu

TODD: Oh my God! I can’t believe Safari Stu pulled it off!

BAMA: Stu could hunt any quarry! Animal, man, clown… And he proved it tonight!

DEENA HIXX
- vs -
BOBBY BOURBON

X-TREME RULES!

HIGHLIGHT REEL

Winner: Bobby Bourbon

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. 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.

Todd: It’s the workhorse of Anarchy: Mr. Oz! Listen to the crowd go wild!

Bama: Mr. Oz may be a multi-billionaire, but I swear he still takes bookings like the rent is due! He spent months having 3 different matches on every Anarchy, he partook in the March Madness tournament, and he even made an appearance on the latest episode of Warfare! I swear to you, Mr. Oz might run Chicago, but you can find him everywhere these days!

Todd: He’s like a weapon of war, Bama, because he just charges towards the fight every time. But tonight, he might be biting off more than he can chew…when he takes on the one and only Apathy!

The sound of a vintage picture reel began to click and pop, the screen illuminating up counting down like a picture show. The pops, scratches, nicks and debris covered the screen, the numbers counting down, 5...4....3....2....1....as the reel continued, electric synth music cuts, industrial and ominous

The road I walk is paved in gold
To glorify my platinum soul
I'll buy my way to talk to God
So he can live with what I'm not

On the screen, a barrage of action shots, in still form from Apathy's career, centered and fixated, like an old film would. As the arena went down, red and white lights bathing the fans in a sea of color, Elizabeth rises from beneath the stage, head lowered, arms outstretched. A mixed chorus of boos, jeers and cheers pelted at her. She gradually raises her head, soaking in the animosity and fervent support. Inhaling it like a drug

This selfish blood runs through my veins
I gave up everything for fame
I am the lie that humans are
I feed the rich and fuck the poor

As the heavy bass kicks in and the words reverberate through the arena, she snaps her head up, a cocky self-assured smirk creeping across her lips as she saunters her way to the ring casually engaging towards the fans either encouraging more of their venomous verbal harassment or acknowledging the respect and adoration from her legions and devotees, basking in the glow

I got what you want
It just don't stop

I got what you want
It just don't stop
This is entertainment
Lies are entertainment
You are down on your knees
Begging me for more

Todd: Apathy had a tough draw in the first round of March Madness, but tonight on Anarchy she’s coming back for more!

Bama: Apathy has a long and storied career in professional wrestling, but this is just her second match in the XWF! A marquee win over Mr. Oz tonight could catapult Apathy into the next echelon!

Todd: That’s the truth, Bama! Mr. Oz is an XWF icon, and a win over him would prove to everyone that Apathy’s ceiling is limitless!

MR. OZ
- vs -
APATHY

X-TREME RULES!

Highlight Reel

Winner - Apathy

JENNY MYST
- vs -
SUMMER PAGE

TABLES MATCH!

Highlight Reel

Winner - Jenny Myst

Full black.

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. He 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.

Todd: And here comes THIRTY-SIX! The man who held the Revolution Title for over half-a-year!

Bama: Nothing tastes worse than coming up short of history, Toddy. XXXVI had a historic Revolution title reign… the *second*-longest in the history of the belt! But he came up short against the stiffest challenge of his reign… The Impossible Traveler!

Todd: SPEAK OF THE TRAVELER![/blue]

Winners: Kristoffer Arroyo and Micheal Graves

Thanks To All Our Wonderful Match Writers

Peter Principal
Jenny Myst
Charlie Nickles

& Our Fantastic Segment Writers

Centurion
Korvayne

& to everyone who RPed!

]]> <![CDATA[ANARCHY: CENTURION'S 25TH ANNIVERSARY SPECIAL]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=49902 Fri, 13 Mar 2026 04:23:50 -0700 'Big' Dick Lichter]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=49902

ANTLANTIC CITY, NEW JERSEY

MR. OZ
- vs -
REGGIE ESTRADA
- vs -
SUMMER PAGE

X-TREME RULEZ TRIPLE THREAT!

ACTS-LIKE-A-VAMPIRE CLOWN
- vs -
KRISTOFFER 'VAMP' ARROYO

With special guest referee: SIR LIONEL PENNYFARTHING!

VAMP-ACTING CHALLENGE!

Each competitor will be given a pair of fangs and a cloak. Using only the fangs and cloak provided, they must prove to Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing that they are in fact a REAL vampire!

Alternatively, you may KO your opponent to disqualify them from the acting competition!

Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing may write 1 roleplay to state their intentions for the match!

XXXVI © & BETSY GRANGER
- vs -
JOHN BLADE & LATOYA HIXX

TAG MATCH!

Each team can write 1 collaborative roleplay of 2k words

or

Each team can write 2 separate roleplays at 1k words each

CENTURION ©
- vs -
"GODLY" KEN DAVISON

NON-TITLE SINGLES MATCH!

The lights in The Showboat dim.

The sold-out crowd in Atlantic City hums with anticipation as the massive screen over the entrance ramp flickers to life.

A graphic appears on the screen, celebrating Centurion’s 25th anniversary!

A slow orchestral swell begins. Footage plays across the screen: war-torn rings, blood-soaked canvases, roaring crowds. The highlight reel follows the long career of Centurion — championship victories, brutal wars, iconic moments that built Xtreme Wrestling Federation into what it is today.

The crowd begins chanting.

“CEN-TUR-ION!”

“CEN-TUR-ION!”

One clip shows Centurion standing victorious, battered and bleeding, raising a championship high.
Another shows him walking through smoke, stoic, relentless.

Then the final frame freezes on his face.

The music abruptly cuts.

The screen glitches.

The Centurion graphic disappears, replaced with sleek corporate font:

PRESENTED BY THE TRILLIONAIRES

Boos erupt instantly.

A smug electronic jingle replaces the epic orchestral music.

The camera cuts to the stage as a ridiculously over-the-top corporate podium rises from beneath the ramp. Chrome. LED lights. A rotating hologram of a dollar sign.

Out walks Elon Musk.

The boos grow louder.

He squints out into the crowd like a man studying zoo animals.

Behind him, waddling with exaggerated swagger, comes “Big” Dick Lichter — the Anarchy General Manager — a sharply dressed little person in a gaudy burgundy suit with gold trim, holding a microphone like he’s carrying a royal scepter.

Lichter gestures dramatically for the music to cut.

It doesn’t.

He waves his arms frantically until someone backstage finally kills it.

The crowd keeps booing.

Lichter grins.

“ATLANTIC CITY!”

The boos grow louder.

He nods approvingly.

“That’s right! That’s right! Boo all you want! Boo your little hearts out!”

He gestures grandly toward the massive banner hanging above the ring.

25 YEARS OF CENTURION

Lichter sighs loudly.

“Twenty-five years.”

He shakes his head in disbelief.

“Twenty-five years of this guy wandering around MY show, hogging MY spotlight, and forcing ME to pretend he’s some kind of ‘legend.’”

The crowd erupts in angry chants again.

“CEN-TUR-ION!”

“CEN-TUR-ION!”

Lichter rolls his eyes.

“Oh please. Spare me.”

He gestures toward Musk.

“Ladies and gentlemen, tonight’s celebration has been made possible by the brilliant, visionary, and extremely wealthy minds behind The Trillionaires, the ownership group of the XWF!”

More boos.

Musk leans into the microphone casually.

“I bought a social media company for forty-four billion dollars and people still liked me more than this guy. Heh. What a meme!”

He gestures to the banner.

“Imagine how annoying you have to be to accomplish that.”

The crowd laughs and boos at the same time.

Lichter nods enthusiastically.

“Exactly! THANK YOU!”

Elon points up at the Centurion banner again.

“But let’s be honest about something, folks. Tonight isn’t about celebrating Centurion.”

The crowd boos even louder.

Lichter grins wickedly.

“Tonight is about monetizing Centurion!”

Musk nods approvingly.

“Correct!”

He gestures toward the giant screen.

A graphic appears:

LIMITED EDITION CENTURION NFT COLLECTION — AVAILABLE NOW

The boos shake the building.

Musk continues calmly.

“We’ve launched a blockchain-backed commemorative digital ownership system where fans can purchase verified moments from Centurion’s career.”

The screen begins displaying animated clips of Centurion highlights with price tags floating beside them.

$5,000

$10,000

$25,000

Musk shrugs.

“You people were going to watch the footage for free anyway. This just adds value.”

The crowd begins chanting again.

“CEN-TUR-ION!”

“CEN-TUR-ION!”

Lichter waves them off dismissively.

“Oh relax! Relax! You’ll get your Centurion tonight!”

The crowd pops.

Then Lichter grins again.

“When Godly Ken Davison ends his career, and sends him home in a body-bag!”

The crowd is enraged at the comment, raining boos down upon the ring- along with a few empty bottles and hot dog wrappers!

“So welcome to the most historic episode of Anarchy in twenty-five years!”

Elon Musk spreads his arms wide.

“The CENTURION 25TH ANNIVERSARY CASH-GRAB SPECTACULAR!”

The crowd’s boos reach a crescendo.

Musk taps the podium again.

Fireworks suddenly explode from the stage.

The Centurion banner drops lower over the ring as the Anarchy theme music hits.

Lichter shouts into the mic one last time.

“LET THE EXPLOITATION BEGIN!”

We see on the walkway, where the camera pans to the entrance, as soon as the beat drops we see Reggie walking down out to the song. He stares at the crowd, who gives him mix reactions as he walks down to the ring, then he gets to the steel steps, but looks at the crowd some more. Then he climbs up to it, and get into the ring. Camera cuts to various fan signs that either love or hate Reggie, then it cuts to him going on the corner to raise his fist and talk some trash, then he gets down and stand in the ring as his theme cuts off.

Bama: Making his way to the ring, it’s the most Thuggish Ruggish bone of them all! The one and only REGGIE ESTRADA!

Todd: Reggie Estrada has recently come into trouble in his personal life, but he took this match tonight because he’s ready to let that rage loose inside the ring!

Bama: And not to mention, that bad hombre really needs the paycheck!

MR. OZ
- vs -
REGGIE ESTRADA
- vs -
SUMMER PAGE

X-TREME RULEZ TRIPLE THREAT!

Highlight Reel!

The bell rings.

Mr. Oz steps forward immediately, looming over both opponents. Reggie Estrada charges first, swinging wild punches into Oz’s ribs, but Oz barely budges. Summer Page darts in from the side with a quick kick to the thigh.

Oz swats her away like a fly.

Reggie throws another punch—Oz grabs him by the throat and hurls him across the ring. Reggie crashes hard into the turnbuckles and slumps down. Summer springs off the ropes with a flying forearm.

Oz catches her midair.

He holds her there for a moment before slamming her down with a brutal powerslam that rattles the ring!

Bama: Mr. Oz is coming out HOT! He’s on a roll!

Todd: He’s the biggest, most experienced wrestler in that ring: and he’s damn sure acting like it!

Reggie staggers up and runs at Oz again, trying to tackle him. Oz drives a knee into Reggie’s gut and lifts him high overhead, holding him in the air before launching him down with a massive military press slam.

Reggie rolls away groaning.

Oz steps outside the ring and starts throwing weapons inside—first a steel chair, then a trash can, then a kendo stick.

Todd: Uh oh, this can’t be good! Mr. Oz is already getting weapons involved!

Bama: Stop clutching your pearls, Todd! This is an X-TREME RULEZ match, and Oz told everyone he’s going to show them what hardcore really means!

Summer springs up onto the ropes and launches with a dropkick that hits Oz in the chest as he climbs back in. Oz stumbles but stays standing. Reggie rushes from behind with the chair and smashes it across Oz’s back.

The chair bends.

Oz barely moves.

Reggie swings again. Summer follows with a kick to Oz’s knee.

Another chair shot.

Another kick.

Oz roars and shoves them both backward, swinging wildly with the trash can. Reggie ducks under it. Summer vaults over the ropes and springboards back with a flying crossbody that knocks Oz a step backward.

Reggie grabs Oz’s legs from behind.

Summer sprints across the ring.

Both of them launch forward—

DOUBLE DROPKICK!

The impact knocks Oz backward over the top rope. His massive body crashes to the floor outside!

For a moment, the ring belongs to Reggie Estrada and Summer Page.

Todd: Lookout! The big man goes flying to the outside!

Bama: This isn’t supposed to be a handicap match, but Reggie and Summer are clearly working together against Mr. Oz! That’s not fair!

Todd: Fair? You want to talk about fair, Bama? Mr. Oz is as big as these two combined! The only way they can survive this match is by working together against the big, Ghost Tank machine!

Reggie and Summer circle each other.

Reggie swings first with a hard right hand. Summer ducks and spins into a sharp kick to his ribs. Reggie answers with a brawling hook that snaps Summer’s head to the side.

She rebounds off the ropes and flips into a spinning heel kick.

Reggie stumbles.

Summer leaps to the ropes, springboards—

Reggie catches her legs and slams her down to the mat.

He drags her up and hammers forearms into her back. Summer twists free and answers with a lightning-fast series of kicks to his legs, chopping him down piece by piece.

Reggie lunges with a clothesline.

Summer ducks, cartwheels behind him, and lands a standing dropkick that sends him staggering into the ropes.

Reggie spits blood from his lip and charges again.

They collide in the center of the ring!

Todd: Estrada and Page are giving it all they have! With Oz on the outside, they know this is their chance to take back momentum!

Bama: HA! So much for working together against Oz! Now, Reggie and Summer are at each other’s throats- and I can’t wait to see who chokes first!

Punches from Reggie.

Kicks from Summer.

He grabs her hair and tries to throw her into the corner—she flips up the turnbuckles, springboards behind him, and lands a spinning DDT that plants Reggie hard into the mat.

Reggie rolls toward the ropes, trying to escape.

Summer sprints across the ring and nails a running knee that sends him tumbling under the bottom rope to the floor.

Reggie crashes outside!

Summer rises, breathing hard, pushing hair from her face.

Todd: And Summer sends Reggie to the outside!

Bama: But wait, Todd! Someone’s climbing back in! Summer might not be as safe as she thinks she is!

A shadow climbs the apron.

Mr. Oz steps through the ropes.

He’s holding a ladder.

Summer turns just in time to see it swing.

CRACK!

The ladder smashes across her face and shoulders, sending her collapsing to the mat.

Oz lifts the ladder again.

CRACK!

Steel crashes across her ribs.

She curls up instinctively. Blood runs down from her forehead.

Oz doesn’t stop.

He jams the ladder into her stomach.

He slams it down across her back.

He drives the edge of it into her side and stands over her as she writhes on the canvas, crimson staining the mat beneath her.

Oz finally tosses the ladder aside.

Todd: This is getting barbaric! Oz is committing manslaughter in the ring with that ladder!

Bama: Summer Page is a chick! It’s WOMANslaughter at best! And besides, Todd: Mr. Oz told everyone that he planned on finishing this match with a ladder!

Todd: Well then he should finish it, and quit brutalizing Summer Page!

He grabs Summer by the hair and lifts her slightly before dropping her flat onto her back.

Oz plants a massive boot on her chest.

Then drops down into the pin.

1!

2!

3!

Winner - Mr. Oz

Oz stands tall with a smirk on his face, surveying the damage him and his ladder have wrought tonight!

Todd: A dominant showing for Mr. Oz! If you thought 3 matches a night would put some wear and tear on him, well, it’s clear that you thought wrong!

Bama: Oz has been wrestling 3 opponents a night for months now: it’s no surprise that 2 opponents wasn’t enough to stop him!

The camera catches up with Charlie Nickles backstage near the loading dock.

He’s sitting on a road case, wrapping tape around his fists even though he isn’t booked tonight.

Across from him stands the quiet figure that’s been following Charlie around lately.

The man people refer to as The Director.

The metal loading door creaks open.

“Charlie?”

Charlie looks up.

“Jennie?”

Jennie Nickles steps inside, brushing cold air off her coat. She looks like she came straight from the road.

Charlie stands immediately.

“What are you doing here?”

Jennie doesn’t answer right away. Her eyes flick briefly toward The Director across the hallway before returning to Charlie.

“I needed to talk to you.”

Charlie gestures toward the hallway.

“Okay…”

Jennie takes a breath.

“It’s about March Madness.”

Charlie exhales.

“Jennie—”

“Just listen.”

She steps closer.

“You’re wrestling Isaiah King again.”

Charlie nods slowly.

Jennie continues.

“You remember what happened last time, how far things almost went before I stepped in to stop you.”

Bama: Oh, Charlie definitely remembers!

Todd: Right before War Games, Charlie and Isaiah had been tearing each other apart in the ring when Jennie came running down the aisle. She stood between them, and told Charlie to stop!

Bama: And Charlie…actually listened! It was like watching a wild dog be tamed, in real time!
Todd: The match ended right there, as a draw!

Jennie lowers her voice.

“Isaiah was my captain at War Games, Charlie. He looked out for me. He’s not someone you need to destroy…he’s my friend.”

Charlie rubs the back of his neck.

“It’s not about that.”

Jennie glances toward The Director again.

“That’s what I’m worried about.”

The Director finally speaks, calm and even.

“You seem concerned that Charlie is being influenced.”

Jennie turns toward him immediately.

“I barely know who you are. I just know that you like using people, and I won’t let you use my brother like you used Thirty-Six.”

The Director smiles faintly behind his mask, crossing his arms over his chest.

“That’s fair.”

Jennie looks back at Charlie.

“You’ve been doing better lately, Charlie. You’ve been clear again. You’re sober. You’re thinking straight.”

Her voice softens.

“I just got my brother back.”

Charlie looks down at the tape around his knuckles.

Jennie steps closer.

“You spared Isaiah last time because I asked you to.”

She places a hand on his arm.

“So I’m asking you again.”

Charlie looks up.

“Don’t do this match. It’s not worth it.”

The hallway goes quiet- but the commentary team does not!

Bama: Wait, WHAT?! Is Jennie asking her brother to pull out of his match at March Madness?!
Todd: That’s exactly what it sounds like, Bama! She doesn’t want to watch Charlie and Isaiah come to blows!

Charlie doesn’t answer right away.

Finally, he exhales.

“I’ll… think about it.”

Jennie studies his face, trying to decide if that’s good enough.

Eventually she nods.

“That’s all I wanted.”

She squeezes his arm once, then turns and heads back toward the loading door.

Before she leaves, she glances once more toward The Director in the hallway.

Something about him unsettles her.

The door closes behind her.

Charlie watches it for a moment.

Behind him, The Director speaks quietly.

“Your sister cares deeply about you.”

Charlie doesn’t turn around.

“Yeah.”

A pause.

“She’s the only one who ever did.”

Bama: This is an explosive development! If Charlie follows through on his sister’s demand, that will leave The Director without a partner against The Exiles!

Todd: The entire March Madness card could get flipped upside down- but that’s a problem for another day, Bama: because we’ve got more Anarchy action coming up next!

Acts-Like-A-Vampire Clown hits the stage, doing his best vampire impression! He stalks down the ramp, looking at the ring like it’s a tasty, blood-filled snack. After a few moments of theatrics outside the ring, Acts-Like-A-Vampire Clown slides underneath the bottom rope, before snarling towards the hard camera in a most vampiric of fashions.

Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing, already in the ring, surveys the newcomer Clown with a Shakespearian curiosity.

Todd: The newest member of Clowns R’ Us 2000, Acts-Like-A-Vampire Clown appears ready for his date with destiny tonight!

Bama: Newest member? Todd- it’s clear that you’re not keeping up with the Clowniverse! This Clown acts like one of the oldest clowns in their entire stable! He’s like an ancient vampire, that’s his entire bit!

Highlight Reel!

TODD: Okay! Here we go! Vamp Acting Challenge! Using only the fangs and cloak provided, our competitors must prove to Sir Lionel that they are a REAL vampire!

BAMA: This used to be a wrestling show, Toddrick. Just like this used to be a gol’ darn country. Damn Woodrow Wilson…

Sir Lionel snaps his fingers! A member of the ring crew walks through and SNAPS a clapboard!

”Aaaaaand ACTION!”

…Arroyo flicks away the plastic Party City fangs he’s been handed and tosses the cape away…

His eyes go red… His fangs extend further… His face goes a pale white! He looks VERY VAMPIRIC!

TODD: What a performance by Arroyo! He’s looking like a more handsome Max Shrek!

…Lionel strokes his chin.

”CUT!” Lionel waves his hand through the air. ”DEDUCTION!”

Arroyo peers confused… What the hell was wrong with that take?

TODD: Arroyo clearly taking umbrage with Lionel’s displeasure! And I have to admit, that was a VERY vampiric performance!

Arroyo storms up to Lionel, demanding justification. Lionel snaps a member of the ring crew brings him a script… which is just the wrestling card for the show tonight. Pennyfarthing sticks it in Arroyo’s face!

Quote:Each competitor will be given a pair of fangs and a cloak. Using ONLY the fangs and cloak provided, they must prove to Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing that they are in fact a REAL vampire!

TODD: …Ohhhhhh! Lionel’s being a surprising stickler for the rules! And the stipulation is clear! The only way these competitors can prove they’re a vampire is using the cloak and the fangs provided!

BAMA: But Vamp over there has actual fangs!

TODD: And, per the stipulation, he can’t use them, Bama!

…Arroyo realizes the nature of his mistake and raises his hands acquiescingly, asking for another chance.

”Wait your turn!” Lionel scoffs, before turning to Acts-Like-a-Vampire Clown. ”You! Understudy!”

Acts-Like-a-Vampire Clown peers around, as if unsure who he might be talking about…. Before realizing, it’s his time to shine!

The film crew snaps the clapboard.

”Take Two! ACTION!”

Acts-Like-a-Vampire Clown dons his plastic fangs and cape…

He clears his throat.

…

”Bleh.” He puts his arms out, his fingers curled somewhat fiendishly.

BAMA: …Is that a vampire?

”Now THAT’S my vampire!” Lionel nods.

…Arroyo sneers disapprovingly as he steps outside the ring and snatches the cape and fangs he discarded…

TODD: Oh! It seems Lionel liked that! Does that mean Acts-Like-a-Vampire Clown wins?

”Cut! Print! Check the gate! Next scene!”

TODD: …Next scene?

BAMA: Pennyfarthing’s nuttier than a pecan tree, Toddrick!

INT. NIGHT

A woman dressed in Victorian nightwear thrashes in her sleep… haunted by a portent of doom!

Haunted by… The Curse of the Vampire!

”ACTION!”

First up! Acts-Like-a-Vampire Clown enters the scene.

”Bleh.”

”SEDUCE HER! FOR GOD’S SAKE!” Lionel calls impatiently!

TODD: Uh oh! Acts-Like-a-Vampire Clown now has to act, not just like a vampire… but a sexy vampire!

BAMA: Maybe he can get all sparkly like Robert Pattinson in that move… you know… the one about September 11th.

Acts-Like-a-Vampire Clown draws his cape in front of his face… The young girl rocks and moans in bed, ravaged by visions…

Acts-Like-a-Vampire Clown…

taps her shoulder.

She stirs awake.

”Hey.”

…She stares at him, confused.

…

”Uh.”

”...Come here often?”

”...To my bedroom?”

”CUT!” Lionel throws his directing beret on the ground, FURIOUS! ”DAMMIT, MAN! WHEN I SAY TO SEDUCE HER, Y-”

Arroyo claps Lionel on the shoulder, nodding to let him at it…

Lionel falls back in his directing chair… And waves at his cameraman to start the take…

TODD: It looks like Arroyo feels confident he’s up to nailing this shot…

The young lady awakens from her dream with a start, her raven-black hair matted to her head with sweat from a night of feverish, delirious nightmares… Or… dreams of wondrous sights… Of a life in the thrall of a creature of the night…

Arroyo… donning his cape (to satisfy the terms of the match…) swoops in from the open window…

Arroyo crosses the room, floating, his feet hovering over the ground…

Defying gravity, he comes parallel to his victim’s laying in bed… Her eyes open with terror and awe as he smiles a sinister smile… Placing her under his spell…

Director Lionel watches the footage back and strokes his chin thoughtfully…

…He nods.

”We got the shot.”

TODD: …Sorry, what are we doing? Are we… Is Lionel refereeing a match? Or is he filming a movie?

BAMA: He’s CREATING, Todd! And he’s found his muse in Kristoffer Arroyo! Like Brando and Coppola! Like Tarantino and a foot attached to a woman!

Arroyo and Acts-Like-a-Vampire Clown are back in the ring… Arroyo coolly, calmly, stretches his neck, feeling in the zone after nailing that last scene to even the score…

Acts-Like-a-Vampire Clown meanwhile is nervously chowing down on a plate of chicken mole from the craft services table!

TODD: The Clown and the Vamp each nailed a scene! I think that makes the score even…

”IT’S SUDDEN DEATH, EVERYONE!” Lionel claps his hands. ”For this next scene… DIE! Make me believe it!”

…Arroyo looks around, kind of peering for context.

TODD: I think Arroyo isn’t opposed to this acting challenge… It’s just not immediately clear to him… what’s supposed to kill him.

BAMA: He’s one of the most dangerous men in the XWF, Toddrick! I don’t think much can! Especially while the sun’s not out!

Suddenly, Acts-Like-a-Vampire Clown steps up, eager to take his best shot…

BAMA: Oh brother… This guy may be act like a vampire clown, but maybe they should have booked “Acts Like an ACCURATE Vampire Clown”... this fella’s a one trick pony!

Acts-Like-a-Vampire Clown suddenly coughs.

”*cough keraugh* Excus-*COUGH*...”

TODD: …Uh oh… was something wrong with that chicken mole he was eating…

BAMA: Someone get that poor idjit a glass of water so he can say ‘bleh’ and then lose…

Lionel calls over the catering team, as Acts-Like-a-Vampire Clown sputters… falling to his hands and knees on the mat…

TODD: Oh my God… I… can someone help him?

BAMA: What the hell was in that mole? Garlic?

The catering team shows Lionel the ingredients list for the mole… He reads it carefully…

…Suddenly, his eyes widen! He points to the warning!

MAY CONTAIN PEANUTS!

TODD: Oh dear! Everyone knows that Acts-Like-a-Vampire Clown has a peanut allergy! He’s going into anaphylaxis!

BAMA: What the hell do you mean EVERYONE knows that?!?

Acts-Like-a-Vampire Clown grasps at his throat as it tightens… His body seizes on the mat… The first aid team is rushing down the ramp with a shot of Xolair!

Acts-Like-a-Vampire Clown’s eyes move toward the ceiling as he tries to swallow in a desperate effort to open his throat enough to breath… But it’s too tight… His throat too swollen from him to take in air…

Lionel waves the first aid team into the ring. ”MOVE. DAMN YOU!”

…But before they can enter the ring… Acts-Like-a-Vampire Clown stops… his body convluses… and then he stops moving…

…

TODD: Oh my God. Oh no…

BAMA: …Wait… seriously?

…Lionel forlornly takes his hat off and raises it to his chest.

The crew is silent.

…

”AND SCENE!”

Acts-Like-a-Vampire Clown kips back up to his feet!

The crowd goes nuts!

TODD: What a death performance by Acts-Like-a-Vampire Clown!

BAMA: …Wait, what? He ain’t dead? WHAT?!?

Lionel claps his hands.

”Masterful! GENIUS, even!”

The crew applauds Acts-Like-a-Vampire Clown…

Kristoffer Arroyo’s eyes narrow…

”I think we have our winner!”

Lionel crosses the set to raise Acts-Like-a-Vampire Cl-

SUDDENLY, ARROYO GRABS LIONEL BY THE COLLAR!

TODD: Uh oh! I think Arroyo might want another line reading!

Acts-Like-a-Vampire Clown raises his cape and flaps his arms like a bat at Arroyo!

”Bleh! Bleh!”

Arroyo raises Lionel… his feet kicking helplessly off the ground…

And Arroyo full-on HURLS 180 pounds of British fop at the clown!

Acts-Like-a-Vampire Clown goes to catch Lio-

WHAM! Lionel’s head conks with his… and the two hit the mat unconscious!

BAMA: Centerfielder Clown would have made that catch!

The Assistant Director of the Second Unit approaches both the unconscious Pennyfarthing and Clown… He double-checks the script…

And raises Arroyo’s hand!

WINNER BY KNOCKOUT: Kristoffer Arroyo!

TODD: …Oh yeah, that’s right. You could win this match by knockout. Which Arroyo did!

BAMA: What a performance by Arroyo! He took out the trash! And now Acts-Like-a-Vampire Clown can stop acting like he belongs in an XWF ring!

The screen cuts to a shaky camera in an office building—location unknown.

Bodies jostle back and forth in front of the lens but eventually the shot breaks free and Kieran King can be seen pacing up and down the room, a phone pressed to his ear.

Around him stand his Kingsguard, with their captain Tommy Gunn nowhere to be seen.

Not a single smile can be found on anyone's faces as Kieran screams into the phone.

Kieran King: No-no-no-no-no Elon, we were coming up with a new deal, dawn! Over the last month or so, we’ve been burying the hatchet for the good of the XWF. Everything that we’ve talked about still stands, and I'm still President of the XWF Union.

There's a pause while the person on the other end of the call, presumably Elon Musk, responds.

[white]Kieran King: It doesn't matter if there's going to be a new King of the XWF! The Union is a separate thing entirely! I still wield the collective bargaining power of the ENTIRE roster!

Another pause…

Kieran King: AAAAACTUALLY, I am STILL the King RIGHT NOW! This tournament is over yet, and neither is my reign!

Pause…

Kieran King: Okay, so I had an idea about that. In 2021, following an influx of new talent after the tournament began, there was an opportunity for all of those people to get a shot at the finals. Think about it… Ken Davison, Korvayne, Rowan Vance, even the fucking Clowns! This is the same situation as back then! And it was open to ANYBODY, even those that were eliminated. So get this… WE RUN IT BACK!

WE'RE GOING TO DO A LAST CHANCE BATTLE ROYAL AGAIN!

The winner—obviously me—will get inserted straight into the finals! We don't even need to change the rest of our plans!

Pause…

Kieran King: WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘NO’? You're letting ego cloud your judgement, man! Nobody likes an egomaniac!

Pause…

Kieran King: ELON, I WILL FUCK EVERYTHING UP FOR YOU IF YOU DON’T COME TO THE PARTY HERE!

Don't forget that I'm hosting the launch of the video game at March Madness! I will tank that launch and the sales of the game so fucking hard! It doesn't matter that I'm the cover star!

Pause…

King Kieran: You want me to do what?

Pause…

Kieran King: DEAL WITH THE PROBLEM?! Fine-fine-fine… I’ll deal with the problem. Book the fucking match! Give me the man responsible for ruining everything and I’ll put him in the fucking dirt once and for good. But then we're getting me my title back, okay?

Pause…

Kieran King: Good.

Emphatically, Kieran hangs up the phone.

Kieran King: Fucking asshole…

Kieran looks around the room, scowling.

In the process, he looks right at the camera.

Kieran King: Are you… ARE YOU FILMING ME? YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE ONE OF MY KINGSGUARD! WHO'S SEEING THIS?

The camera catches Kieran charging forward and ripping the device from the hands who held—apparently one of The Kingsguard!

The last thing caught on the feed is Kieran's hand over the camera and him melting down into a tirade of expletives.

[/b]

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 tag-team partner to arrive.

Todd: John Blade is in the building! Fresh off an impressive quarterfinals appearance in the March Madness tournament, John Blade now finds himself in Atlantic City- and he spent the whole week telling everyone that he plans to put on a hell of a show here!

Bama: That’s right, Todd! John Blade is one of the hottest names in the XWF right now, and he’s looking to score a huge win tonight here over XXXVI and Betsy Granger!

When The Strom is Coming hits Latoya Hixx. they heard a voice laugh in the background and saw blue lights from the entrance and some smoke and rainfall coming down she walked onto the middle stage flexed her muscles walked straight down towards the aisle slapped a few XWF fans got inside the ring and dim the lights in the ring and she flexes her arms once more and spread her arms and climbs on the top rope and yell at her fans and tells them to let's go and climbs down off the ropes and waits for her Opponents to arrive.

Todd: Latoya Hixx has long-standing beef with Betsy Granger, and now, she’s got the chance to get her hands on her once more tonight!

Bama: Hixx-on-Granger action? Oh boy, count me in!

Full black.

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. He 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.

Todd: And here comes the reigning, defending, undisputed REVOLUTION Champion- THIRTY-SIX!

Bama: After his recent split from The Director, XXXVI found himself alone in this world- but not for long, because tonight he’s teaming up with the #1 contender to his championship belt!

Todd: SPEAK OF THE TRAVELER!

XXXVI © & BETSY GRANGER
- vs -
JOHN BLADE & LATOYA HIXX

TAG MATCH!

Each team can write 1 collaborative roleplay of 2k words

or

Each team can write 2 separate roleplays at 1k words each

Highlight Reel!

The bell rings.

XXXVI and John Blade start in the ring.

They circle each other cautiously. Blade steps forward with a collar-and-elbow tie up, trying to muscle XXXVI backward. XXXVI pivots smoothly, slipping into a wristlock and wrenching the arm down.

Blade grimaces and rolls through it, flipping up to relieve the pressure before snapping off a quick arm drag.

XXXVI lands clean and immediately kips up.

They stare at each other for a moment.

Blade nods once.

XXXVI nods back.

Todd: A showing of respect between John Blade and Thirty-Six!

Bama: His name isn’t ‘Thirty-Six’, you dolt! It’s EX-EX-EX-VEE-AYE!

Todd: Well however you pronounce it, it’s clear that he and “Chain Gang” John Blade share a mutual appreciation for each other’s greatness!

Bama: It’s “SURGEON OF THUG” John Blade, Todd!

Todd: It’s both!

They lock up again.

Blade shoves him into the corner this time and breaks cleanly. XXXVI fires off a sharp kick to the thigh as Blade steps away. Blade answers with a forearm that snaps XXXVI’s head sideways.

XXXVI responds with a spinning back kick to the ribs.

Blade backs into his corner and tags in Latoya Hixx.

Bama: And in tags THE STORM!

Todd: She’s bolting through those ropes like lightning!

Latoya steps through the ropes with a confident stride. Betsy Granger immediately reaches over the ropes for the tag.

XXXVI slaps her hand.

Todd: Betsy Granger is the legal woman now!

Bama: Oh, this is about to get good Todd! REAL GOOD! Betsy and Hixx have been beefing ever since Betsy’s return to the XWF!

Betsy vaults into the ring.

The two women circle. Latoya lunges first with a quick lockup and twists Betsy into a headlock. Betsy shoves her off the ropes.

Latoya rebounds with a shoulder block that knocks Betsy down.
Latoya hits the ropes again.

Betsy rolls to her stomach, pops up behind her, and nails a dropkick to the back that sends Latoya stumbling forward.

Betsy rolls through and grabs a waistlock.

Latoya elbows free and spins around with a quick knee to the gut. She whips Betsy into the ropes—
Betsy rebounds into a flying forearm.

Both women scramble up.

Latoya tags Blade back in.

Bama: Now here comes the big John!

Blade rushes forward and blasts Betsy with a hard clothesline that nearly flips her inside out.
XXXVI steps through the ropes immediately and fires off a running dropkick to Blade’s chest, knocking him back into the corner.

But the referee quickly forces XXXVI back out!

Blade grabs Betsy and drives a knee into her midsection before tagging Latoya again.
Latoya enters and begins hammering Betsy with strikes in the corner—forearm, forearm, knee to the ribs.

She pulls Betsy out and lifts her for a vertical suplex.

Betsy floats behind her and shoves Latoya into the ropes. Latoya rebounds with a spinning back elbow that drops Betsy to the mat.

Latoya covers.

1!

Betsy kicks out.

Latoya drags her toward the corner and tags Blade again.

Blade stomps down hard on Betsy’s back before hauling her up and driving her into the mat with a snap powerslam.

He hooks the leg!

1!

Betsy kicks out again!

Todd: They can’t even get Betsy Granger to a 2 count!

Bama: That Granger is one bad mama jama’, Todd!

Blade pulls her up and tries to whip her across the ring.

Betsy reverses it.

Blade hits the ropes.

Betsy dives—

TAG.

XXXVI springs over the ropes as Blade rebounds.

XXXVI blasts him with a flying knee.

Blade stumbles.

XXXVI hits the ropes again and nails a spinning heel kick that drops him to one knee. Latoya rushes in to break it up—

Betsy intercepts her with a running dropkick that sends both women tumbling through the ropes to the outside.

Inside the ring, XXXVI grabs Blade and hoists him up for a snap suplex.

Blade lands hard!

XXXVI lifts him again, twisting into a second suplex.

Blade tries to scramble toward his corner, reaching for Latoya.

Latoya pulls herself up onto the apron just as Betsy slides back into the ring.

XXXVI grabs Blade’s legs and drags him back.

Latoya charges in to help.

Betsy intercepts her again with a forearm that rocks her backward.

The four of them collide in the ring in a chaotic exchange.

Blade shoves XXXVI into the ropes.

Latoya rushes Betsy.

Everything explodes at once.

XXXVI flips Blade with a sudden arm drag.

Betsy nails Latoya with a spinning kick to the gut.

Latoya doubles over.

XXXVI immediately grabs Blade’s legs and drops backward, trapping him in a Romero special into a dragon sleeper!

He leans back hard, wrenching the hold.

Blade howls.

Latoya rushes forward to break it—

Betsy catches her!

In one smooth motion Betsy grabs Latoya from behind and locks in an indian deathlock before she arches backward into a bridging counter, trapping Latoya’s upper body while XXXVI maintains his finishing submission on Blade.

Bama: Betsy just locked in Tuez les étoiles!

Todd: And at the same time, XXXVI is holding John Blade in that Third Eye Bind!

Latoya thrashes!

Betsy pulls tighter!

The bridge deepens!

Latoya screams!

Then slaps the mat, at the exact same time as John Blade!

Winners - XXXVI and Betsy Granger!

The bell rings!

XXXVI immediately releases Blade. Betsy lets go of Latoya and rolls out of the bridge, both of them breathing hard on the canvas.

Todd: A dominant win from Betsy and XXXVI! If they weren’t scheduled to square off against each other at March Madness, I’d say they should challenge for the Anarchy Tag Belts!

Bama: They made a hell of a team tonight, Todd! But at March Madness, they won’t be working together: they’ll be duking it out! It’s going to be a must-see match for the Revolution Championship!
Todd: That's God's honest truth! Betsy Granger and Thirty-Six put on a showcase tonight, but at March Madness, they’re going to take it to a whole 'nother’ level!

For a moment, the two teammates simply lie there.
Then they look at each other.

Both slowly push themselves up.

XXXVI extends a hand.

Betsy takes it.

They pull each other to their feet, standing in the center of the ring. Partners tonight, but both know that next time they meet, XXXVI’s championship will be between them!

[/b]

Charlie Nickles walks through the garage, phone in hand.

Charlie turns the corner near the production trucks—

—and stops.

Jennie Nickles is lying on the concrete beside one of the vehicles.

Completely still.

“Jennie!”

Charlie runs over and drops to his knees beside her.
He rolls her gently onto her back.

Her eyes are closed.

Her face is covered with a crimson mask of her own blood.

Charlie’s voice panics instantly!

“Jennie—hey—hey, wake up!”

He taps her cheek.

Nothing.

“HEY! SOMEBODY! HELP!”

Footsteps approach behind him.

Charlie looks up.

The Director steps into the light.

Charlie points frantically.

“Call an ambulance!”

The Director already has his phone out.

“I have.”

Charlie grips Jennie’s lifeless hand tightly.

“Come on, Jen… stay with me…”

Within moments sirens echo through the garage.

Two paramedics rush in and kneel beside her.

“Pulse is weak but steady.”

“She’s breathing.”

Charlie backs away just enough for them to work.

“Is she gonna be okay?”

“We’re taking her to the hospital.”

They load Jennie onto a stretcher and wheel her quickly toward the ambulance waiting outside.
Charlie tries to follow.

A paramedic stops him.

“Let us stabilize her first.”

The ambulance doors slam shut in Charlie’s distraught face.

Sirens scream as it pulls away.

Charlie stands frozen in the garage, watching the lights disappear down the street.

Behind him, The Director quietly watches the same direction.

After a long silence, he finally speaks.

“Strange how quickly life can change.”

Charlie turns toward him, shaken and angry.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

The Director studies him calmly.

Then simply says:

“I imagine you’ll find out soon enough.”

Centurion strolls down to the ring as his entrance theme blares across The Showboat’s PA system. A loud blast of pyrotechnics shoot off as Centurion steps through the ropes. The crowd cheers his name, and the ladies blow him Showboatloads of kisses, as everyone celebrates his main event appearance!

Todd: It’s the man of the hour himself! The legend, the XWF TV champion, and the 25th Anniversary-boy himself: CENTURION!

Bama: Centurion pulled some strings and got an entire show dedicated to stroking his ego, and frankly, I can’t blame him! But did you see who he chose to book himself against? Centurion’s going to have a hell of a challenge inside that ring tonight!

Todd: And that’s EXACTLY the way Centurion wants it! No short cuts, no easy paths. Centurion is the best of the best, and he wants to prove it against top-notch talent! It’s his 25th Anniversary Special, and he wants to put on the best show of all time! So strap in folks: because this night is about to get X-TREME!

The arena goes dark as Parkway Drive’s “Crushed” growls to life through the speakers. The low, distorted riff reverberates through the building, and the crowd erupts in anticipation. Red lights pulse in time with the bass, casting the arena in a steady, heartbeat-like glow. Smoke begins to pour from the stage, rising into the air as the tron shows hourglasses spilling sand and statues shattering.

Through the haze, Ken Davison steps forward.

He pauses at the top of the ramp, head bowed, letting the moment breathe. Then, slowly, he lifts his arms outward into his cruciform pose. The crowd swells, rising to their feet, chanting his name as the red light frames him like something carved from myth rather than flesh.

Ring Announcer: “From Baltimore, Maryland… weighing in at two hundred and twenty-four pounds… ‘Godly’ Ken Davison!”

Ken lowers his arms and begins his march down the ramp, each step measured, deliberate, in sync with the pounding drums. His expression is calm, focused, and unshaken. Fans lean over the barricade, reaching for him, and he brushes fingertips with them as he passes, brief contact that feels more ritual than celebration.

At ringside, he stops.

Ken looks out over the crowd for a moment, taking them in, not with pride, but with quiet certainty. Then, without breaking that composure, he turns and slams his palm against the apron with a sharp crack that cuts through the music.

He climbs the steps and steps through the ropes with precise, practiced intent.

At the center of the ring, Ken spreads his arms wide once more, commanding the space without saying a word. The red lights wash over him as the noise crescendos. Then he drops to one knee, presses his fist into the mat, and rises again, standing tall, eyes forward, ready.

Bama: Shit. Just. Got. Real.

Todd: “Godly” Ken Davison is making his XWF debut tonight, live from The Showboat in Atlantic City! And of course, it’s the main event. Because how else could “Godly” Ken Davison debut?! Davison’s reputation stretches across companies, it stretches across the entire industry! And tonight? He’s about to lay it all on the line against one of the XWF’s greats.

Bama: I’m already pre-certifying this match as a knock-em-down, drag-em-out, slobber-knockin’ barn burner! Centurion? And “Godly” Ken Davison? Standing across the ring from each other?! FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER?!?!

Todd: It’s. About. To go down!

CENTURION ©
- vs -
"GODLY" KEN DAVISON

NON-TITLE SINGLES MATCH!

The main event bell rings.

Centurion and Ken Davison step forward slowly.

The crowd inside The Showboat buzzes with anticipation, the atmosphere thick with tension.

Two ring technicians. Two masters of the game.

They circle.

Neither man rushes.

Todd: Both men are feeling each out in the early stages! Centurion knows how damn good Davison is, and Ken knows how damn good Cent’ is! Neither wrestler wants to rush-in headfirst and give their opponent an opportunity!

Bama: This is what happens when a brick wall meets an immovable object, Todd- but I’m not sure which is which tonight!

Ken Davison reaches first with a collar-and-elbow tie-up. Centurion meets him head-on. They strain chest to chest, boots grinding against the mat as they test leverage.

Centurion slips an arm under, shifting into a tight side headlock.

Davison plants his feet, presses Centurion toward the ropes, and shoves him off.

Centurion rebounds.

Davison drops down.

Centurion hops over.

Davison leapfrogs.

Centurion rebounds again—

Davison catches him with a crisp arm drag!

Centurion rolls through it immediately and pops back up.

Davison smirks.

Centurion nods once.

They circle again.

Bama: This is like watching two lions go at it! Two predators in their natural environment, each vying for the upperhand- but both respecting the skill of the other!

Todd: This is the kind of match you usually only get on pay-per-view! But Centurion loves his fan, and he’s brought a major marquee match-up to Anarchy! Centurion and Davison- one on one for the first time ever- and so far, it’s living up to the hype!

Centurion and Davison lockup!

Davison transitions into a hammerlock. Centurion counters by rolling forward and flipping through, reversing into a wristlock. Davison cartwheels out and snaps off another arm drag.

Centurion lands seated, rolls backward, and rises again.

Davison shoots low for a waistlock.

Centurion hooks Davison’s leg and drags him down into a grounded headscissors.

Davison rolls sideways and bridges up, spinning free before grabbing Centurion’s ankle.

He twists into a standing ankle lock.

Centurion hops twice before flipping forward into a roll that sends Davison tumbling across the mat.

Both men scramble up again.

Then pause.

The crowd gives a standing ovation of applause!

Todd: This is a technical wrestling showcase, and these fans are loving every minute of it!

Bama: Thank God Centurion has more than 15 minutes for tonight’s match, because I don’t think 15 minutes would be enough for either of them to win!

Another tie-up!

This time Centurion slips behind with a waistlock.

Davison counters with a standing switch.

Centurion reaches down, hooks the leg, and flips Davison over with a quick leg sweep takedown.

Davison spins onto his stomach and pushes up—

Centurion immediately snaps him backward with a tight German suplex.

Davison rolls through the impact and rises to one knee.

Centurion rushes forward—

Davison catches him with a lightning-fast snap powerslam.

Both men rise again.

Davison charges with a running forearm.

Centurion absorbs it and fires back with a knife-edge chop.

CRACK!

Another chop.

Another CRACK!

Davison answers with a European uppercut that snaps Centurion’s head back.

Centurion staggers a step before driving a knee into Davison’s stomach.

He grabs Davison’s arm and whips him into the ropes.

Davison rebounds—

Centurion catches him with a perfect tilt-a-whirl backbreaker! He hooks the leg!

1!

Davison kicks out almost immediately!

Todd: It’s going to take way more than that to keep “Godly” Ken Davison down!

Bama: No kidding! Davison isn’t going to be caught lacking this early!

Centurion pulls him up again.

Davison counters with a jawbreaker that forces Centurion backward. Davison spins and delivers a spinning back elbow that knocks Centurion to the mat.

Davison hits the ropes and launches into a rolling senton across Centurion’s chest.

He covers!

1!

Centurion kicks out!

Todd: Centurion still has plenty more left in his tank!

Bama: Centurion’s already wrestled for 25 years, but tonight- he’s looking like a man who could wrestle for 25 more!

Davison pulls him up again and lifts him into a vertical suplex.

He holds him there.

For five seconds.

The crowd gasps at the feat of “Godly” strength!

For ten seconds!

The crowd loses their mind at the suplex showcase!

Then, Davison finally drops Centurion with a delayed vertical suplex!

The entire ring shakes from the impact!

Bama: Damn, Todd! With strength like that, I’m starting to think Ken Davison might really be a God! He’s built like Zeus himself!

Todd: Ken Davison is showing everyone excellently why Centurion asked for this main event! Davison is a legend in this industry, and it’s about time he brought his greatness to XWF Anarchy!

Centurion rolls to his knees, shaking the impact away.

Davison charges—

But Centurion explodes forward with a Saito suplex that launches Davison across the ring!

Davison lands hard but immediately scrambles up.

Centurion meets him with a running knee.

Davison ducks.

Ken spins behind and lands a bridging German suplex! He keeps Centurion held down for the pin!

1!

2!!

Centurion kicks out.

Davison sits up breathing heavily.

He grabs Centurion and transitions into a grounded armbar, wrenching the joint viciously.

Centurion grits his teeth and rolls sideways.

He stacks Davison’s shoulders.

1!

But Davison releases and kicks free!

Both men scramble up again.

Davison rushes with a lariat.

Centurion ducks and grabs him around the waist.

Release German suplex.

Davison lands high on his shoulders but rolls through and pops up again.

They charge each other—

DOUBLE CLOTHESLINE.

Both men collapse to the mat!

The crowd erupts!

Todd: The God and The Legend both go down!

Bama: These men are pushing each other to the limit! They’re leaving it all in that ring, decades of experience, colliding against each other for nothing more than pride! This is what the XWF is all about!

They slowly push themselves up.

Forearm from Davison!

Forearm from Centurion!

Another forearm!

Another!

The strikes get heavier!

Centurion fires a brutal chop.

Davison answers with a kick to the ribs.

Centurion grabs him and launches him with an overhead belly-to-belly suplex.

Davison crashes hard but rolls through again!

He sprints forward—

Flying forearm!

Centurion drops.

Davison climbs the ropes quickly.

Bama: The God is climbing to the skies! He’s taking his rightful position in the heavens!

Todd: Centurion needs to wake up, because this is about to get ugly!

Once Ken reaches the top ropes, he gestures out towards the crazed crowd: clearly soaking in this moment under the spotlight.

Then, Ken turns his attention back to Centurion before closing his eyes…

AND LAUNCHING INTO A LUCHA-STYLE MOONSAULT!

But Centurion rolls away!

Davison crashes chest-first onto the canvas!

Todd: Ken Davison took to the skies, but he crashed hard on that landing! He might’ve just broken his sternum!

Bama: This is Centurion’s chance, this is Centurion’s moment! This has been a back-and-forth battle, but now, Centurion can firmly take control!....god help us all.

Centurion immediately grabs Davison and delivers a bridging northern lights suplex!

1!

2!!

Davison kicks out!

Todd: Thank God! I thought that was it!

Bama: No, thank “Godly” Ken Davison for refusing to let Centurion ruin this show with some self-aggrandizing victory!

Both men rise again slowly.

Centurion grabs Davison’s arm and twists into a hammerlock.

He lifts—

Hammerlock suplex!

Davison crashes hard.

Centurion pulls him up again and attempts another German suplex.

But Davison flips backward and lands on his feet.

He shoves Centurion into the ropes—

And when Centurion comes running back, he runs right into a Tilt–a–Whirl Backbreaker from Davison!

Davison hooks both legs.

1!

2!!

Centurion kicks out!

Bama: Centurion’s still fighting, still refusing to give up! He’s damn near 50 years old, but he’d rather die in that ring than disappoint all his fans out there!

Todd: Well let’s not go that far, Bama! I want to see Centurion live a long and healthy life!

Bama: I’m going that far, Todd! If Centurion wanted to live a long and healthy life, he never would’ve gotten into that ring with “Godly” Ken Davison!

Davison breathes heavily now.

He drags Centurion up again.

They exchange more strikes in the center of the ring.

Forearm.

Uppercut.

Chop.

Kick.

Centurion ducks a strike and launches Davison with another huge Saito suplex.

Davison rolls toward the ropes.

Centurion grabs him.

He hoists Davison high.

The crowd rises.

Centurion spins—

1000 MILE SLAM!

Davison crashes into the mat with thunderous impact, rattling all four turnbuckles!

Todd: 1000 MILE SLAM! 1000 MILE SLAM! Centurion’s done it, he’s going to get the win on his Anniversary Show! This is history in the making!

Bama: HE JUST KILLED THE GODLY ONE! I CAN’T BELIEVE MY EYES!

Centurion hooks the leg.

1!

2!!

DAVISON KICKS OUT!!!

The entire arena erupts as Davison’s shoulder flies up!

Centurion sits up in disbelief as Ken lies on the mat, gasping for air.

Bama: “Godly” Ken Davison lives! He’s fighting on, Todd!

Todd: This has been an INCREDIBLE XWF debut from Davison! Not many wrestlers have taken the 1000 Mile Slam and lived to tell about it!

Centurion drags Davison back up, determined to finish this match once and for all.

Davison is suddenly forced upward, up into-

A One Winged Angel!

TODD: CENTURION JUST PULLED OFF A FABULA NOVA CRYSTALLIS!

BAMA: THE MOST DEVASTATING FINISHER IN ANARCHY HISTORY![/blue]

Centurion collapses to the mat, exhausted after pulling off the most storied move of the last 25 years.

But after a few seconds of catching his breath, Centurion crawls over towards the wreckage of Ken Davison’s body.

Centurion’s hand slaps across Ken’s chest!

The referee slides down to make the count!

1!

2!!

3- NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Someone’s hand grabs the referee’s foot, dragging him out of the ring!

The count stops!

As the referee is suddenly dragged out of the ring by ELON MUSK!

Todd: Elon Musk?! No, no! What is that bastard doing here?!

Bama: I didn’t want this match to end, Todd- and it seems like Elon didn’t want it to end either!

The crowd erupts in furious boos.

Elon Musk stands at ringside. He yanks the referee down to the floor and grabs him by the shirt.

Elon points inside the ring.

“You finish that count and you’re fired!”

The referee protests, trying to argue- but Elon Musk isn’t having any of it!

Inside the ring, Centurion slowly pushes himself up.

The crowd begins chanting.

Centurion looks out at Musk.

Musk smirks.

Centurion runs.

He launches himself over the top rope—

SUICIDE DIVE!!!!!!

Centurion crashes directly into Elon Musk and sends him flying into the barricade!

The crowd explodes with excitement!

Todd: Well that’s one way to deal with Elon Musk!

Bama: Did Centurion just do a suicide dive?! On his 25th Anniversary Show?! What the hell is going on!

Centurion grabs Musk by the collar and slams him against the steel steps!

He punches him.

Again!

Again!

And again, just for good measure!

The crowd roars with every blow.

Centurion grabs Musk and throws him into the ring.

Musk scrambles helplessly across the mat as Centurion enters the ring!

Todd: Centurion has finally snapped! Elon Musk has pushed him to his limit, and now…it looks like Centurion might do something he’ll regret!

Bama: Someone needs to step in, and bring Centurion to his senses! Elon may be an asshole, but he’s still Centurion’s boss!

He drags Musk to the center of the ring.

The crowd chants.

“ONE MORE TIME!”

Centurion lifts Musk into the air, amidst a standing ovation from the crowd.

1000 Mile Slam position!

But suddenly—

Ken Davison rushes forward, driving a forearm into Centurion’s back!

Centurion drops Musk.

Davison hooks both arms.

He spins Centurion around-

INTO THE ARD DRIVER!

Davison’s patented Spinning Sitdown Double Underhook Facebuster!

Centurion crashes face-first into the mat!

Davison collapses on top of him.

The referee slides back into the ring to make the count!

1!

2!!

3!!!

Winner - “Godly” Ken Davison

The bell rings!

Ken Davison rolls off the fallen Centurion, breathing heavily as the crowd inside The Showboat erupts in stunned noise amidst a smattering of boos.

TODD: "What a travesty! Elon Musk just screwed Centurion here tonight on the Centurion 25th Anniversary Special!"

BAMA T: "Twenty five YEARS, Todd! Twenty five YEARS, all for Ken Davison to take him down in one night!"

TODD: “Take him down?! Centurion had this match won, until Elon Musk stuck his nose in it!”

Centurion is breathing heavy on the mat as the ref raises Ken Davison’s arm into the air.

Elon Musk suddenly slides into the scene, trying to cozy up to his new friend- Ken Davison! But Ken looks disgusted by Elon’s presence.

Bama: Ken Davison and Elon Musk: is this the new power-couple of XWF Anarchy?! If they took down Centurion together, then, I bet they could take down this entire roster together! It’s a stroke of genius!

Todd: Pump the brakes, Bama- I’m not sure Ken Davison agreed to this!

As soon as the referee releases Ken’s arm- Elon grabs it, before raising it back into the air for the crowd to see!

But Ken Davison isn’t having any of it.

Elon looks up at Ken’s face, but he only notices Davison’s scowl once it’s too late….

Because as soon as they lock eyes, “Godly” Ken Davison grabs Elon Musk by the collar- before driving him to the mat with an ARD DRIVER!

The crowd goes crazy!

Then, Ken Davison extends a hand towards Centurion- helping the XWF legend to his feet. They share a look of mutual respect before Ken Davison exits the ring, and disappears up the ramp.

Todd: This was a hell of a night, Bama- and it’s a damn shame Elon Musk decided to rob Centurion on his own Anniversary Show! But at least Ken and Centurion seem to have buried the hatchet!

Bama: This was a match for the ages, Todd!

Todd: It sure was, Bama’! It’s a damn shame to end the show on this note, although I suppose we don’t have a choice-

But then suddenly!

TODD: "Oh come on…"

BAMA T: "Hey, you can’t close out a Celebration on Anarchy without the Anarchy Champion!"

Green lasers scatter across the stage.

Micheal Graves steps out onto the stage. A big grin under his mask, spanning ear to ear. The Anarchy Championship and Universal Championships are both around his waist.

TODD: "I doubt he's here to celebrate..."

Miss Furry walks a step behind him holding a rectangular gift box wrapped in gold paper.

BAMA T: "What are you talkin' about Todd? He comes barring gifts! Our new Universal Champion just wants to celebrate Centurion's longevity!"

Graves walks a casual stroll down the ramp.

He climbs the steps and slips through the ropes.

TODD: "Centurion and Micheal Graves, two of the most tenured men in the XWF today, now stand face to face on Anarchy!"

Centurion doesn't look thrilled to see him.

BAMA T: "All that shared time, and they've never once gotten along, baby!"

Graves looks around the arena and takes in the mixed reaction like it's a standing ovation.

Then he looks at Centurion as he brings microphone to lip.

"Twenty five years, huh?"

The crowd pops.

"That's rare."

He walks around Centurion in a slow stride.

"Most guys?"

"Five."

"Ten years if they're lucky."

He lands face to face and shrugs.

"They break."

"They quit."

"They bitch out and run off somewhere they think'll be easier on their frail, old, pain-riddled bodies."

He stabs Centurion’s chest with his finger.

"But you!?"

Anger flashes in Centurion’s eyes as he swats Graves hand away.

Graves no sells.

"You stayed."

Miss Furry steps forward and hands Graves the gift box.

Graves holds it out.

"For you."

Centurion doesn't move.

Graves tilts his head.

"C'mon..."

His smile widens.

"It's your big night..."

After a moment Centurion cautiously takes the box.

TODD: "I don't like this."

BAMA T: "I don’t think I’d trust a gift from Graves either…"

Centurion peels the wrapping and carefully opens the box.

Inside: A gold framed mirror.

At the bottom of the frame, etched into the gold:
[/b]

25 YEARS | XWF | FOUNDATION

CENTURION

Centurion looks confused.

Graves points at the mirror.

"Go ahead, hold it up."

Centurion looks into it as Graves steps beside him so they both appear in the reflection.

He taps Centurion’s reflection.

"That man right there."

"He built this place."

Graves nods slowly as the crowd cheers in support of Cent.

"Twenty five years."

"Quarter century."

"You poured the concrete."

"You laid the bricks."

"You spent decades holdin’ the walls up."

Graves points at Centurion in the reflection again.

"You know what that makes you?"

Graves pauses, allowing the question to hang.

"Foundation."

The crowd murmurs.

"Foundations are built to be tough. Built to last. Built for the long haul. But at the end of the day... Nobody remembers the foundation."

He taps the two championship belts hanging around his waist: The Anarchy and Universal Championships.

"They remember the house sittin' on it."

He gestures to himself.

"And guess who owns it?"

The crowd boos.

"Yep, twenty five years."

Graves leans in uncomfortably close.

"And the best thing you ever did…

Was build my house…"

Deafening boos.

"Go ahead, bre—

Centurion swings the mirror over Graves' head!

[b]*SHATTERING GLASS*[/b]

TODD: "OH MY GOD!"

Glass shards scatter across the ring as Graves staggers, but he doesn’t go down...

He fires back!

A right hook across the jaw!

Another!

Centurion fires back!

The crowd roars as the two continue to trade shots.

TODD: "And now it's a fight!"

BAMA T: "Graves got exactly what he wanted, baby!"

Centurion rocks Graves with a forearm. Graves rebounds off the ropes and drives his shoulder into Centurions mid-section and pushing him into the corner.

They crash into the turnbuckles, but Centurion keeps on swinging. He shoves Graves back and blasts him with Bloody Symphony!

Graves staggers, half out on his feet.

The crowd is losing its mind!

TODD: "The champ's been rocked!"

Centurion lands another forearm.

Then another.

Graves returns fire with a hook that rocks Cent for a second, but he shakes it off and grabs Graves arm—

BAMA T: "UH-OH, BABY!"

—and hoists the Anarchy Champion up across his shoulders as the crowd EXPLODES!

TODD: "He’s got him!"

BAMA T: "1000 MILE SLAM!"

Graves thrashes, throwing elbows into Centurion’s head trying to break loose, but before Centurion can plant him—

Miss Furry dives in and grabs Graves by the leg, yanking hard and pulling Graves off Centurion’s shoulders.

Centurion spins around swinging, but Furry ducks and immediately drags Graves toward the ropes.

TODD: "Miss Furry intervenes in the nick of time!"

BAMA T: "She just saved Anarchy’s new Universal champion, baby!"

Graves scrambles as Furry shoves him through the ropes.

Centurion storms toward the ropes ready to pursue, but Furry is already pulling Graves up the ramp.

Graves laughs through the shattered glass and blood stuck in the mask as he retreats up the ramp.

Centurion bends down and picks up the discarded microphone.

Centurion: 25 years, I’ve seen all kinds of changes happen in this company. Shows change, new owners, belts come and go, but there has always been one constant - Michael Graves being a complete piece of shit!

The crowd roars as Graves and Furry both point towards Centurion and yell at him.

Centurion: You yap and you yap and you yap, but the moment someone gets back in your face, you cower behind one of your lackeys. You may be the big dog now, but that’s in name ONLY, and I can prove it…by taking that Universal Title off your waist!

The crowd explodes as Centurion points to Graves. Graves grabs his Universal Title and holds it to his chest and gives Centurion the middle finger, which causes Centurion to hop out of the ring and storm towards the champ! Before they can reach again, however, security and crew run down to get between both men, holding Centurion and Graves back from one another. They look as if the situation is handled…

…but Centurion breaks through and DIVES at Graves! The crowd goes nuts as Centurion and Graves exchange punches over the heads of the various crew members, causing many of them to either fall to to the side or duck down. Out from the back walks Dick Lichter, gesturing to the backstage area, as several jobbers and local wrestlers now join the fray to try and break up these two.

BAMA T: These two are going to tear down the entire building!

The crowd starts a massive “Centurion! Centurion!” chant as the two champions are pulled even further away from each other.

[b]LICHTER: That. Is. ENOUGH! The two of you have caused enough trouble! We are only a few weeks away from March Madness, and I do NOT need my entire roster on the shelf because you two can’t control yourselves! I just got off the phone with the trillionaires, and they have given me their full support to do what is BEST for the Anarchy brand. So, let me start with you, Mister Graves. Congratulations on becoming the new Universal Champion. Enjoy, because as of right now, you are being STRIPPED of the Anarchy Title!

A furious Graves now turns his attention towards Lichter, but is unable to charge at him through this sea of humanity.

LICHTER: As for you, Cent, your request for a Universal Title shot? That has been denied.

The crowd boos as Centurion just glares at Lichter.

LICHTER: HOWEVER, after speaking with the trillionaires, we have decided to work out a deal- because frankly, your NFTs sold like hot cakes.

And we think we can milk your fans, just a little bit more, until your well finally runs dry!

So Centurion, you can have another shot at the Universal Title, BUT, Two things have to happen first. Michael Graves has to retain the title at March Madness…and YOU have to win the vacated Anarchy Championship…against his protege, Miss Furry!

And if you're a good boy until then, Centurion...then maybe The Trillionaires won't fuck you out of another marquee victory!

Lichter breaks into a fit of villainous laughter as the crowd is stunned to silence.

Todd: Wait a second, wait a second! Did Lichter just STRIP Graves of the Anarchy Championship!

Bama: We don’t have any seconds to wait, Todd! We’re already way over our runtime, and the network is going to cut us off any second now!

Todd: But there’s so much left to say! Miss Furry is taking on Centurion for the biggest prize on Anarchy, Centurion could earn himself another shot at the Universal Champion, and oh yeah- what the hell happened to Jennie Nickles earlier tonight?!!

Bama: If the audience cares about the answers to those questions, they’re going to have to tune into MARCH MADNESS!

THANKS TO ALL OF OUR HANDSOME AND SEXY MATCHWRITERS

“BIG” DICK LICHTER
“LIL” PETER PRINCIPALE’

AND TO EVERYONE WHO SUBMITTED WONDERFUL SEGMENTS

Centurion
Kieran “Was” King
The (snuff film) Director
“Possibly” Micheal Graves
Miss Fur®y
“Huge” Dick Lichter

AND TO EVERYONE WHO RPED FOR CENTURION’S ANNIVERSARY SHOW <3

[/b]]]>

ANTLANTIC CITY, NEW JERSEY

MR. OZ
- vs -
REGGIE ESTRADA
- vs -
SUMMER PAGE

X-TREME RULEZ TRIPLE THREAT!

XXXVI © & BETSY GRANGER
- vs -
JOHN BLADE & LATOYA HIXX

TAG MATCH!

Each team can write 1 collaborative roleplay of 2k words

or

Each team can write 2 separate roleplays at 1k words each

CENTURION ©
- vs -
"GODLY" KEN DAVISON

NON-TITLE SINGLES MATCH!

PRESENTED BY THE TRILLIONAIRES

LIMITED EDITION CENTURION NFT COLLECTION — AVAILABLE NOW

MR. OZ
- vs -
REGGIE ESTRADA
- vs -
SUMMER PAGE

X-TREME RULEZ TRIPLE THREAT!

Highlight Reel!

Winner - Mr. Oz

Highlight Reel!

Quote:Each competitor will be given a pair of fangs and a cloak. Using ONLY the fangs and cloak provided, they must prove to Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing that they are in fact a REAL vampire!

MAY CONTAIN PEANUTS!

WINNER BY KNOCKOUT: Kristoffer Arroyo!

When The Strom is Coming hits Latoya Hixx. they heard a voice laugh in the background and saw blue lights from the entrance and some smoke and rainfall coming down she walked onto the middle stage flexed her muscles walked straight down towards the aisle slapped a few XWF fans got inside the ring and dim the lights in the ring and she flexes her arms once more and spread her arms and climbs on the top rope and yell at her fans and tells them to let's go and climbs down off the ropes and waits for her Opponents to arrive.

Todd: Latoya Hixx has long-standing beef with Betsy Granger, and now, she’s got the chance to get her hands on her once more tonight!

Bama: Hixx-on-Granger action? Oh boy, count me in!

Full black.

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. He 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.

Todd: And here comes the reigning, defending, undisputed REVOLUTION Champion- THIRTY-SIX!

Bama: After his recent split from The Director, XXXVI found himself alone in this world- but not for long, because tonight he’s teaming up with the #1 contender to his championship belt!

Todd: SPEAK OF THE TRAVELER!

XXXVI © & BETSY GRANGER
- vs -
JOHN BLADE & LATOYA HIXX

TAG MATCH!

Each team can write 1 collaborative roleplay of 2k words

or

Each team can write 2 separate roleplays at 1k words each

Highlight Reel!

Winners - XXXVI and Betsy Granger!

CENTURION ©
- vs -
"GODLY" KEN DAVISON

NON-TITLE SINGLES MATCH!

Winner - “Godly” Ken Davison

25 YEARS | XWF | FOUNDATION

CENTURION

[b]*SHATTERING GLASS*[/b]

[/b]]]> <![CDATA[ANARCHY 02/26/26]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=49839 Thu, 26 Feb 2026 23:35:54 -0800 'Big' Dick Lichter]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=49839

XWF Anarchy
[Image: vuE1ZV0.png]

2 - 26 - 2026

LIVE FROM SCOTIABANK ARENA!

TORONTO, CANADA

MR. OZ
- vs -
???
- vs -
???
- vs -
???

MR. OZ'S OPEN CHALLENGE GAUNTLET MATCH!

Mr. Oz has issued an open challenge against every member of the roster! Oz will have 3 consecutive matches against the first 3 wrestlers to declare for his gauntlet.

Mr. Oz must write 3 RPs, one for every stage of the gauntlet!

XXXVI ©
- vs -
BOBBY SALES

SHAMWOW CHALLENGE!

It's like a first blood match, but you can only win by cleaning up your opponent's blood with an XWF-branded ShamWow!

SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
MISS FURRY
- vs -
JOHN BLADE

X-TREME RULES TRIPLE THREAT!

SIR LIONEL PENNYFARTHING
- vs -
MICHEAL GRAVES ©

'ALLEGING' MICHEAL GRAVES MATCH!

Each competitor will be given a bucket of props and a costume. Using only the props and costumes provided, they must prove beyond the shadow of a doubt that they are the REAL Micheal Graves by getting the referee to "allege" it. No count outs, no submissions, no pinfalls, and no DQs!

May the best actor win!

CLOWNS R' US
SCHADENFREUDE CLOWN, ENNUI CLOWN, & ENIGMATIC CLOWN
- vs -
THE KINGSGUARD
KINGSGUARD #7, KINSGUARD #8, & KINGSGUARD #9

HANG THE JESTERS MATCH!

Each Kingsguard will be given a noose. Each Clown will be given a pie.

The only way The Kingsguard can win, is by stringing up all the clowns from a hanging post in the middle of the ring.

The only way Clowns R' Us can win, is by eating all 3 pies before all 3 Clowns are hanged.

1 RP per team @ 2,000 words

EARLIER TODAY

As the show is set to begin, a nervous looking Dick Lichter is standing outside of the building, pacing back and forth. After some time passes, a white Tesla car comes screeching into view, parking directly in front of him. The driver of the vehicle quickly gets out the car and runs to the passanger side. He opens the door, and out steps Elon Musk in all his Musky glory.

LICHTER: Mr. Musk! So happy you made it…

MUSK: Yeah yeah, listen, I've got a big announcement to make tonight, and I need to make sure everything goes off without a hitch. Tighten up security. And let the staff know that Centurion is barred from the arena tonight.

Lichter nervously nods as he looks at Musk. Musk doesn't move or say anything - he just snaps his fingers, and Lichter takes off running. A sea of aids then form behind him as he walks into the arena.

Oswald stands amidst an indie metal band, watching the ring, looking at the band. Soon a choir is heard as the band begins to play his theme song. He walks towards the lead guitarist, clapping him gently on the back so as to not mess up her playing. Oswald, walks down the ramp, the bottom of his white cloak dragging along the ground.

TODD: Once more, folks, get ready to witness the dominating presence that is Mister Oz!

BAMA: For the last few weeks in a row, Ozzy has demanded three! Count ‘em, THREE matches!

TODD: Admittedly, Oz’s record during this streak has not been perfect. In fact, last week, due to some oddball luck, atypical officiating, and an opportune roll-up by Miss Furry, Oz batted 0-for-3 last Anarchy!

BAMA: But remember the result, Toddrick! One of those men is currently stuck in a hospital bed! His jaw had to be wired shut! That clown in the second slot got pummeled into a smiley-face shaped BLOOD SPLATTER! And Miss Furry got L-U-C-K-E-E LUCKY after those first two dumb results threw Oz off his game!

TODD: We did see Oz in the back before these matches and he looks focused! He looks determined! To get back to his dominant ways! To prove he is, as he often says, the FACE of Anarchy! And the workhorse of the XWF!

Once at the ring, he'd leap onto the apron before launching himself to show how strong and agile he was to lift such mass with such ease right over the top rope and de-cloaked himself, placing it in his corner before stretching out his arms in a lower case t and roaring out to the crowd before going and sitting on top of his cloak, awaiting the bell as he mentally plans out the match, as well as how to try and beat his opponent.

TODD: Remember! This week is different than any before it, Bama! This is not only Oz taking on three opponents! This is an open gauntlet! Literally anyone can come out and face Oz right now!

BAMA: But who in their right mind would want to step into the ring with Oz, Toddy baby!

…

Big Preesh struts to the ring throwing his hands up in the air in time with the music.

TODD: Wow! What?!? Big Preesh!

BAMA: Hot damn! This just got interesting! Oz’s open challenge… and the first opponent is one of the only guys on the roster bigger than Oz!

He holds out the front of his BOB tee shirt and shouts about how much he loves being a part of the best group in pro wrestling.

TODD: Preesh is four inches taller than Oz… And 324 pounds heavier!

BAMA: Hope Oz packed his-self a sack lunch cuz this first match is gonna be an all-day job!

When he gets to the ring he punches the top turnbuckle like a speed bag and then shouts "YEAH BITCH!" with his arms raised before waiting for the bell to ring.

He doesn’t have to wait long! The bell rings!

MISTER OZ
- vs -
BIG PREESH

Gauntlet Match #1 of 3

Big Preesh stands in his corner, his lips curled into a cocky grin, nostrils flaring wide as he throws his arms out to soak in imaginary adoration.

TODD: Preesh might wanna watch himself here… He’s looking confident… maybe too confident…

Preesh lumbers forward and throws his full 650-pound frame into a heavy shoulder tackle, trying to flatten Oz immediately.

Oz plants his feet instead of backing down. His chest expands with a controlled breath — fury contained, not explosive.

He drops his center of gravity and absorbs the collision.

The impact booms through the ring — but Preesh stumbles backward instead of Oz!

Preesh’s cocky grin flickers. His eyes widen for half a second. His breathing hitches.

[blue]BAMA: Hot damn! Preesh got tried to bowl Oz over, but ended up getting bounced back!

TODD: That’s Oz through sheer technical ability and an unbreakable force of will resisting a three-hundred-plus pound size advantage in his opponent’s favor!

Preesh snorts, thinking that must have been a fluke…

Preesh snarls and rushes again, this time swinging a wild clothesline, trying to reassert dominance.

Oz’s lips press into a cold line. His head tilts slightly as if disappointed. His shoulders dip.

Because he sees the opening created by Preesh’s overreach, Oz ducks cleanly under the clothesline and springs off the ropes.

Preesh’s eyes follow him too late, as his forward momentum carries him into a rebound off the ropes…

WHAM! Oz launches into a lightning-fast dropkick, both boots crashing into Preesh’s chest!

Preesh’s mouth flies open in shock as his massive body topples backward like a falling tree.

TODD: Dropkick from Oz!

BAMA: Big boys ain’t built to fall like that, Toddrick!

Preesh rolls to a knee, his face reddening with embarrassment. He shakes his head violently, slapping his own chest!

TODD: Preesh trying to wake himself up here! Trying to refind that confidence he started the match with!

Preesh surges forward and snatches Oz into a crushing bear hug, squeezing with desperation more than control.

Oz’s eyes squeeze shut. His teeth grit. His ribs visibly compress as Preesh roars into the crowd.

Because oxygen is being stolen from him, Oz’s expression shifts from pain to calculation. His brow smooths. His body stops struggling wildly.

He draws his knees upward and suddenly drives a sharp high knee into Preesh’s ribs!

Preesh’s roar turns into a stunned grunt. His grip loosens.

Because his equilibrium wavers, Preesh staggers backward.

Oz’s chest rises and falls evenly. His expression remains ice-cold.

Oz stalks forward like a predator closing in…

Preesh tries to catch Oz surging… he suddenly lunges for a desperate…

BIG HEADBUTT!

Oz’s eyes widen for a split second — then harden.

Because he anticipates the reckless charge, Oz sidesteps and hooks Preesh’s arm.

With shocking strength, Oz hoists the 650-pounder into a trembling delayed vertical suplex, holding him upside down… squatting once… twice…

Preesh’s eyes bulge in panic, arms flailing as blood rushes to his head.

Because gravity cannot be denied forever, Oz drops him flat.

The mat quakes.

Preesh gasps, staring at the lights.

Oz’s nostrils flare. A flicker of contempt crosses his face, as he floats into a cover!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

Winner of Match #1: Mister Oz!

Oz releases slowly.

Preesh rolls to his side, coughing and disoriented.

Oz stands.

His face shows no celebration. Only cold vindication.

Because he views Preesh as an obstacle, not a rival, Oz grips the giant by the leg and drags him toward the ropes.

With dismissive contempt, Oz boots Big Preesh under the bottom rope like discarded trash.

Preesh spills to the floor in a heap.

Todd: That was decisive. That was surgical.

Bama T: Preesh thought he was walkin’ into a highlight reel. Instead he got judged.

Oz steps back to the center of the ring.

His shoulders square. His jaw sets. His breathing slows.

Quiet fury radiates from him.

Waiting.

Ready for the second sacrifice in the gauntlet.

…

Southern Gentleman Detective Clown emerges through the curtain under the X-Tron with dramatic flair! He paces at the top of the ramp, stroking his chin as he ponders the intricacies of the mystery that is his opponent this evening!

[blue]TODD: Southern Gentleman Detective Clown! This suave sleuth, with a syrupy southern drawl dripping from the depths of his duodenum might prove to be a very interesting challenge for Mister Oz!

BAMA: Oz has an 0-1 record against clowns! …Well, okay, clowns as in actual clowns, not clowns like Sir Lionel and Preesh, who he has consistently dominated! But the actual clown that Oz wrestled last Anarchy, Oz accidentally got his-self disqualified against!

TODD: Let’s see if he can correct that tonight!

With a flash, SGDC has a eureka moment! He strolls down the ring, looking southern, looking gentlemanly, and most of all, looking like a detective clown…

MISTER OZ
- vs -
SOUTHERN GENTLEMAN DETECTIVE CLOWN

Gauntlet Match #2 of 3

SGDC stands just outside striking range, chin tilted curiously, eyes narrowed in theatrical intrigue. His gloved finger strokes his painted mustache.

Because he believes Oz is a puzzle to be dismantled, he circles slowly, head cocked as if considering every angle of this mystery that is Oz...

Oz’s jaw tightens. His nostrils flare faintly.

TODD: I don’t think Oz likes clowns! He’s like a rodeo bull eager to charge!

BAMA: I don’t think Oz likes anybody! He’s like a psychopath about to dismantle an idiot! And by “like”, I mean, the front row should have a big Gallagher tarp if they don’t want to get covered in clown blood!/blue]

Oz suddenly lunges forward with a devastating clothesline, aiming to decapitate the clown in one motion.

SGDC’s eyes widen — not in fear, but delighted surprise.

Because he anticipated brute force, he casually steps aside with exaggerated politeness, tipping his hat as Oz’s arm cuts through empty air.

[blue]TODD: SGDC seems comfortable letting the clues accumulate before he solves this caper!

BAMA: What caper? The mystery is Oz is going to LITERALLY MURDER HIM!

Oz pivots and charges with a shoulder tackle, intending to crush SGDC into paste.

SGDC gasps dramatically, hand to chest.

Because brute momentum is predictable and he can calculate such caveman strength with a simple application of his inscrutable mind, SGDC drops flat to the mat at the last possible second.

Oz sails over him awkwardly and crashes chest-first into the turnbuckles!

The ropes rattle.

SGDC pops up behind him, dusting off Oz’s back politely.

Oz slowly turns.

His expression now shows visible irritation.

Oz charges out of the corner… SGDC strokes his chin, back turned from Oz…

BAMA: That clown’s about to be a rainbow-colored corpse!

Oz charges… Stampeding!

But SGDC gasps at something on the mat! A clue!

He ducks forward, extending a leg backward! SGDC wags a finger and suddenly sticks his foot out.

Oz steps forward—

Cleanly tripping Oz, who stumbles forward!

TODD: SGDC found a clue! One step closer to closing this case!

SGDC lifts a small piece of paper to his eyes…

He retrieves a magnifying glass from his coat pocket and examines it…

You should beat Oz

SGDC gasps! What a concept!

Oz explodes upward in an incredibly athletic kip-up! He barrels toward his opponent and swings a vicious big boot.

SGDC’s eyes go wide again — delighted.

Because he thrives in chaos, he bends backward in an exaggerated limbo-like dodge, the boot grazing the tip of his nose.

He freezes in that pose, smiling smugly at Oz upside down.

Oz’s face hardens into stone.

Because anger clouds patience, Oz storms forward and grabs for SGDC’s throat.

SGDC gasps theatrically.

Because direct engagement means death, he crawls like a spider backwards between Oz’s legs, rolls through, and pops up behind him — slapping Oz lightly on the back of the head.

Oz turns again, fury now visible in the tightness of his brow.

SGDC pulls a notepad from his jacket and scribbles.

“Subject prone to emotional escalation,” he mutters audibly.

Oz’s chest heaves…

AND IN A FLASH HE SCOOPS SGDC OFF HIS FEET!

TODD: Uh oh! SGDC’s been caught!

BAMA: The detective’s been nabbed! And the killer’s eager to strike!

DOUBLE A SPINERBUSTER!

Oz hooks the leg!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

Winner of Match #2: Mister Oz!

BAMA: And Oz is shooting two for two thus far!

TODD: Here we go! The end of the gauntlet… Oz has one opponent left!

…

TODD: Oh my! The Impossible Traveler! Betsy Granger!

BAMA: Oh my God! We might get to see some actual gah damn wrasslin’ on this wrasslin’ show!!

“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.

“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.

…

MISTER OZ
- vs -
BETSY GRANGER

Gauntlet Match #2 of 3

As the bell rings once more… Betsy spins once, salutes the crowd, then locks eyes with Oz.

Her smile softens.

Because she recognizes the fury simmering beneath his calm, she nods respectfully.

Oz does not nod back.

TODD: Oz seems to be locked in… He’s eager to finish this gauntlet looking like the dominant force he knows he is! But Betsy is almost certainly the toughest of his three opponents thus far!

Betsy bounces lightly on her toes, eyes bright with curiosity.

Oz steps forward, eager to grapple Betsy!

But Betsy grips under his arm, sidestepping out of reach before she snaps a sharp karate-style low kick into Oz’s thigh.

The crack echoes!

Oz’s jaw tightens. His leg flexes!

TODD: Deft quickness and calculated precision there from Betsy!

BAMA: All that did was piss Oz off!

Oz surges forward with an explosive burst looking for a crushing shoulder tackle meant to flatten her.

Betsy’s eyes widen — delighted, not afraid.

She pivots sideways and lands a crisp single-leg dropkick to his knee as he passes.

Oz drops briefly to one knee!

TODD: Smart targeting! She’s chopping down the base! Like a matador bringing down a bull, one charge at a time!

BAMA: She better keep movin’ or she’s getting GORED!

Oz rises slowly, nostrils flaring.

He lunges for a grapple… and grabs Granger’s wrist.

Betsy’s grin flickers into surprise.

TODD: Uh oh! Oz has Betsy in a wristlock now!

BAMA: Ozzy’s about to swat that astronaut into the stratosphere!

Betsy quickly circle-steps to keep Oz from grapple her into a sideheadlock…

Oz tries to yank her closer!

…But Betsy twists into a seamless armwringer, spinning under his arm and wrenching the wrist sharply.

Oz’s face tightens. He jerks his arm free, and breaks into another sprint, rebounding off the opposite ropes!

He fires a brutal big boot.

Betsy ducks under it and springs up—

Her eyes gleam mischievously.

She leaps for a…

PLANTE DE VISAGE!

TODD: Betsy looking for a sudden win!

Oz’s eyes flash.

…And he blocks mid-air and muscles her upward, slamming her down with a thunderous body slam.

The ring shakes!

Betsy gasps, blinking stars from her vision.

TODD: Oof! Oz proves just too strong!

Oz looms over a prone Betsy....

TODD: Betsy’s gotta make a move soon!

BAMA: Or Oz is gonna pick through her bones like a vulture!

Oz pulls the Impossible Traveler up to her feet!

Betsy winces, but her eyes sharpen.

Because she refuses to be another stepping stone, she suddenly fires a tight semi-circular kick into his ribs.

Oz grunts.

She follows with a quick reverse roundhouse kick to the jaw.

Oz staggers back two steps.

TODD: Betsy, changing together strikes here!

BAMA: But Oz is still standing!

Betsy exhales hard.

Oz goes for a HUGE lariat!

But Granger ducks under… and traps his arm…

She brings him down to the mat with a leg trip! And secures a tight bridging Fujiwara armbar, trapping his arm and arching her hips upward.

Oz’s eyes widen in pain.

His submission weakness is exposed.

Bama T: “That’s trouble! Oz don’t like gettin’ bent like that!”

Because panic threatens to surface, Oz powers his legs underneath him and brute-forces himself to his feet, lifting Betsy while still trapped.

Her eyes widen.

Because strength disparity is real, she releases and rolls free before he can slam her.

The two circle…

TODD: Both these competitors look like they’re eager to wrap this one up!

BAMA: Oz especially! This is his third match of the night!

Betsy fires off another kick to the chest!

…But Oz catches it! And spins Betsy! He takes Betsy from behind, waistlock…

GERMAN SUPLEX!

Granger crashes hard, neck against the mat!

Oz keeps the grip.

TODD: “He’s going for the Sextuple! Oz’s patented sextuple german suplex!

BAMA: It’s been a while since we’ve seen it! Betsy’s about to get ground into space dust!

Oz hauls her up again.

Oz arches back for the second German—

…But Betsy’s eyes snap open.

Granger wedges her foot behind his ankle and hooks his wrist mid-lift.

She spins inside his grip—

Her arm snakes around his neck.

Her other arm traps his wrist.

Oz’s eyes widen.

Betsy e locks in the Cobra Clutch.

And a With a sudden, fluid twist, she sweeps his leg and drops him backward in one violent motion!

DOWN!

YOU!

GO!

TODD: Down you go! From outta nowhere!

Oz slams flat on his back.

The wind blasts from him.

Betsy floats over instantly, hooking the leg, clutch still tight.

ONE!

Oz’s eyes flare with shock.

TWO!

His arm twitches.

THREE!

Winner: Betsy Granger!

The crowd erupts.

Betsy releases and rolls away, panting, then laughs breathlessly in disbelief.

TODD: A statement win for Betsy Granger! Oz looked in top form tonight, eager to shake off his showing last Anarchy, but Betsy Granger demonstrated tonight why she’s one of the most celebrated stars in the XWF!

https://youtu.be/wFodog4zZlY?feature=shared

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. He 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.

TODD: We’ve said it before and we’ll say it again, but XXXVI is creeping ever closer to eclipsing Matthias Syn’s record with the Revolution Championship.

BAMA: Hell yeah he is. You know, I didn’t think much of this guy when he first debuted, just another weirdo in a mask. But man was I wrong. XXXVI has been damn impressive.

TODD: Although tonight it could be said that he doesn’t exactly have a challenge commensurate with that impressiveness.

BAMA: Yeah, even I can’t polish this turd….

Bobby Sales steps out onto the ramp, wearing a headset and holding up a package of customized XWF ShamWOW towels.

BOBBY: Alright, alright, alright people of….uh…..this town. Hold onto your asses because I’m going to blow your minds with the unbridled soaking power of ShamWOW here tonight!

Bobby keeps walking until he gets into the ring. XXXVI cants his head as Bobby enters, perhaps in amusement. It’s tough to tell.

BOBBY: ShamWOW is more than just a simple towel. It tackles the very toughest of messes with ease. Dog shit on the floor? ShamWOW it! Baby barf on the new couch? ShamWOW it. Creepy foreigner in a mask bleeding all over your ring? ShamWOW it!

Bobby glowers at XXXVI as he utters this last line and the champ just shakes his head disdainfully as the bell rings. Bobby carefully places the package of ShamWOW’s on top of the corner turnbuckle, but XXXVI wastes no time! He rushes Bobby as he’s turned around and pulls him up and over into a german suplex.

TODD: This match starting about how we all expected it to I think!

BAMA: Bobby Sales has a huge hill to climb here.

Bobby skitters into the opposite corner and XXXVI approaches him and pulls back a fist menacingly. Bobby curls up in a defensive position instinctively which seems to draw a laugh from XXXVI.

BOBBY: Oh you think this is funny?

Bobby gets up defiantly.

BOBBY: I’m gonna bleed you like a stuck pig you….

But Bobby doesn’t even get to finish his thought. XXXVI pops him in the mouth before hitting him with a deep arm drag which he then transitions into a seated arm bar.

BOBBY: Ahhhh! OWOWOWOW! Stay with me….*grunts*....folks, even in this….OOOWWWWWW….predicament I am the king of sales!

TODD: I think XXXVI is getting sick of this guy already, he’s releasing the hold and going towards the edge of the ring where….uh oh…CIX hands XXXVI a chain in full view of the ref!

BAMA: Is that legal?!

The ref moves to intervene, ordering XXXVI to give up the chain, saying the match is First Blood and not Xtreme. Being the rational sort, XXXVI gives up the chain to the ref….but Bobby snatches it immediately, pushes the ref aside and decks XXXVI with the chain! The champ reels.

BAMA: Wait…is that….is that….blood?!

Indeed, there is a spatter of blood rolling out from under the champ’s mask. It impacts on the canvas, and Bobby books it for the package of ShamWOW’s he left before and opens up the package feverishly.

But XXXVI is not out! He grabs hold of Bobby’s hair and smashes his face into the turnbuckle, once, twice, thrice! But it still hasn’t drawn blood! Then, out of sheer frustration, XXXVI starts removing the pad on the turnbuckle. The ref tries to intervene but XXXVI points to the chain on the mat as if to say “fair is fair”. The ref shrugs and allows it! XXXVI finishes removing the turnbuckle pad, grabs Bobby and prepares to plunge his face into the steel exposed turnbuckle….but Bobby blocks! He hits XXXVI with a back elbow! Bobby turns around and throws a wild haymaker at the champ….but XXXVI blocks and lays into Bobby with a haymaker of his own! XXXVI then grabs hold of Bobby’s head and plunges his face into the exposed steel! A huge laceration opens up on Bobby’s forehead!

BAMA: Oh damn, thats grisly!

TODD: Bobby is bleeding all over the place!

XXXVI backs off as Bobby stumbles out of the corner.

BOBBY: Yes….that’s….uh….right…folks….if you call in the next…..*urp*....uhhhh….

Bobby starts looking woozy as the blood cascades down his face in a crimson mask.

BOBBY: What…what was I saying? Oh don’t worry….about me…issssjussssalittlescrape…..

XXXVI picks up the package of ShamWOWS and pulls one out. He looks at the amassing pool of blood and then decides to pull out a few more for good measure.

BOBBY: It’s….*gag*............not jussss a sham issss a shamWOW….why….why do I….feel so….sleepy….

That’s about when Bobby passes right out, going flat on his back. XXXVI looks at his downed opponent and then gets to work on the pool of blood from his opponent.

TODD: He’s cleaning Bama! And I have got to hand it to ShamWOW those things have some amazing absorbing power. Unbelievable.

BAMA: And I think….I think he’s done!

The ref inspects the canvas and, seeing it thoroughly cleaned by the undisputed king of shammy cloths, calls for the bell!

Your winner….by virtue of the pinnacle of modern cleaning technology…..XXXVI!

There it is. The first blood spills from the face of Bobby Sales.

The crowd roars in approval.

XXXVI calls to the referee for the XWF branded ShamWow. This one is over.

And then…

Darkness.

The arena lights cut out completely.

No sound except confused murmurs in the crowd and the shuffling of bodies in the ring.

Three seconds.

The lights snap back on.

XXXVI is standing where he was.

Bobby Sales is still bleeding profusely. His eyes glazed over from the head trauma.

The canvas splattered with sweat and wear. In the center of the ring, smeared almost ritualistically, in the fresh blood of Bobby Sales, is the number 33.

The numbers are large. Maybe 3 feet tall, and look like they were drawn with a limp body being dragged. The blood is wet, almost shining under the lights.

No one saw it happen.

The referee stares in disbelief.

The fans in the front rows are no longer cheering. They sit silent. A mix of horror and uneasy fascination on their faces. Some pointing, others with their hands over their mouths. Children simply staring, frozen.

TODD: What the hell is that, Bama?!? 33? What does that mean?!?

BAMA: Someone’s sending a numerical message to 36! Though, maybe it’s something that only Mister 36 can understand!

XXXVI looks down at the number…

As the feed cuts to commercial…

TODD: Folks, this next match is filled to the brim with talent!

BAMA: And that talent is contained in just two of the three competitors! Which says a lot about Page and Blade!

TODD: Now, now, Bama! Furry is coming off an incredible win last Anarchy over Mister Oz! And she’s technically undefeated, since she won her only other match, a 3-on-2 handicap where she, Peter Parkor and Micheal Graves (allegedly) beat Madison Dyson and Misty Waters…

BAMA: Two flukes! And we’re about to correct the score right here!

The Time is now hit's as he walks out on stage. “The Surgeon of Thug” John Blade talks to the cameraman and bounces a little. He holds up his “Never Give Up” logo flag and tosses it to the f-... wait, no fans over on that side. He just tossed it into the abyss. Regardless, he salutes and runs straight down towards the platform!

TODD: There he is! The “Surgeon of Thug”! The “Chain Gang”! John Blade!

BAMA: That Blade boy is an odd fella! Some loathe him! Some can’t get enough of him! But ya can’t deny, he’s a whiskey shot of personality and a phenom in the ring!

TODD: John Blade shocked the world on Warfare and defeated XWF Legend Barney Green AND recent Star of the Month Razor Blade to advance to the March Madness Quarterfinal! A huge accomplishment! But can he ride that wave tonight against Summer Page!

John 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[/align]

…

The lights dim as the opening drums of She's My Collar roll through the arena. Miss Furry steps out slowly, but doesn’t acknowledge the crowd.

TODD: Miss Furry! The original Student of Gravy! Certainly one of the least typical wrestlers on Anarchy!

BAMA: Some say she can’t wrestle! Some say she’s built like a couch potato who goes to the Planet Fitness twice a week, mostly on free pizza and free bagel days! Some say she doesn’t belong in the ring with trained professionals!

…

BAMA: And those people are correctamundo, Toddy!

TODD: Oh c’mon, Bama! Say what you will about Furry, but you can’t deny her record in the ring! Not only undefeated, but she scored an impressive victory over Mister Oz, known for being a physically dominant specimen! Furry’s never competed in a triple-threat match before, it will be interesting to see how she adapts to a new environment!

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.

…

All three opponents find a corner and stare each other down…

TODD: Triple-Threat. X-Treme Rules. No disqualifications, no countouts, and no safety net.

BAMA: And two of these three are thoroughbreds, Todd. The other one’s a mangy alley cat tryin’ not to get run over!

John Blade’s jaw tightens, nostrils flaring as he scans the ring with that unmistakable half-smirk — half confidence, half challenge. His shoulders roll back, chest puffed out, absorbing the roar of the divided crowd. The kids scream. The older fans boo. He thrives on it.

Across from him, Summer Page’s lips curl in disdain. Her chin lifts a fraction too high, eyes narrowing with clinical focus. She adjusts her wrist tape with slow precision — a queen annoyed she must share space with peasants.

Miss Furry stands between them, eyes flicking back and forth. Her breathing is steady, shoulders relaxed — but her pupils dart, calculating.

The bell CLANGS.

SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
MISS FURRY
- vs -
JOHN BLADE

X-TREME RULES TRIPLE THREAT!

HIGHLIGHT REEL

Blade’s smirk sharpens as he steps forward and throws his forearm up, inviting the lock-up.

Summer’s expression hardens, pride pricked by the gesture. She steps in immediately.

They collide.

Collar-and-elbow tie-up — and the sound of muscle against muscle echoes.

Blade’s teeth grit, veins bulging in his neck as he drives forward with raw power. His boots churn against the canvas as he muscles Summer backward toward the ropes.

Summer’s eyes flash irritation at being moved. Her lips purse with defiance as she pivots her hips, slipping her arm under his — transitioning smoothly into a snap wrist control.

Todd: “Technical counter from Summer!”
Bama T: “That girl ain’t just spoiled, she’s schooled.”

Blade’s face twists in surprise as she torques the joint — so he reacts with stubborn fury, yanking free and immediately exploding forward—

Running leaping shoulder block.

Summer’s eyes widen just before impact — her body folding backward violently as she hits the mat and rolls to her side, coughing.

The crowd erupts.

Blade spreads his arms wide, feeding on it — but his showboating grin falters when he notices Summer already pushing to a knee, jaw clenched, hair falling across her face.

She looks insulted.

Blade and Summer are circling in the center of the ring… With Furry shuffling around them.

TODD: Thus far, Blade and Summer have been entirely focused on each other!

BAMA: Lucky for Furry! The second they notice here, that housecat’s gonna get spayed and neutered by these two angry apex predators!

Suddenly, John and Summer lock-up!

Summer springs upward and drives a sharp High Knee into Blade’s jaw.

Blade’s head snaps back, sweat flying — and his confident grin disappears into a stunned scowl. He staggers back into the ropes…

And explodes forward! A big shoulder block takes Summer to the mat!

Miss Furry’s brow furrows.

She steps in cautiously, seeing an opening.

TODD: And Miss Furry is stepping up! She said she’d wait for her moment to strike!

Her lips press thin with determination as she darts in — arm drag into a grounded headlock on Summer.

Summer’s expression turns cold and irritated — almost offended — as she rolls her hips and kips partially upward, slipping behind Furry.

TODD: Uh oh! I think Furry overestimated her ability to keep Summer contained to the mat! She’s in no man’s land now!

BAMA: Anywhere within Summer’s reach is no man’s land for Miss Furry!

With a sharp inhale through her nose, Summer executes a Snap German Suplex.

Furry’s body whiplashes across the mat…

TODD: Good grief!

BAMA: That’s what happens when a street rat wanders into heavy traffic!

Furry’s fingers twitch. Her face tightens — not angry, not panicked — thinking…

TODD: Furry, in pain, but very visibly calculating her next move…

She rolls to her side…

Under the bottom rope…

And falls to the outside.

[blue]BAMA: Smartest thing she’s done all night.

Summer brushes hair from her face, eyes scanning. She studies Blade. Measures him.

Blade wipes his mouth, irritated that Summer’s still standing. He motions with his hand.

Summer’s lips curl again.

She charges.

Chick Kick—

Blade ducks.

He whirls—

Lou Thesz Press! Taking Summer to the mat!

He rains down rights and lefts.

Summer’s face tightens in fury beneath the blows. Her forearms rise defensively — but she shifts her hips.

She manages to grip Blade around the head… And judo throw him up and over her!

Blade somersaults! Spins around!

Jawbreaker from Summer!

Blade staggers back, clutching his mouth.

Summer pops up instantly.

Tilt-A-Whirl into a Russian Leg Sweep!

Both crash down.

Blade rolls through the impact, shaking his head in frustration.

Miss Furry sticks one leg under the ropes like she’s weighing dipping her toe back into the pool of competition.

But when Summer and Blade both spring up, she quickly pulls back out, circling the ring cautiously… eyes track her opponents like prey animals.

TODD: Furry contented to let this one play out for a while.

BAMA: Maybe she should get a chair and watch how actual wrestlers do it! Maybe pull out a notebook, take some notes!

Summer and Blade are caught in a collar-and-elbow tie-up, each jockeying for control…

Outside, Miss Furry’s eyes flick toward the steel steps… then the timekeeper’s area… then beneath the ring apron. Her lips purse thoughtfully.

TODD: I think Miss Furry has decided it’s time for this X-Treme Rules match to get X-TREME! we remind you — this is X-Treme Rules!

BAMA: Finally, Furry’s doing something useful around here!

Furry bends down, reaches under the apron, and slides a kendo stick under the bottom rope.

Inside the ring, Summer shoves Blade back against the ropes in a surprising burst of strength! She beckons Blade to come at her again focused… not noticing the kendo stick skidding across the canvas behind her.

Blade does.

His eyes widen slightly — then narrow with a predatory grin.

He feints going for another lockup… Summer goes to meet him!

But at the last moment, Blade somersaults under Summer’s grapple, and grabs the kendo stick!

Summer turns — her expression shifting from irritation… to realization.

Blade swings.

Summer’s eyes flash with urgency — she ducks.

FWSH!

The stick whistles over her head.

Blade adjusts, jaw tightening in annoyance.

He swings again.

Summer backpedals, boots scraping canvas, dodging left, then right, each near miss accompanied by the hiss of bamboo slicing air.

TODD: Summer narrowly avoiding those strikes!

BAMA: She keeps dancin’, but eventually that music’s gonna stop!

Blade snarls and steps in closer — this time there’s no space to evade.

CRACK!

The kendo stick smashes across Summer’s back.

Her mouth opens in a silent scream, spine arching violently as she collapses forward to her knees.

Outside the ring, Furry’s eyes sharpen — opportunity forming… she reaches under the apron again…

Inside, Blade advances, face twisted with ruthless confidence. He raises the kendo stick again and drives Summer backward into the corner.

She winces, clutching her back — trapped.

Blade pulls the stick back for another vicious strike—

But Summer’s expression changes.

Pain gives way to clarity.

She drops suddenly, rolling under his arm and slipping out of the corner.

Blade turns—

—and at that exact moment, Miss Furry slides a trash can lid into the ring.

Summer sees it.

Her eyes widen with sudden inspiration.

She snatches it up just as Blade squares up—

CLANG!

The lid crashes over Blade’s skull.

His body freezes… then collapses flat on his back.

The arena roars.

TODD: What a shot from Summer Page!

BAMA: He just got served a five-course meal of PAIN — with extra aluminum!

Blade and Summer both rise exhaustedly, surrounded by weapons…

BAMA: It’s been an X-Treme war thus far, Toddrick! Both Summer and Blade have been through it!

TODD: Furry has done a masterful job, the moment one of these two starts taking control, throwing another piece of chaos into the ring to keep control of the match in flux!

BAMA: But these two could have broken arms and legs and they could STILL outwrestle Miss Furry, Toddy baby! Eventually, one of them is gonna put the other down and Furry’s either gonna have to sit on her hands and watch or step up and get PUT DOWN!

Blade surges forward for another grapple…

But Summer BOOTS him in the stomach!

Blade doubles above…

Summer’s chest heaves. She stares down at Blade, eyes blazing with vindication.

Now.

She hooks his arms deliberately, expression icy and composed.

She lifts with precision…

Poise…

PURE PERFECTION! (PerfectPlex).

Blade’s shoulders slam flat.

TODD: She hit it! Summer hit Pure Perfection! That’s gonna do it!

Summer floats into the cover, hooking the leg tight.

ONE!

Outside the ring, Furry’s brow furrows.

TWO—

Her eyes dart to Blade’s boot near the ropes.

Decision made.

She lunges and grabs his ankle, subtly looping it around the bottom rope.

THR—

The referee stops.

TODD: Blade’s foot is on the rope!

Summer’s eyes snap open in disbelief. She looks at the rope — sees Blade’s foot draped there — and her face contorts with indignation.

She doesn’t see Furry already jogging around the far side of the ring.

Summer glares down at Blade…

TODD: I don’t think Summer realizes Blade needed some help getting that foot on the rope!

Summer drags Blade by the wrists back to the center, irritation fueling her strength.

Blade groans, barely conscious.

Summer steps through his legs.

Her face becomes serene.

Focused.

She turns.

PERFECT 10 (Figure 8 Leg Lock!)

She bridges high, back arched beautifully, torque maximized.

Blade’s face contorts in agony, veins bulging as he claws at the mat.

TODD: PERFECT 10! She’s got it locked in deep!

BAMA: That leg’s twisted like a pretzel at the county fair!

Outside, Miss Furry freezes.

Her eyes go wide.

Blade is trapped. His hands shaking…

Summer’s eyes are closed in concentration, back arched, savoring the torque.

That’s when Furry’s expression shifts.

Calm.

Certain.

Now.

She slides under the bottom rope silently and crawls toward them.

Blade sees her — panic flashes across his face. He tries to swat her away but can’t turn his hips without intensifying the pressure on his knee.

Furry throws herself across his chest… And she grabs Blade’s arms by the wrists so he can’t tap out!

The referee drops.

ONE!

Summer’s eyes flutter open.

Does she think that’s her pinfall?

TWO!

Blade’s hands seize, eager to tap o… But Miss Furry has his arms trapped!

He tries to rise out of the pin… but the Figure 8 has him immobilized.

Summer’s face flickers — confusion dawning.

THREE!

Winner: Miss Furry!

BAMA: MISS FURRY STOLE IT!

TODD: Furry HUNTED that victory! And against all odds, she takes the win!

Summer releases the hold instantly, raising her arms, thinking that must be her pinfall…

..Before the referee crosses his arms, showing there was no submission!

Blade rolls to his side, clutching his knee in agony.

Miss Furry scrambles backward, rolling outside the ring, briefly stunned…

Then realization hits.

Her hand shoots up in victory!

Sir Lionel is rolled down to the ring on a hospital gurney. He looks completely out of it.

Todd: I’m not sure Lionel knows where he is right now! That man should be at home recovering from the vicious injuries Mr. Oz inflicted upon him!

Bama T: It’s called ACTING, Todd! Lionel is just ACTING like he’s crippled and comatose: but that’s all it is….an act, to catch Micheal Graves off guard!

Todd: I’m not sure about the ethics of this one…

In one corner, a dented metal bucket spills over with dollar-store skull masks, smeared eyeliner sticks, a cracked hand mirror, green food coloring, a toy scythe, and what appears to be a rubber bat from a Halloween clearance bin.

In the opposite corner, another bucket—nearly identical—overflows with the same chaotic theatre detritus.

Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing sits propped upright on a hospital gurney, neck brace fastened, one arm theatrically limp at his side. His face is pale with exaggerated agony, jaw trembling as if he’s delivering a monologue to the cheap seats of the Globe Theatre.

Micheal Graves stands across the ring, pacing. His lips curl in disgust. His eyes roll so hard they nearly vanish under the black war paint.

At ringside, Gene Branagh dabs Lionel’s forehead with a monogrammed handkerchief, whispering encouragement like a stage manager before opening night.

TODD: Well folks… this is the ‘ALLEGING’ Micheal Graves Match… and I— I have to admit— isn’t this over the moment the bell rings? The referee can literally see which one is Micheal Graves.

BAMA: Todd, this is the dumbest stipulation I’ve ever seen and I once refereed a Possum-on-a-Pole match in Mobile, Alabama!

TODD: …How did that end up?

BAMA: Mobile, Alabama ended up with a rabies vaccine shortage, that’s how that ended up!

The referee signals for the bell.

DING!

HIGHLIGHT REEL

The official goes to point to Gr-

FWOOOSH!

The arena lights die.

Pitch black.

A collective gasp ripples through the crowd.

Three full seconds of silence.

Then—

The lights snap back on.

And there are two Micheal Graveses standing in the center of the ring.

Both in identical black gear. Identical smeared eyeliner. Identical greasy hair hanging over their faces. Identical Dark Warrior masks.

Both blink.

Both look around.

Both mouths hang open in confusion.

Their brows furrow in mirrored suspicion.

Slowly… deliberately… they both turn.

And lock eyes.

Simultaneously, they extend an accusatory finger.

“YOU!”

The crowd explodes.

TODD: What in the world—?!

Bama T: What the…?!? I’m seeing double! FOUR GRAVESES!

Both Graveses begin circling, shoulders hunched, lips twitching. One snarls. The other snarls harder. They mimic each other’s movements, like a demonic mirror.

TODD: Folks… I think we previously thought this one would be over quick but… Lionel Pennyfarthing might have a trick or two up his sleeve!

The Graves circle each other identically…

Suddenly both stop.

TODD: It’s genuinely like watch mirrored footage! Every single flick of his wrist… every single scowl! They’re both exactly Gravy!

One Graves suddenly claps. Slow. Sarcastic. His lips purse into a smug, self-satisfied grin.

He tilts his head, eyes narrowing with theatrical contempt.

Very cute. Very impressive.

With deliberate flair, he reaches up.

He rips off the Dark Warrior mask.

Underneath—

The unmistakable greasy, scumbag face of Micheal Graves.

The real one.

Dead-eyed stare. Crooked sneer. Smear of black across the cheekbone.

The official’s jaw drops.

He nods instinctively, already raising his hand to ‘allege’ a winner…

TODD: Well that settles it… Good show by Penyfarthing but…

But the other Graves erupts into frantic motion.

His eyes go wide.

His hands flail dramatically.

“WAIT! WAIT!”

He shakes his head violently, as if outraged at the injustice.

He grabs his own mask.

Pauses.

The arena holds its breath.

He rips it off.

The crowd SCREAMS.

It’s the same face.

Same greasy skin sheen.

Same blackened eyes.

Same crooked smirk.

Even the same faint scar under the left eyebrow.

The referee stumbles backward.

TODD: NO. No no no no—

BAMA: That’s him too! That’s Gravy! That’s the same nasty little sewer goblin!

Both Graveses blink.

Both slowly turn their heads toward the referee.

Both smirk.

Then both point at each other again.

“HE’S THE FAKE!

The official looks like a man who regrets every decision that led him here.

The two identical Micheal Graveses stand chest-to-chest.

One Graves’ upper lip curls into a furious sneer. His nostrils flare. His eyes twitch with offended pride — the look of a man whose identity has been stolen in front of a live audience.

His fingers flex.

His jaw tightens.

TODD: The referee is trying to decide which of these men to declare the real Micheal Graves…

BAMA: It’s like trying to choose between two identical pictures! They both even smell like Gravy! And yes, when you call a Gravy match, you can smell him all the way from the broadcast booth! The stench is UNFATHOMABLE!

Suddenly, Graves lunges forward — swinging a wild, reckless forearm smash aimed directly at the other Graves’ temple!

TODD: Whoa! Is that the real Gravy? He’s deciding to say ‘fuck it’ and just attack the other one!

The other Graves’ eyes widen, jerks sideways and answers with a savage open-handed slap across the face!

The crack echoes.

TODD: Oh my—!

BAMA: That’s a HEAVY HANDED— well, one of ‘em just slapped the taste outta the other!

TODD: Gravy is famous for his big right-handed smacks! THAT must be the real Gravy!

The first Graves reels, face twisting in humiliation and fury. He snarls, shaking his head like a rabid animal. He retaliates with a sudden thumb jab straight toward the eyes!

TODD: This is… well, despite the odd stipulation, this is still a wrestling match, folks!

The second Graves screams dramatically, staggering backward, clutching his face — but as he drops his hands, a sinister grin spreads across his lips.

His fingers curl mischievously.

With juvenile wickedness flashing in his eyes, he darts forward—

Wet willy.

Right in the ear.

The crowd erupts.

The victimized Graves freezes in horror.

His face contorts in disgust.

He slowly turns his head.

“Did you just—”

He tackles him.

No finesse. No structure. No wrestling holds.

Just feral flailing.

They crash to the mat in a heap of black gear and smeared eyeliner.

Punches fly.

Headbutts glance off foreheads.

One Graves claws at the other’s hair.

The other responds by shoving fingers into nostrils.

TODD: There are no rules against this! There’s no disqualification in this match!

BAMA Todd, you’re still trying to call this like a wrestling match, when it looks like two raccoons fightin’ over a Slim Jim!

The referee rushes in, arms extended, panic across his face.

“Gentlemen! Gentlemen!”

He tries to wedge himself between them.

That was a mistake.

Both Graveses glare up at him simultaneously — offended at the interruption.

In synchronized fury, they shove him aside.

But momentum carries them all together.

The three bodies tangle.

They roll.

Over and over.

Black boots flailing.

Hands clawing.

The referee yelping.

They tumble into the ropes and back toward center ring in a chaotic barrel roll of limbs.

Finally—

One Graves ends up mounted on top.

His face twisted into unhinged triumph.

His teeth bared.

His eyes blazing with the manic certainty of vindication.

He draws his fist back high over his shoulder.

Below him, the other Graves’ eyes flick frantically side to side.

Calculating.

Desperate.

As the fist comes crashing down—

The lower Graves suddenly grabs the referee’s collar.

YANKS him forward.

The mounted punch connects.

Not with his rival.

But squarely with the referee’s jaw.

CRACK.

The official’s body goes limp instantly.

He collapses sideways like a dropped mannequin.

Silence.

The two Graveses freeze.

They slowly look down at the unconscious referee.

Then slowly at each other.

TODD: The referee is out! He’s unconscious!

BAMA: Well that’s just perfect, Todd! The only man who can ‘allege’ anything is snorin’ on the canvas!

The crowd buzzes in disbelief.

The Graves take turns prodding the unconscious official with their toes, like curious kids encountering their first dead body.

TODD: I… what even happens now?

BAMA: It can’t get any dumber than what’s already happened…

Southern Gentleman Detective Clown emerges from the back!

BAMA: …I stand thoroughly corrected.

“Well I do declare!” Southern Gentleman Detective declares as he enters the ring, “TWO MICHEAL GRAVES’S!”

“Am I seeing double? Did my…” He waves his hands flamboyantly. “Mid-afternoon Garibaldi have a touch too much Campari?”

The Graves’ both look at the clown and back at each other.

“Or could there be… An imposter among us?”

TODD: Among Us! I get it.

“Well, this appears to be a case for the world’s greatest detective!”

A masked man stands up in the crowd as Southern Gentleman Detective Clown snaps a look at him.

“Not you, Batman!”

Batman sits down, dejected.

“Me! Southern Gentleman Detective Clown will solve this case quicker than Jenny Myst can lose a title!”

He studies each man deeply, both with identical breathing. Slight unhinged mannerisms. A dense odour. He paces around the ring, his white clown loafers honking southernly.

“One of you here is a fraud and I will deduce which one if the REAL Micheal Graves posthaste! As a matter of fact! Let’s make it a game! You all love games I’m sure!”

“First game.” SGD Clown puts a finger to his lips before pointing. “What’s in your pockets!”

Both Graves’s dig into their tights and pull out whatever is in them. The clown inspects them diligently.

“Hm. Intriguing. You, Left Graves, appear to have a stick of gum and a theatre stub from 1977, a classic Lionel thing to do. But you, Right Graves seem to have the puzzle box from Hellraiser! Quite the conundrum.”

“Second game!”

“Name your one weakness!”

“NONE!”
“MYSELF!”

They say at the same time. SGD Clown nods along.

“Interesting… One seems to be from an actual belief, one from studying endlessly! Curioser and curiouser.”

“Last game.”

He looks closely at each man and clears his throat.

“At the world’s stage-”

And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages- … Oh…

The detective nods with a smirk.

“No thespian could ever resist the words of Olde English Poet Clown. I have cracked the case! In fact! I knew it from the start, when you showed your hands after putting them in your pockets!”

“The REAL Micheal Graves’ hands were as wet as toad in a sauna! So let’s find out who is really under this mask!”

SDG Clown pulls the mask of the imposter exposing none other than- THE AUDIENCE GASPS!

TODD: *gasp* Old Man Pennyfarthing!?

Winner - Micheal Graves

“And I would have gotten away with it too, if it wasn’t for you meddling Space Clowns!”

“What did I do?” Replies a clown in an astronaut outfit.

A chorus of boos reigns down as the world's richest man, Elon Musk, rides on his segway down to the ring, his nose stuck firmly in the air as he does. An army of aids and staff, including GM Dick Lichter, walks out from behind the curtain, but are left in a trail of dust as Elon quickly makes his way to the ring. He walks up the steel steps and looks at the ring. He looks back at his staff, who quickly pick up the pace, and two interns jump onto the apron and hold the ring ropes open for him. He gently steps into the ring as the boos continue. The rest of his army of aids step in with him and one hands him a mic. He does to speak, but the Canadian crowd drowns him out with boos.

BAMA: Now this is just disrespectful. This is the boss, baby!

TODD: Elon Musk, famously not a fan of Canada, and they are showing him that the feeling is mutual.

MUSK: You know, it's behavior like this that confirms that the United States should make you a state. You obviously can't govern yourselves.

The crowd boo's loudly again as an "Asshole! Asshole" chant begins.

TODD: Canada going old school with that one.

BAMA: Canada proving why Mr. Musk is right.

MUSK: Now lets get this over with because I don't want to be in this place for longer than I have to be. As you all may know, in two weeks, we will be having a very special episode of Anarchy - a 25th Anniversary celebration for Centurion in New Jersey. I'm pleased to announce that that show is officially SOLD OUT! We're going to give that crowd a show they deserve - MUCH better than the show we're putting on for these unruly thugs in Canada.

The crowd showers Musk with boo's once again, and some fans even begin tossing cups towards the ring, though Musk's team of security and staff are able to shield him from anything.

MUSK: And the main event will feature the hometown man himself, the Television Champion, Centurion, taking on an absolute LEGEND in this business! A man...I am here to honor tonight.

Still more boos, but a lot more muted this time.

MUSK: I am a fair man. I believe in giving the people what they want. The people of Atlantic City wanted to celebrate Centurion's career, and by gosh, I'm going to give them that opportunity; however, TRUE American fans - REAL fans of professional wrestling, want nothing more than to see Centurion lying in a puddle of his own blood in front of his hometown crowd. And the man who is going to do that...is here tonight. He is a man who won NINE World Championships across many companies during an illustrious, Hall of Fame career. He is the MASTER of the Adina Lock, one of the most skilled technicians on the planet, and someone whom I hope to, one day...consider my friend. Ladies and gentlemen, my guest of honor, "GODLY" KEN DAVISON!

Musk points up the ramp way with a smile, but no music plays. Nothing appears on the tron. Nothing happens. Musk nervously laughs as he looks over at Lichter.

Musk: What's going on?

"Hey! Jackass!"

The tron finally does come to life, but instead of Ken Davison, it reveals Centurion, standing outside in the snow, wearing a large winter coat. The crowd goes up in a huge roar as Centurion speaks.

Centurion: I'm sorry, but I don't think Ken got your invitation. See, he has better things to do than to be showing up on wrestling shows and kissing your ass, knowing full well you'll just discard him the moment you think he's no longer valuable to you. So really, you banned me from the building for absolutely no reason; however, I don't mind. It gets me an opportunity to enjoy the cool, brisk Canadian weather. Oh, and I also got to meet someone really cool.

Centurion walks over a few steps to a man also wearing a winter coat. He is wearing a name tag that says "Hello, My Name Is Guðrún Guðmundsdóttir."

Centurion: This is my new friend...

Centurion glances down at the name.

Centurion: ...nope, not trying that. He is a visitor here in Canada. Came all the way from Iceland just to watch some professional wrestling, and YOU, Elon, decided to keep his favorite wrestler from being in the building tonight. So, I wanted to take old...Gunner...here for a ride. Give him an opportunity to really take in the Halifax experience. Oh...and we borrowed your car.

The two walks a few more feet and the camera pans out to see Musk's white Tesla sitting in a small crevice between two rock faces. Elon's face now turns to rage as he points to the screen and screams indiscriminately at his staff.

Centurion: It's really weird, because you own a GIANT fleet of Tesla's, and yet you decide to ride in an older model. Weird. It's almost like you don't trust the people of Canada SO MUCH that you're not willing to put a Cybertruck in harms way. That's sad...though I guess, given the current circumstances, I guess you were right to do so. Gun...dum, tell Elon about the car.

Guðrún, speaking in a very thick accent, begins to speak.

Guðrún: Yeah, so uh, this is older model, not too good in snow. We take car for trip and we think maybe battery get wet? We started smelling some kind of gas from the car. Is...not good.

Centurion: And while I could very easily just drive this thing to a shop, it turns out, you've made all this technology so proprietary that simple, local shops aren't able to handle these things, not to mention the digital locks you place on the equipment that make it so local vendors have to pay a MASSIVE fee just to diagnose the thing. So...we've decided to just...leave it out here. But, we're not one for littering, are we, Gunnery? So what did we do.

Guðrún: We decide to put 30 kilogram of explosive around the car, with many blasting cap inside. The blasting cap break the windows, and the large explosive make giant bang. 40% more efficient than dynamite.

Musk: HEY! DON'T YOU DARE! I'LL SEE YOU THROWN IN JAIL IF YOU DO THAT!

Centurion: Sorry Musky, I didn't catch a word of that, it's really windy out here. I'm going to just assume to say some stupid shit, to which my response is...Viola!

The crowd roars as Elon stands in shock!

BAMA: NO! That's a $75,000 Tesla!

TODD: It was!

Centurion: WOAH BOY that was a big one! You could feel that blast from Saskatoon! Anyway, me and Gunther here are going to go catch a ride to the bars now. I hope you can make it out, Elon! Tell you what, I'll call you an Uber. Ta ta!

The feed cuts and Elon grabs Lichter by the collar and starts screaming "DO SOMETHING!" to him.

TODD: What an explosive message by Centurion to one of the bosses of the company.

BAMA: Too soon, Todd! Too soon!

All 3 men and 3 clowns stand in the ring, except Ennui Clown who is face down on the mat.

Gallows land on one side of the ring, delicious cream pies on the other.

BAMA: I see you eyeing up them pies, baby!

TODD: I skipped lunch!

BAMA: Yeah skipped it straight to dinner! HA!

The ref looks between all the competitors.

BAMA: Gotta say, Todd, is this the weirdest Anarchy main event you’ve ever seen?

TODD: Anarchy? Yeah, maybe. Around 10 years ago? … Sadly the norm.

DING! DING! DING!

The moment the bell rings, the Kingsguard all dive for the clowns!

The one going after Schadenfreude Clown, Kingsguard #7, trips on a banana peel!

”Jaaaaaa, how foolish you look, how embarrassing!”

TODD: You know I’ve heard Schadenfreude Clown actually draws strength from human humiliation like Superman draws strength from Earth’s yellow sun.

BAMA: …Toddrick, can I ask who told you that?

TODD: …Schadenfreude Clown?

BAMA: And do you think he told you that because he knew how stupid you’d look saying it into a microphone?

TODD: …

Kingsguard #9 meanwhile goes to force Enigmatic Clown into a grapple…

But Enigmatic Clown hands him… a typewriter?

TODD: …What?

Kingsguard #9 looks down at it, while Enigmagic Clown hands him a cypher and a coded message…

Kingsguard #9 scratches his head… what? Enigmatic Clown starts clapping at him, ordering him to get to it!

Kingsguard #9… perplexed, but he begins deciphering the message character by character…

Meanwhile, meanwhile, Kingsguard #8 approaches Ennui Clown… who is lying facedown on the mat…

TODD: Oh my! His two clown partners are fending off their kingsguard counterparts, but Ennui Clown looks like a sitting duck out here…

Kingsguard #8 looms…

Ennui Clown lets out a defeated exhale…

…

Kingsguard #8!

…

Sits down next to Ennui Clown… And they stare wistfully forward…

BAMA: …Todd, what the H-E-double-FUCK is going around here?

TODD: Um… well, it’s important to remember the Kingsguard had a near-death experience leading up to this match… It’s possible that… a thing like that makes you question… what all this is even for? What are they doing with their lives?

…

TODD: What am I doing with my life?

BAMA: Todd, stop looking at Ennui Clown for a second, he’s like a vacuum of depression.

Kingsguard #7 forces himself back up right… And comes face to face with Schadenfreude Clown!

Kingsguard #7 reels back his fist, looking for a forearm smash…

But as he winds back, he knocks over…

An urn containing his grandmother’s ashes, precariously perched on the top turnbuckle!

TODD: An urn containing his grandmother’s ashes? How did that even get there?!?

BAMA: Nana #7’s always with Kingsguard #7… Oh this would break her heart!

”Ohhhhhh, your nah-nah hast fallen to che ground! How absolutely trah-gic!”

Schadenfreude Clown chortles with delight… Kingsguard #7 rushes to scoop Nana #7’s ashes into his hands and find some place to contain them temporarily… Schadenfreude Clown has a clear road to a pie! …But he waves it off, delighting in tormenting this poor fool!

TODD: Not 100% sure the Clowns want to win this match!

BAMA: Clowns aren’t like me and you, Toddrick! Their only aim is to wreak chaos upon decent people! Vote YES on Proposition 117 and make clowns ILLEGAL!

Mean-to-the-while, Kingsguard #9 finally finishes decoding Enigmatic Clown’s cypher…

He squints at the message… He turns it over in his hands…

It’s…

Lines to a play?

Enigmatic Clown claps at him from outside the ring! Where he’s set up a makeshift stage!

“Have you even memorized your lines yet?!?”

Kingsguard #9 looks down… As clown hands surge from the sides, adorning his golden armor…

With long golden locks and a trident, looking like Brunhilda from Der Ring des Nibelungen...

Kingsguard #9, absolutely lost, shuffles over to the stage and begins singing a shockingly beautiful aria… with Enigmatic Clown conducting a symphony to perfection!

TODD: …What the hell is Enigmatic Clown’s deal even, Bama?

BAMA: It remains an enigma, Toddy baby!

Whilst meaning while, Kingsguard #8 and Ennui Clown are sitting, lying back on the mat, staring at the rafters…

”Do you ever think about what happens when we die?”

”On my planet, when you die, your remains get shoved into a big egg and a few minutes later, the egg dings and a baby clown pops out.”

”...Whoa. So… is the dead clown reincarnated into a baby clown? Is it the same clown?”

”...I don’t know. Babies can’t talk so we can’t ask them. And by the time they grow up, they don’t remember.”

TODD: I once had a goldfish named Barney. My mom told me he ran away… Do you think he went into a big egg and became a younger fish, Bama?

BAMA: Camera team, I will pay you good American money to not cut back to those two for the rest of the match.

Elihwnaem (which is meanwhile backwards), Kingsguard #7 has finished scooping Nana #7’s ashes into a plastic bag…

He puts it in his pocket for safekeepi-

…A tearing sound!

Oh no! The plastic bag got caught on his car keys!

”Oh nooooooooo, ze con-tay-nah you used to con-tay-uhn your nah-nah has been torn a-sun-dah… Oh nooooooooo!”

Schadenfreude Clown is absolutely beside himself with delight!

TODD: I hate Schadenfreude Clown’s shit-eating grin.

BAMA: Careful, Todd! If you anger that clown, he’s gonna find a way to make you eat actual shit and then laugh about it!

Schadenfreude Clown laughs wholeheartedly standing over Kingsguard #7…

Kingsguard #7… seethes furiously… he reaches into his pocket…

And hucks a cloud of dear nana into Schadenfreude’s eyes!

But he tanks it! Small windshield wipers dropping down from his brow and swiping the ashes away!

“Vow! You actually threw your nah-nah at me? Dat iz disrespectful, no?”

#7 tightens his fists and roars in anger.

“I’m sick of these fucking clowns!” He looks behind himself, “#8 can you do SOMETHING!?”

Kingsguard #8 looks down at him atop a paper mache mountain wielding a shield and spear. “I’m busy, #7! If I don’t nail my part I’m going to lose my role to Understudy Clown and Romantic Interest Clown will NEVER go out with me!”

Enigmatic Clown paces around #8 whilst wearing the tightest black t-shirt known to clownkind and keeps clapping. “Not my tempo!” He lets out before hurling a cymbal at Kingsguard #8’s head which clatters wildly into the crowd.

Schadenfruede Clown doubles over laughing at this as Kingsguard #7 looks over to Kingsguard #9 who is smoking a cigarette beside Ennui Clown.

“It’s fucked man! This guy just won’t leave us alone! He’s got super powers or something, I’m scared for my life most days!”

#9 takes a long drag of the cigarette.

“Wow… That sucks…You ever think about quitting?”

“A little, but it’s good pay and I travel a lot which is nice. Plus, dental!”

TODD: I don’t get dental… Man, I eat a lot of sugar too and my teeth are gonna crumble. Plus I’m fat!

Bama hurls a bunch of Xbux at the cameraman.

BAMA: FOCUS ON SOMEONE ELSE!

Kingsguard #7 is stunned before he looks up at Schadenfruede Clown.

“What the fuck is happening!? You’re not even trying to win! Your pies are untouched! Do you want us to suffer?”

Schadenfreude Clown smiles widely, “Vat do you think?”

Kingsguard #7 sneers under his golden helmet and in a fit of rage throws a punch into the clown’s groin!

Schadenfreude doubles over in pain and drops to the mat!

“OH! MEIN WEISSWURST!”

Kingsguard #7 hops up in joy!

“HA! Not funny when you’re the one suffering is it!?”

“Nein! Zat’s like ze whole point. Uggghghghg!”

“Guys!” #7 turns around to his teammates, “I know their weakness! Punch them really hard in the dick!”

Kingsguard #8 looks up as light jazz plays around him, stuck in an artsy black and white French film with Enigmatic Clown beside him, both sipping coffee.

#8 hurls the coffee in the clown’s face and punches down into his groin but Enigmatic Clown simply crosses his legs and hides the pain. Acting real nonchalant and not like he’s hurting at all. We go to a close up of his face, still in black and white and he whispers “Le Mort.”

Kingsguard #8 rips off his beret and joins #7.

At the same time, Kingsguard #9 hears what #7 yelled and looks down at Ennui Clown who sighs deeply.

“Sigh… It’s fine… Go ahead.

Ennui slowly rolls over to his back.

“It’s been nice talking, sorry, man.”

And #9 wallops him in the sad sack.

Actually finally in control of the match, The Kingsguard throw military hand signs and organise themselves to grab the ropes and lasso the nooses over the clowns necks!

They begin simultaneously pulling them up to the rafters!

TODD: Jesus, this is brutal.

BAMA: It’s certainly not funny!

CLOWN: BY CLOWN GAWD! BY CLOWN GAWD! WILL SOMEBODY STOP THE DAMN MATCH!

TODD: What the fuck?

In between Todd and Bama sits a clown in a cowboy hat and tiny glasses.

BAMA: Who’s this clown?

CLOWN: I’m Good Ol’ Play-by-Play Clown! And I’m here to call out THIS TRAVESTY OF A MATCH![/blue]

The sound of a gavel honking down echoes throughout the arena, and the ring is replaced with… A court room?

Kingsguards #7, #8 & #9 sit at a defendant’s table next to a clown in a suit who is sorting his papers.

“All rise!” Bailiff Clown calls out, “For the Honorable Judge Clown!”

The room stands, The Kingsguard look around and hesitantly joins them as a large clown in a rainbow powdered wig makes his way to the bench and takes a seat.

“You may be seated.”

Everyone sits down, the sound of a hundred whoopie cushions fills the room.

“Prosecution, you have the floor.”

The lawyer beside Schadenfruede Clown, Ennui Clown and Enigmatic Clown puts the floor back down and fixes his bolo tie, each end makes the sound of a slide whistle when he adjusts it.

“Ladies and germs of the clown jury, now I may be just a Simple Country Lawyer Clown but I know an injustice when I see it! These three gentleclowns y’all see before you simply walked into a wrestling match on a foreign planet and were going to be hung!”

“AYO!” Says Presumed Innuendo Clown from the back.

"Did they deserve this treatment? I think not. In FACT-”

As Simple Country Lawyer Clown waffles on, The Kingsguard turn to their lawyer.

“Hey, what the hell is going on?”

“You’re on trial for attempted clownicide.” The lawyer responds plainly.

“It was part of a match!”

“Yeah! They knew what they were getting into! I bet we weren’t actually going to lynch them!”

“Ha!” The lawyer shakes his head, “Oh if I had a Clown Dollar for every time I heard that line!”

Kingsguard #9 looks over at the prosecution. “... Ennui Clown looks sad.”

“#9 will you get your shit together! We could be in serious trouble” #7 whisper shouts.

“Yeah, lawyer guy, you’re going to get us off right?”

“AYO!” Presumed Innuendo Clown shouts.

“Guys, don’t worry, I’m handsome and charismatic and the best lawyer slash businessman this Clown City has ever seen, I’m Early 2000s RomCom Antagonist Clown! I never lose!” He chuckles, “Unless of course my abused fiance barges in with that loser friend of hers and dumps me on the spot to be with him but the chances of that happening are slim to-”

Suddenly the court room doors barge open and Early 2000s RomCom Antagonist Clown’s abused fiance rushes in.

“Early 2000s RomCom Antagonist Clown! We’re done!” She takes off her ring and throws it at him. “Me and Male Protagonist but Not Leading Man Type Clown are going to Clown Vegas! And there’s nothing you can do to stop us!”

Both her and that guy kiss passionately as a slow clap starts, most likely from Slow Clap Clown and the room breaks out into applause. Kingsguard #7 stops #9 from clapping along.

“And with THAT! Your honor, I rest my case!” Simple Country Lawyer Clown states before he sits back down.

“Very good, Simple Country Lawyer Clown, that was both heartful and informative, truly the best opening statement I’ve heard in years. And the fact that you rested your case is very ballsy! Defense, your rebuttal or whatever?”

We cut quickly to the defendant table and Early 2000s RomCom Antagonist Clown has hung himself, his feet slowly swaying.

“Holy shit!” #8 lets out in shock.

“DIBS!” Calls Dibs Clown, “I call Dibs on being the new Early 2000s RomCom Antagonist Clown!”

“HEY! GET IN LINE, BUDDY!” Hollers Get In Line Clown pointing back to a line of clowns in line for shouting who is in line.

“GOT ONE DIBS ONE DIBS” Shouts Auctioneer Clown atop a podium, “GOING ONCE ONEADIB DIB TWO! TWO DIBS FOR THE DEAD CLOWN NAME! DO I HERE THREETHRRETHTRHEEE THREE DIBS YABAB-” This descends into nonsense as a clown bidding war has broken out.

“This is hell, we’re in hell. We died on that plane or in that convoy and went to hell.”

“Well, with no defense I suppose I’ll have to send you boys into clown prison for life!”

The judge goes to bang his gavel.

DING! DING! DING!

The judge looks at his gavel in confusion.

“That’s not the usual sound it makes.”

“We finished.” Ennui Clown sighs, cream around his mouth. “We ate the pies.”

“Oh… Well then… Court adjourned!"

HONK! HONK!

The court vanishes and all 6 men return to the ring.

The clowns' bellies were full and The Kingsguard’s mental states shook to their core.

WINNERS - CLOWNS R’ US

[/color]

BAMA: … What the fuck?

CLOWN: THEY DID IT! THEY ACTUALLY DID IT! AS CLOWN GAWD AS MY WITNESS! THE EGGHOOD DREAMS HAVE COME TRUE FOR CLOWNS R’ US!

Thanks to all of our great match writers!

Schadenfreude Clown
Ennui Clown
Kristoffer "Vamp Clown" Arroyo

And our fantastic segment writers!

Matthias Syn
Old Man Centurion

And to everyone who RPed!

]]>

XWF Anarchy
[Image: vuE1ZV0.png]

2 - 26 - 2026

LIVE FROM SCOTIABANK ARENA!

TORONTO, CANADA

XXXVI ©
- vs -
BOBBY SALES

SHAMWOW CHALLENGE!

It's like a first blood match, but you can only win by cleaning up your opponent's blood with an XWF-branded ShamWow!

SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
MISS FURRY
- vs -
JOHN BLADE

X-TREME RULES TRIPLE THREAT!

EARLIER TODAY

MISTER OZ
- vs -
BIG PREESH

Gauntlet Match #1 of 3

Winner of Match #1: Mister Oz!

MISTER OZ
- vs -
SOUTHERN GENTLEMAN DETECTIVE CLOWN

Gauntlet Match #2 of 3

You should beat Oz

SGDC gasps! What a concept!

Winner of Match #2: Mister Oz!

BAMA: And Oz is shooting two for two thus far!

TODD: Here we go! The end of the gauntlet… Oz has one opponent left!

…

MISTER OZ
- vs -
BETSY GRANGER

Gauntlet Match #2 of 3

Winner: Betsy Granger!

Your winner….by virtue of the pinnacle of modern cleaning technology…..XXXVI!

The Time is now hit's as he walks out on stage. “The Surgeon of Thug” John Blade talks to the cameraman and bounces a little. He holds up his “Never Give Up” logo flag and tosses it to the f-... wait, no fans over on that side. He just tossed it into the abyss. Regardless, he salutes and runs straight down towards the platform!

TODD: There he is! The “Surgeon of Thug”! The “Chain Gang”! John Blade!

BAMA: That Blade boy is an odd fella! Some loathe him! Some can’t get enough of him! But ya can’t deny, he’s a whiskey shot of personality and a phenom in the ring!

TODD: John Blade shocked the world on Warfare and defeated XWF Legend Barney Green AND recent Star of the Month Razor Blade to advance to the March Madness Quarterfinal! A huge accomplishment! But can he ride that wave tonight against Summer Page!

John 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[/align]

…

SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
MISS FURRY
- vs -
JOHN BLADE

X-TREME RULES TRIPLE THREAT!

HIGHLIGHT REEL

Winner: Miss Furry!

HIGHLIGHT REEL

Winner - Micheal Graves

“And I would have gotten away with it too, if it wasn’t for you meddling Space Clowns!”

“What did I do?” Replies a clown in an astronaut outfit.

WINNERS - CLOWNS R’ US

[/color]

BAMA: … What the fuck?

CLOWN: THEY DID IT! THEY ACTUALLY DID IT! AS CLOWN GAWD AS MY WITNESS! THE EGGHOOD DREAMS HAVE COME TRUE FOR CLOWNS R’ US!

]]> <![CDATA[ANARCHY 02-12-2026]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=49778 Fri, 13 Feb 2026 04:24:10 -0800 Atticus Gold]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=49778

XWF Anarchy
[Image: vuE1ZV0.png]

2 - 12 - 2026

LIVE FROM SHERI'S RANCH!

PAHRUMP, NEVADA

SIR LIONEL PENNYFARTHING
- vs -
MR. OZ

SINGLES MATCH!

MR. OZ
- vs -
SCHADENFREUDE CLOWN

SINGLES MATCH!

MR. OZ
- vs -
MISS FURY

SINGLES MATCH!

BETSY GRANGER
- vs -
ENNUI CLOWN

MUSICAL STEEL CHAIRS!
Each competitor must have a musical element in their RPs in some shape or form
The ring will be surrounded by several chairs but only ONE is steel
Competitors must find the real steel chair and hit their opponent with it to win

CENTURION
- vs -
BOBBY SALES

OVER THE TOP ROPE MATCH!

ABEL GRACIE
- vs -
XXXVI ©

X-TREME RULEZ!

EL LANDERSON & LATOYA HIXX
- vs -
KRISTOFFER ARROYO & MICHEAL GRAVES ©

TORNADO TAG-TEAM ELIMINATION MATCH!

IF GRAVES IS PINNED, HE LOSES THE ANARCHY CHAMPIONSHIP!

1 RP per team @ 2,000 words

Resort at Sheri’s Ranch

A group of buxom, voluptuous women are standing in front of Sheri’s Ranch protesting!

They’re raising signs that say…

Come together and we’ll cum together!

United we bargain, Divided we beg (and not in a sexy way!)

Workers of the World! …Hey handsome Wink

!

Outside, pulling up in a stretch Tesla limousine that stretches so far it actually have a curve back where the block starts!

It actually runs on the same tech as the game Snake, the driver turns the wheel and the vehicle can turn in the middle!

The chauffeur opens the door and from the inside, emerges…

THE TRILLIONAIRES!

”Elon Musk!”

”Jeff Bezos!”

”And the motha-effin’ ZUCK, yo!”

After making their typical entrance to the arena where they all announce their own names, as they often do, they look about the scene!

…Zuck bites his lip as he nods at a protesting prostitute proselytizing the cause of pro-progressive unionizing!

”Ey girl! You ever had a train run on you!”

Her eyes widen, offended!

”Cuz I always bring my train set to the bedroom! Most of my foreplay involves setting up a track! And I always wear a conductor’s hat!”

Zuck elbows Bezos with a wink.

”Ladies luv a man in a conductor’s hat…”

…The prostitute goes from embarrassed at Zuck’s awkward attempt at flirtation to simply ignoring him… As The Trillionaires slowly approach the entrance, another prostitute winks at Bezos…

”Hey sweetie! You wanna get down with the cause? Or maybe go down on the cause?” She winks.

Bezos turns his head, calm but… with his eyes somewhat intrigued!

”Ah. Flirtation.” He nods in a way that is… almost human. ”Say, do you know your arm thickness in inches?”

”...Huh?”

”Mmm. Eyeballing it, you’d probably need… 45 minutes.”

”Oh, honey, it won’t take that long… We’ll have a good time.” She licks her lips.

”That’s how long it would take to slow-cook… Any faster and you’d dry up.”

…

Bezos winks back.

…The prostitute runs home to change her name and will never buy another Amazon product again.

”And now, someone hit on me!” Elon eagerly awaits a prostitute to engage with him.

…

”I love spreading my seed!”

…

”If we conceive, I’ll send you living expenses! …For an amount of time!”

…

”...No?”

…

”Bitches.” Elon scoffs. ”Andrew Tate was right.”

The Trillionaires enter the Resort, met by…

[Image: chuck-lee.webp]

”Ah, You fellas are the Trillionaires! Please to meetcha! I’m the owner of this fine establishment!”

”Oh!” Elon eyes this white-haired old man up and down… ”I thought Sheri would be more…” Elon purses his lips, before turning to his fellow Trillionaires. ”How do I put this delicately…?”

”Got dem tig ol’ bitties?”

Elon taps his nose. ”Well put.”

”...I’m not Sheri. There is no Sheri at Sheri’s Ranch. I’m Chuck Lee, the owner of this place.”

Chuck Lee exhales.

”At least, I’m s’posed to be the owner… Them damn prostitutes are unionizing! Trying to make me pay a fair wage!”

Bezos’s face twists with disgust. ”Paying your employees? Ugh, that’s disgusting…”

Bezos sticks his thumbnail in between his teeth and pulls out a small human bone. He flicks it away.

”Fellas! Trillionaire huddle!”

Musk, Bezos, and the Zuck huddle up.

”Our fellow job creator here needs our help! You know what that means!”

”We make a deal, fleece him, and turn an exorbitant profit!”

”Zactly.”

The Trillionaires all rotate back towards Mister Lee.

”Pal! It sounds like your problem is your workforce!”

“Too human!”

Elon wraps his arm around Chuck’s shoulder as the two other trillionaires flank him… They stroll deeper into the ranch.

”Tell me… What do you know of…”

“Artificial intelligence…”

”Alright!” Elon, Jeff and The Zuck are walking Chuck Lee, owner of Sheri’s Ranch, up to a curtain… He’s blindfolded. ”After three hours and an angel investment from your ranch of an undisclosed amount… We Trillionaires have put our heads together and come up with the solution to your workforce problem!”

”The future of prostitution!”

”Muthafuckin’ tizzight!”

”BEHOLD!” Elon pulls a lever and the curtains open!

…

……

”Chuck, be impressed! We spent 750 MILLION dollars on this!”

”...Mister Musk, I’m still blindfolded.”

…

”Oh.” Elon pulls a smaller lever and the blindfold in front of Chuck’s eyes open.

[Image: tumblr_lsgwfgreft1qh2tf9o1_500.gif]

[Image: tumblr_lsgwfgreft1qh2tf9o1_500.gif]

Two large very boxy robots hump wildly in the air on the stage.

SEX ROBOT SEX ROBOT

SEX ROBOT SEX ROBOT

SEX ROBOT SEX ROBOT

SEX ROBOT SEX ROBOT

…

”...What the fuck is this?”

”Robots you fuck, yo!”

”The perfect prostitute! It never needs a break, its joints are replaceable! (for a modest maintenance fee)!”

”It ain’t even got TITS!”

Chuck Lee eyes the robots’ crotch areas.

”THEY AIN’T EVEN GOT GENITALS! THEY’RE FLAT AS GODDAMN BARBIE DOLLS!”

”They’re hardy! Their bodies are built to survive even the roughest intimacy!”

Elon picks up a metal ball!

”Watch this!”

Elon winds up the ball at the two sex robots, humping the air

HE HUCKS IT!

SEX ROBOT SEX ROBOT

SEX ROBOT SEX ROBOT

SEX ROBOT SEX ROBOT

SEX RO-

WHAM! It catches the yellow Sex Robot in the eye… Its light blink and it collapses to the ground…

…

”...Hmm. That… Well, it’ll survive *most* intimacy I’m into…”

”...Wait, do you throw metal balls at human woman?”

”Look, this isn’t about what I’m into!” Elon gestures at the remaining sex robot. ”This is what America is into!”

SEX ROBOT SEX ROBOT

…

”...Fellas, I ain’t paying a dime for that bottom tier Sex Robot.”

…

The Trillionaires huddle up.

Whispering and murmuring…

…

They turn back around.

”Ok, Mister Lee. Tell you what.”

”We’ll call off our deal and refund your money… If you spend ten minutes with the Sex Robot and aren’t completely satisfied!”

TEN MINUTES LATER

SEX ROBOT SEX ROBOT

SEX ROBOT SEX ROBOT

We hear the mechanical grinding of the Sex Robot’s hips through the bedroom door…

The Trillionaires all listen attentively, holding cups to listen…

”I think it’s going well!”

”I agree! Lots of breathing! And exclamations like Oh God!”

”That Robot be fuckin’ like a porn star, yo!”

”Yes. Those hydraulic powered hips worked to perfection!”

…Smoke is billowing from under the door…

Elon claps his hands.

”Ah! A post-sex cigarette! Zuck! Open the door and we’ll collect his five-star review!”

Zuck opens the door, peering inside.

…

And closes the door.

”...He dead, yo.”

”...What?!?”

Elon kicks the door open.

Inside, the sex robot is humping…

The dead, lightly charred corpse of Chuck Lee.

…

……

Elon closes the door.

”We’re all going to the limo. None of us were here. We never speak of this again.”

”Agreed.”

”Sex robots are hard, yo…”

Todd: Well that sure was an interesting start to tonight’s show, live from Sheri’s Ranch just outside of Las Vegas!

Bama T: Interesting? More like, INSPIRING! The Trillionaires just SAVED Sheri’s Ranch! And now, everyone that wins their match tonight will be treated to a free 30-minute session with a SEX ROBOT!

Todd: Is that actually true?

Bama T: I have no idea, but I sure hope so!

Lionel prances to the ring, dressed straight out of an off-Broadway production of Hamlet.

He does vocal exercises as he strides confidently down the ramp. He steps up the ring steps, and takes into the ring, doing a series of deep knee-bends in the corner as he waits for the show to commence.

Bama T: And our first entrant into the grand Sex Robot Battle Championships, is Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing!

Todd: Fresh off a loss to Mr. Oz, and some more losses before that, Pennyfarthing heads to the ring tonight with a huge chip on his shoulder! He called out Mr. Oz and said that tonight, he plans to get his win back. But that’s going to be a lot harder done than said!

Bama T: Frankly, Todd- I don’t see any way Lionel wins this match. At best, he’s leaving in a strecther. At worst? He’s leaving in a casket!

Oswald stands amidst an indie metal band, watching the ring, looking at the band. Soon a choir is heard as the band begins to play his theme song. He walks towards the lead guitarist, clapping him gently on the back so as to not mess up her playing. Oswald, walks down the ramp, the bottom of his white cloak dragging along the ground. Once at the ring, he'd leap onto the apron before launching himself to show how strong and agile he was to lift such mass with such ease right over the top rope and de-cloaked himself, placing it in his corner before stretching out his arms in a lower case t and roaring out to the crowd before going and sitting on top of his cloak, awaiting the bell as he mentally plans out the match, as well as how to try and beat his opponent.

Todd: And here comes the opponent, the man who plans to put himself through a 3-match gauntlet tonight, MR. OZ!

Bama T: Mr. Oz looks like a man on a mission! He wants to prove that he is Anarchy’s workhorse, that he’s the monster haunting the dreams of every roster member!

Todd: Mr. Oz isn’t waiting for the bell tonight- he’s taking the fight right to Lionel!

Bama T: Poor Pennyfarthing!

SIR LIONEL PENNYFARTHING
- vs -
MR. OZ

SINGLES MATCH!

HIGHLIGHT REEL!

Oz is already jumping Pennyfarthing before the match begins! By the time the bell finally rings, Oz already has Pennyfarthing gasping for air in the corner! The referee admonishes Oz for starting early, but Mr. Oz doesn’t give a damn!

Oz is out for blood!

He keeps his hands wrapped around Lionel’s throat before he chucks him out of the corner neck first! Pennyfarthing lands directly in the center of the ring, where he wobbles back up to his feet with comedic effect.

But what Oz does next is no laughing matter!

CLOTHESLINE!

Pennyfarthing is nearly decapitated as Oz barrels out from the corner with a huge lariat! Mr. Oz doesn’t waste any time before picking Pennyfarthing right back up and placing him in a bear hug! Previously at the point of lifelessness, Pennyfarthing comes back to life in dramatic fashion as Mr. Oz squeezes his puny body. Lionel screeches like he’s dying as Mr. Oz keeps the bear hug applied!

The referee asks Pennyfarthing if he wants to quit!

But before Lionel can respond, Mr. Oz tosses him across the ring with a hiptoss!

It looks like Lioneln may have broken a hip on the landing!

Bama T: This match is a definitional mismatch! Mr. Oz is a big, hulking menace with years of experience in that ring! And Pennyfarthing is, well….Pennyfarthing!

Todd: This match could get real ugly, real quick! Pennyfarthing just doesn't seem capable of defending himself against the monster that is Mr. Oz!

Lionel struggles to pull himself up with the help of the ropes- but Mr. Oz keeps his eyes on Pennyfarthing the whole time. The moment that Pennyfarthing finally works back up to a standing position, Mr. Oz charges in with a Sleep Now, Sweet Child 'O Mine!

IT CONNECTS!

OZ’S POP-UP KNEE LANDS RIGHT BETWEEN THE EYES!

Pennyfarthing flows over the top rope and out of the ring, landing awkwardly on his neck!

Todd: This was never going to be a fair fight, but right now it looks like Dick Lichter may have booked a murder in tonight’s opening match!

Bama T: Mr. Oz is just putting on a show! A bloody good one, if you ask me!

The referee begins to count out Lionel Pennyfarthing, who appears completely unconscious outside of the ring. But before the referee even gets close to 10, Mr. Oz decides to go out of the ring in pursuit!

The referee yells at Mr. Oz to get back in the ring, but Oz snaps at him, and the referee relents…

But he begins counting!

Todd: Oz needs to remember that this isn’t his usual match type! While Oz thrives in X-treme environments, tonight’s opener is just a normal singles match! Count outs, disqualifications, all that stuff Oz never has to worry about- he has to worry about it tonight!

Bama T: Shut up, rules nerd! Oz knows what he’s doing!

The referee counts 1!

Mr. Oz picks up Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing, displaying his limp body to the camera like a puppet.

The referee counts 2!

Mr. Oz cocks his head to the side as Lionel’s eyes slowly begin to flutter awake.

The referee counts 3!

Oz slowly caresses Lionel’s face with his massive fist.

4!

Then, Oz locks in his patented finishing move!

Todd: I FAILED YOU!

BAMA T: IF SIR LIONEL WASN’T ALREADY DEAD, HE’S ABOUT TO BE!

5!

Oz locks in his version of the mandible claw as Lionel’s face begins to lose color! The front row fans begin gasping as Oz keeps the hold locked in as tight as possible.

6!

As Lionel begins losing oxygen, Oz screams “I’m sorry” over and over again!

7!

Oz keeps the mandible claw locked in while screaming in Lionel’s face! The crowd begins to worry for Lionel’s health as Pennyfarthing appears increasingly, theatrically lifeless!

8!

Todd: Oz is cutting it dangerously close here!

Bama T: I’m sure he’s going to break the referee’s count any minute now!

Todd: I’m not talking about the referee’s count, Bama! I’m talking about Lionel’s life!

The referee counts to 9!

Oz’s head snaps back towards the ring as he finally hears the referee’s count over the worried screams of the crowd. Oz looks back to the lifeless body of Lionel. Oz offers him one final “I’m sorry” before slinging Lionel back into the ring under the bottom rope.

Oz slides in right behind Pennyfarthing’s remains…

But only after the referee reaches a 10 count!

Much to Oz’s surprise, the referee calls for the bell!

Winner by COUNT-OUT….Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing

Oz can’t believe it! While the ref tries to raise Pennyfarthing’s lifeless hand, Oz goes on a rampage across the ring! Oz is seething with rage!

Bama T: I can’t believe what we’re seeing! Did Oz just lose to Lionel Pennyfarthing?!

Todd: Oz can’t believe it either! He had this entire match under control, but he lost control outside of the ring- and now, he’s losing control inside the ring!

Oz is going nuts, intermittently tugging on the turnbuckle pads and screaming at the referee. But the referee can’t focus on Oz, because Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing doesn’t appear to be breathing! The referee throws up an ‘X’ with his arms, and within moments two paramedics begin running down the ramp with a stretcher!
Todd: Oh my God folks, it seems like a serious injury has taken place in tonight’s opening match.

Bama T: You’re damn right a serious injury has occured! I don’t if Oz’s pride will ever recover from this bruise!

Todd: Forget about pride! I think Lionel Pennyfarthing may have just lost his LIFE in there to that sicko, psycho Mr. Oz!

The paramedics rush down the ramp to check on Pennyfarthing, but they try to put him on a stretcher Oz interferes!

Mr. Oz punches one of the paramedics in the face before slinging him over the top rope in an impressive feat of strength!

Todd: No, by gawd, no! First Oz destroyed Lionel, and now he’s trying to maim the paramedics! The referee needs to get him under control!

That’s when the second paramedic realizes that he is in trouble! He raises his hands up and pleads his innocence, but Mr. Oz is already on a path of destruction!

The referee tries to intervene, but Oz pushes him aside before grabbing the last paramedic and breaking his body with a Sextuple German Suplex! After the big move, the paramedic rolls out of the ring.

The referee is trying to regain order and protect the wounded Pennyfarthing, but Mr. Oz already has his sights set on Lionel!

Oz is moving in for a killshot when, suddenly-

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.

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 rage, Mr. Oz forces the clown to skip the rest of his entrance! Mr. Oz is on him in a second!

MR. OZ
- vs -
SCHADENFREUDE CLOWN

SINGLES MATCH!

HIGHLIGHT REEL!

The referee gracefully rolls Pennyfarthing out of the ring, and out of more harm’s way as Oz begins teeing off on the clown. Oz uses his size and strength to completely throw the clown off guard. After a brutal beat down, the clown is able to gain some space from Oz- but Mr. Oz closes the gap immediately with a big boot!

But the clown doesn’t go down!

The clown has an otherworldly chin!

The clown’s body flies into the ropes, and then the momentum carries him back towards Oz-

Who meets him in the center of the ring with a standing dropkick!

But the clown still doesn’t go down!

Oz quickly scrambles back up to his feet, expecting the clown to return fire:

But to Oz’s surprise, the clown just stands there…menacingly.

Mr. Oz wipes a bead of sweat from his brow as he recalculates his approach.

Bama T: This Schadenfreude Clown guy is something else! He knows how to make a hell of an entrance, and he knows how to take a hell of a punch!

Todd: And if you saw his most recent vignette aimed at Mr. Oz, you saw that he knows how to talk a lot of shit! I’m sure Mr. Oz didn’t appreciate Schadenfreude Clown’s mocking words!

Mr. Oz charges in for a striking spear, but the clown moves out of the way smugly! Oz’s shoulder runs into the turnbuckle- the same one he had ripped the pads off of just moments earlier!

Schadenfreude Clown snickers to himself as Oz backs out of the corner, rubbing his bruised shoulder and ego alike.

That’s when the clown pulls out a bottle of water, and begins viciously dousing it in Oz’s direction! Some of the water lands in a puddle in front of him, while some of the water splashes onto his arms and chest! The referee steps in and grabs the clown’s water bottle, giving the clown a stern warning for sneaking in a foreign object.

But the clown’s mockery still infuriates Oz!

Oz charges forward-

But he slips on the water puddle, falling backwards and taking a nasty head bump in the process!

Schadenfreude Clown giddily scampers over to Mr. Oz, lifting him up before taking him back down with an Overdrive!

The clown goes for a pin on Oz!

1!

2!!

KICKOUT!

Mr. Oz powers out just before 3, throwing the clown in the costume stuffed with sausages and bowling pins right off him! Bowling pins and sausages fly all across the ring!

Bama T: I hate to say it, but this Schadenfreude Clown is making one hell of an XWF debut!

Todd: His snickering and antics seem to be taking Oz off his game!

Bama T: And not to mention, all those sausages smell delicious! Talk about a master of distraction! I’m not sure if Mr. Oz will be able to focus while all those glizzies are just out and about!

The clown stands back up and starts being german, which of course does not go over well with Mr. Oz. The clown starts fornite emoting until Mr. Oz charges at him again, this time attempting to lift the clown up for a spinebuster!

But Oz slips on some of the bowling pins, and the clown begins howling with laughter!

Bama T: This clown has completely rewritten the rules of the game! He’s got a chin like no other, he’s got unheard of tactics, and he has a vicious mastery of mockery!

Todd: He’s making a great debut, no doubt! But I’m not sure he has ‘rewritten the rules’ of the game. The referee doesn’t look all too happy with his cheap tricks!

The referee is trying to kick sausages and bowling pins out of the ring whilst admonishing the clown for bringing in foreign objects.

That’s when Mr. Oz takes the bait.

Oz stands up in a rage, grabbing one of the bowling pins and smacking the clown over the head with it!

The bowling pin cracks open, and a bunch of confetti flies out on the clown’s head!

The referee sees Oz attack with the foreign object, and has no choice but to call for the bell!

Winner by DISQUALIFICATION - Schadenfreude Clown

Oz is furious, and Schadenfreude Clown is absolutely beside himself! The clown places an L over his forehead and begins highstepping in Mr. Oz’s direction after the referee raises his hand. The crowd breaks out into laughter, because even though they despise this nasty clown, his antics have been very humorous in nature!

Todd: This deceitful clown just tricked Oz into attacking with a foreign object- and he got Oz DQed in the process!

Bama T: Talk about clowns, this referee is running a full blown circus at this point!

Todd: This was an incredibly impressive- if not slightly obnoxious debut for the Schadenfreude Clown! And Mr. Oz doesn’t seem happy to be on the receiving end of it!

Bama T: I get why Oz is pissed off! If I was robbed by a clown and a zebra, I’d be pissed off too!

Mr. Oz and the referee argue whilst the clown emotes on Mr. Oz. Then, Mr. Oz slides out of the ring with a pissed off look on his face. The clown then turns towards the crowd, and begins entertaining the audience with his juggling and other such clownery!

Bama T: Wait, where’s Oz going?! Doesn’t he realize he has another match coming up?

Todd: Maybe he thinks we’re going to a commercial break!

When Mr. Oz is outside the ring, he immediately lifts up the apron and begins fiddling in the storage beneath it.

Then, he pulls out a little friend.

Bama T: Wait a second, Oz isn’t leaving! He was just getting his tools!

Todd: Oh no, he’s got a weapon! Someone tell the clown!

Bama T: Schadenfreude Clown won’t be able to hear your warning over the sound of his own chuckling!

Mr. Oz slides back into the ring with a steel chair! The referee sees it and tries to stop the impending assault, but he’s a split-second too slow!

Mr. Oz smacks the clown in the back with the chair! The clown immediately fails his juggling routine, and collapses facefirst to the mat! Then, Oz begins wailing on the clown with the steel chair!

The clown begins twitching as his skull leaks open with red goo. The clown’s fingers start throwing up gang signs whilst Oz repeatedly bashes him with the chair, but no amount of visible trauma is going to stop Oz! He’s a man on a mission!

He doesn’t even stop and look when the stage lights up, and his next opponent appears!

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: Miss Furry looks awfully calm for someone walking out into a blood bath!

Bama T: Which is weird, because usually, cats hate baths!

Todd: Maybe Gravy’s student knows something we don’t!

MR. OZ
- vs -
MISS FURY

SINGLES MATCH!

HIGHLIGHT REEL!

The referee has seen enough, and he grabs the chair from Oz! With the clown reduced to a bloody mass at the edge of the ring, the referee finally throws the chair away. Mr. Oz begins arguing with the referee, and he raises his fist to punch him! But before he can throw that punch, Miss Furry sneaks up behind him!

She rolls Oz up in a pin!

The referee takes a moment to collect himself, dropping down slightly late to count the sneaky pin!

1!

2!!

3-

NO!!!!!

Oz kicks out just in time!

Todd: Miss Furry almost won this match in record time!

Bama T: Gravy must be teaching her all his sneaky tricks!

When Oz kicks out, both him and Miss Furry scramble up to their feets- ready for the impending battle.

Oz charges at his much smaller opponent, looking to overwhelm her with his girth and tonnage-

But Miss Furry has been training for this!

She locks him into an arm drag, using the big man’s momentum against him before locking him into a grounded headlock!

Todd: An impressive technical display from Gravy’s student!

Bama T: That cat has been trained well!

Furry keeps the headlock tight, but Mr. Oz has broken out of a thousand headlocks- and now, he’s broken out of a thousand and one! He forces her arm off his neck before grappling with Furry-

But Miss Furry once again regains the advantage with a slew of short knee strikes to the ribs! The pain forces Oz to take a seat…and that’s when Miss Furry finishes off her combo package with a basement kick to her seated opponent!

Oz falls back, flat on the mat!

And Miss Furry won’t let this opportunity pass!

She heads to the ropes, bouncing off of them before sprinting at Oz and trying to drop an elbow on him-

But Mr. Oz rolls out of the way!

Furry’s elbow connects with nothing but mat!

That’s when Oz and Furry both scramble back to their feet once more, each wrestler sweating and breathing heavy.

Todd: These two might be more evenly matched than anyone imagined! Miss Furry is putting on a technical wrestling showcase, and she’s showing that she can handle Oz’s size with finesse!

Bama T: She may have looked good so far, but we’ll see how she fares when this match gets into the 4th quarter! She’s never wrestled a full match in the XWF, her cardio has never been tested!

Todd: You want to talk about cardio? Oz is on his 3rd match on the night! He should be downright exhausted by now!

Miss Furry strikes first! She runs at Oz, hitting him flush with a short-arm clothesline before she transitions the attack into a Running Facebuster that takes Oz to the mat!

Once they’re on the mat, Miss Furry doesn’t waste any time in trying to lock in a submission hold of some kind!

But Oz is a master of the mat, and he knows the counter to every jiu jitsu move she knows! She can’t get another submission off before Oz manages to escape her grasp!

Oz scrambles up to his feet, and Furry is close behind- but she’s still a second behind!

As soon as Furry steps up, Oz is already on her with a striking spear! And since there’s no rest for the wicked, Oz doesn’t waste a second in getting back up- and pulling Furry up with him. Then, he brings her back down with a bombastic body slam that shakes the ring!

Bama T: I told you, Todd! Oz excels in the second half, and now, he is completely dominating this match!

Todd: Miss Furry came out fast and furious, but you’re right Bama, Gravy’s kitty is getting tired! That could be bad for her health!

Mr. Oz’s next move is a gorilla press gutbuster, followed with a delayed vertical suplex. The barrage of big-man offense takes the wind out of Furry’s sails, and Oz seizes the momentum. He grabs a hold of Furry’s leg as the referee counts down to count a pin.

1!

2!!

KICKOUT!

Todd: That kitty’s still in it to win it!

Bama T: Mr. Oz is tiring Gravy’s kitty out, but for now, Miss Furry’s still purring!

Oz unloads on Miss Furry with another barrage of offense, firing off with a variety off spinebusters and boone bombs before closing out with a Sextuple German Suplex that rocks the entire building!

Everyone in the crowd leaps to their feet after the spectacular showcase of violence!

Oz hooks Furry’s leg for another pin!

1!

2!!

KICKOUT!!!

Todd: I can’t believe it! Gravy’s student is still fighting! She just won’t call it quits!

Bama T: Of course she won’t quit, Todd! Gravy doesn’t raise no quitters! I get the feeling that if Oz wants this win, he’s going to have to skin that kitty alive!

Todd: Don’t put ideas in his head, Bama! We already saw Oz commit two potential murders in his first two matches on the night!

Bama T: MUUUURDEERS?! Don’t defame Oz! At worst, he’s on a manslaughter spree!

Oz slams the mat in fury as Miss Furry somehow kicks out. Oz argues with the referee, and looks like he’s about to unload on the man of the law!

Oz raises a fist as the referee gulps-

But before he swings, Oz pulls it back with a disgruntled look on his face.

Bama T: If this referee isn’t careful, he might be the next person to receive a certified ass-whooping from Mr. Oz!

Todd: That ref is just trying to do his job, and Mr. Oz has been making his life miserable all night long!

Oz turns his gaze back towards Miss Furry, who appears completely exhausted. Oz’s opponent looks downright dead, like an opossum of sorts.

And Mr. Oz can see how close he is to finally ending this match, once and for all.

Mr. Oz reaches down and grabs Furry by the hair, intending to lift her lifeless body up for another big move-

BUT MISS FURRY WAS JUST FEIGNING HER EXHAUSTION!

MISS FURRY SNATCHES UP OZ IN A 9TH LIFE ROLL-UP!

Bama T: Wait, she’s alive?!?!

Todd: And she has Oz’s shoulders pinned to the mat!!!!

The referee drops down to count the sudden pin!

1!

2!!

3!!!

Oz kicks out a millisecond too late!

Winner by Pinfall - Miss Furry

Miss Furry quickly slides out of the ring after scoring the winning pin. She doesn’t even wait around for the referee to raise her hand, because Mr. Oz is completely enraged by this outcome! Oz is still looking for a fight, but just like any cat would do- Miss Furry quickly scurries away from the rampaging bulldog!

Todd: I can’t believe what we’ve seen tonight! First, Lionel Pennyfarthing scored a marquee victory on a technicality! Then, Schadenfreude Clown tricked Oz into getting disqualified! And now, Miss Furry just scored an incredibly unlikely pinfall victory in her debut!

Bama T: Tonight has been a rough one for Mr. Oz, and he’s been making it everyone else’s problem! Lionel and Schadenfreude will both be spending the night, or maybe even the week in the hospital- if not the morgue! And Miss Furry may have escaped with an upset tonight, but even she saw firsthand how powerful Mr. Oz is inside that ring!

Todd: Ain’t that the truth, Bama! Oz has been on a warpath tonight, even if he didn’t win every battle between the bells! Or, frankly- any of them!

Bama T: And now, it looks like Oz is turning his ire onto the referee who screwed him three times in a row!

Mr. Oz tries to reach out and grab the referee by his sweaty neck- but the ref is too sick with sweat! He slips out of Oz’s grasp before rolling out of the ring and running up the ramp! Mr. Oz is close behind, however, and he’s screaming bloody murder!

Mr. Oz chases the referee all the way up the ramp and into the back, before Anarchy cuts to commercial!

Several chairs of different shapes and sizes surround the ring. Plastic, steel, wooden, one with Ennui Clown sitting in it… Oh… He’s already here?

“Yeah… I ‘m here… I guess…”

He can hear me!?

TODD: Hi Ennui!

Todd waves at the clown who barely lifts a finger to wave back before he groans and sinks into the recliner.

BAMA: This guy is bumming me out! Where the hell is Betsy to kick this guy’s ass!?

“Now, who’s ready to be baptized into a new era of entertainment?!”

BAMA: I am, baby!

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.

“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.

As the ref ushers Ennui to enter the ring to start the match who sighs forcing himself forward and crawls under the bottom rope before lying there face down.

Betsy’s hops begin to slow as she eyeballs tonight’s referee, “Muscles” Marinara, who goes to call for the bell, which has been replaced by a glockenspiel for this match!

RING-A-DING-DING!

Betsy gets into a fighting pose as Ennui Clown…

Continues to lay still…

Betsy halts her movements.

So does Ennui… I guess?

BAMA: Is his special power sucking the life out of the room!? He’s even wearing down the Impossible Traveler!

Betsy lets out a huff as she walks over to Ennui who… Dodges out of the way? By slowly rolling out of the ring and slapping onto the outside.

Granger watches as he drops with a cartoon splat and looks back to “Muscles” Marinara who shrugs.

Betsy hops over the ropes and drops with a stomp… To nothing!

As Ennui Clown goes to sit down on a chair.

TODD: Wait, Ennui! That’s not a chair, that’s an oversized bear trap!

CRUNCH!!!!

The audience gasp!

Except Bama who screams out-

BAMA: HELL YEAH!

Betsy winces.

But is surprised when Ennui is folded in half, completely unharmed.

Trapped but out of the harm of the teeth.

”Sigh… This is fine…”

Betsy looks confused but feels the need to help him out, grabbing the jaws and opening up the bear trap and Ennui rolls out landing on his feet to the sound of an orchestral sting in the form of a “Ta-Da!”

He immediately goes back to slouching and walks to the next chair in line; Betsy goes to grab him but stops herself, not even knowing whether to fight this clown or not.

Ennui goes to sit down.

TODD: Ennui, no! That’s a comically large bounce spring from Sonic the Hedgehog!

Ennui is launched high into the air, smashing through the ceiling and a loud scream fades into the night sky.

Betsy looks up as the form of Ennui Clown grows smaller and smaller disappearing into the glint of a star.

The place is silent as everyone looks up for a great length of time, hoping Ennui will come back down but never does.

BAMA: Looks like he left the atmosphere, baby!

TODD: It seems the ref is confused on how to play this, Bama.

BAMA: Can’t he just be counted out!?

TODD: There’s no count outs in musical chairs…

As the ref shrugs and goes to call for the bell, Ennui Clown steps back into frame beside Betsy.

…

Nobody cheers.

Betsy, growing tired, elbows the clown in the gut before striking upward with a knee before grabbing Ennui in a full nelson!

The crowd amp up as Betsy turns Ennui towards what could be the steel chair and hits-

TODD: Ich Muss Dich Brechen!!!

And smashes Ennui through the chair!

And Ennui’s face crashes into the ground!

BAMA: Waitaminute! That’s ain’t steel… THAT’S CAKE!!!”

Betsy and Clown are covered in delicious sponge and jam!

Betsy kneels up and sighs before shrugging and grabbing a slice of chair cake and taking a bite as she hops up to her feet, with her free hand she grabs Ennui’s ruffles and launches him under the ropes and back into the ring.

Granger takes a stroll around the ring tapping each chair in turn to check if it’s real.

The crowd give a raising “ooooh” as she passes the wooden garden chair, the plastic sun lounger, the porch from Next Friday and finally her hand wraps around the classic steel chair which the crowd pop for heartily.

Ennui does not move, instead laying on his back and looking up at the hole in the ceiling.

Betsy slides into the ring and wipes her hand on her gear before raising the chair over her head and approaches a prone Ennui.

With a side smile and a shrug, she almost apologizes to him.

“Sigh… Just do it…”

Betsy smashes the chair down on Ennui with a mighty clack that echoes through the area!

The crowd cheer as the ref calls for the glockenspiel!

RING-A-DING-LING-A-DING!

Winner - Betsy Granger!

[video=youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hjuMlolaKo4&list=RDhjuMlolaKo4[/youtube]

Out from the back to absolutely no reaction is Bobby Sales, who is wearing a large trench coat. As he walks down the ramp, he opens the coat to the fans, showing off various products that he has for sale.

TODD: Here comes the newcomer. Sales has a big challenge ahead of him for his first match.

BAMA: Hey, what’s he got there? What are you selling, baby?!

TODD: I’d advise you not to buy any of that stuff, there’s no way he obtained it legally.

Sales walks over to the commentary table and opens up the coat to Bama and Todd, showing off a variety of trinkets and fragrances that he has for sale. He starts pointing at one of the bottles and talking to Bama.

BAMA: …how much?! You’re insane!

Sales just smiles as he turns and steps into the ring, handing his jacket over to the referee before raising his arms in the air.

BAMA: That dude tried to rip me off!

TODD: You mean you didn’t get a good deal from the stranger in a trenchcoat selling perfume?

[video=youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KKiRou2LzHM[/youtube]

The mood quickly changes as the fans rise to their feet following the familiar refrain of “Wild Thing”.

TODD: Some tale of the tape here. This will be Centurion’s 336th recorded match in the XWF. This is Bobby Sales’ first match anywhere. Centurion has won 32 title belts in his career here in the XWF. Sales has sold one belt to a plumber in Manhatten.

BAMA: An even matchup!

Out from the back steps Centurion, Television Title slung over his shoulder, to a raucous ovation. Centurion is no nonsense as he walks, steely eyed down the rampway.

BAMA: Remember Todd, all Bobby Sales has to do is throw Centurion over the top rope. The experience advantage may be negated because of that.

TODD: There’s some truth to that, no doubt.

Centurion steps into the ring and sets his title down on the ring apron. He nods over to the referee, who calls for the bell.

CENTURION
- vs -
BOBBY SALES

OVER THE TOP ROPE MATCH!

Sales immediately rushes as Centurion, who ducks the attack. He bounces off the ropes and comes back, nailing Sales with a Bloody Symphony!

TODD: Right out the gate!

BAMA: That could have knocked some teeth out!

Centurion pops back up and grabs Sales by the back of the head and collar. He runs over and easily tosses Sales over the top rope as the bell rings.

WINNER: Centurion

TODD: That might have been one of the quickest matches in Anarchy history!

Centurion grabs his title and tosses it back over his shoulder before gesturing to Tig on the outside to hand him a microphone. She does, and Centurion instantly begins to speak.

CENTURION: ELONNN!!! You get your gremlin looking ass out here right now! I’m tired of these stupid games! You want to embarrass me - you’re going to have to do it yourself!

Centurion paces back and forth in the ring as the crowd cheers.

CENTURION: Come on, I can stand out here all night if I need to. I’ll absolutely hijack every single one of these matches moving forward if you don’t come out here and look me in the eyes, face to face. Be a man! Get down here!

“I’m sorry to disappoint you…”

Out from the back steps Dick Lichter to a chorus of boos. He holds his hand up in an attempt to quiet the crowd, but when that does not work, he just pushes through it.

LICHTER: I’m sorry to disappoint you, but Mr. Musk will not be coming down to the ring at this time. You see, Cent, certain people have responsibilities far beyond your comprehension. You think Mr. Musk has time to deal with one disgruntled wrestler when he has an entire world he’s looking to change? Ha?

The crowd begins an “Elon suck! Elon suck!” chant, which Lichter seems displeased by. Nevertheless, he continues.

LICHTER: However, you would be pleased to know that the trillionaires HAVE been thinking about you. 2026 is your 25th year in the XWF, isn’t that right?

The crowd cheers as Centurion nods.

LICHTER: Very impressive. And you’ve gathered quite the fanbase over those 25 years - a fanbase willing to spend a decent amount of money. Which is why, in four weeks, the trillionaires, INCLUDING Elon Musk, whose name you continue to sully, have decided to host a special episode on Anarchy in your honor, in your hometown of Atlantic City. Centurion’s 25th Anniversary Special - Thursday, March 12th, LIVE from the Showboat in Atlantic City. Get your tickets now!

The crowd cheers, though the cheers are somewhat muted given the clear shilling that Lichter is doing.

LICHTER: As far as WHO you’re facing, well…see, these kinds of decisions are the reason they hired me. All the trillionaires care about is getting people through those doors, they couldn’t care LESS about who you face. So I get to decide, and I have been coming up with some ideas. Maybe a gauntlet match against all the clowns? That would be fun. Oh, maybe a sing off with Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing? He’s got quite the voice, you know. Oh, I know - an Evening Gown match! You’ve wrestled in a dress before, I’m sure you’d do great! Honestly, these are all great ideas, but I think…

Before Lichter can continue, the lights to the arena turn off. A murmur comes over the crowd as everyone waits to see what happens next.

[video=youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?si=9erfjmAVOVwN_U3Q&v=IStlBOX9F4o[/youtube]

The lights slowly raise back up as everyone’s attention turns back towards the rampway. Suddenly, out the back, steps…

“GODLY” KEN DAVISON.

BAMA: Woah.

TODD: That’s Ken Davison! He’s a wrestling legend, won championships all over the world. But what is he doing here?

Centurion and Lichter both look equally as confused as Davison stands confidently on the top of the ramp. He snatches the mic out of Lichter’s hand and speaks.

DAVISON: Hi Cent! I hope this isn’t a bad time, but I was in the area and thought I’d…stop by.

Davison looks down at Lichter, who has a look of both confusion and anger on his face. Davison smiles, seemingly unphased by the GM’s annoyance.

DAVISON: I was looking forward to speaking with you at the Tag Turmoil event in the WGWF, but it turns out, you didn’t show up. It’s a shame, because before I was going to eliminate you from that match, I wanted to bring up something. You and I, we’ve crossed paths a lot. Your resume and my resume share some similar letters, and even similar championships. And yet…we never got the opportunity to face each other.

The crowd’s murmurs begin to rise as they start to get excited.

DAVISON: Now, you and I both know that we are closer to the sunset of our careers than we are to the sunrise. I mean, you were supposedly “retired” at this time last year. And I can’t let that happen again without getting an opportunity to face you.

Centurion smiles and nods as Lichter’s eyes dart back and forth between Davison and Centurion.

CENTURION: I love it! But it’s not me you have to convince. That troll standing next to you is the one who makes the matches.

Lichter snatches the mic back from Davison.

LICHTER: You’re damn right I do, and I’m not going to book this match just because some outsider wants me to! Cent, you’re not worthy of such a high profile match for this event, you understand me? I will find you someone more…on your level.

Davison snatches the mic back from Lichter.

DAVISON: I’ll make this real simple for you - you want Centurion embarrassed? Give me the opportunity to kick his ass in front of his home town.

Centurion laughs as he does a “bring it” gesture to Davison. Davison slowly lowers the mic to Lichter, but doesn’t relinquish it. Lichter looks around, pouty at the situation he’s been put in, before finally saying in a huff…

LICHTER: FINE!

The crowd explodes as Lichter storms off towards the back. Centurion smiles and nods as he points up at Davison and “God Will Cut You Down” plays again.

TODD: INCREDIBLE! Ken Davison will be facing Centurion in four weeks time, as Centurion’s anniversary event!

BAMA: Centurion thought he was going to be fighting a clown, and instead he gets one of the most accomplished pro wrestlers in the world! This might not have been a good thing for the Television Champion!

"Lord give me a sign!"

The vocal screams through the stadium, dropping it into a hush. The sound of a church organ hits the system, as a choir boy or two begin their harmony. The faithful begin to clap to the beat, some raising their hands as a single white spotlight settles on the top of the ramp.
Abel Gracie steps out through the curtains, eyes bowed and hands clasped in prayer. The light seems to shoot out from him, glancing off the reflecting shoulder pads on his long black leather coat. Abel lifts his chin with an "amen" still on his lips, as a smile too big to be comfortable cuts across his face. He walks down towards the ring, raising a hand to children past and whispering blessings to them. Of course... Their parents try and pull them away from this psycho.

TODD: Abel Gracie, the zealot! The prophet! He’s turned heads and impressed in his first two matches on Anarchy, Bama!

BAMA: Gracie’s got the grit and the guile and he gives me goosebumps! He’s shown he’s not just bible verses, his hands can back up dem gums a flapping about his holy mission!

TODD: But this is the first time he’s sharing the ring with a champion of the XWF! And not just a champion, but one with a reign that’s growing by the day! Can Gracie by the one that derails the XXXVI revolution?

He takes the long way around the ring, making sure to bless fans in all four corners and our delightful commentators. Taking the steps up and gently stepping through the bottom ropes, he lets his coat fall to the floor - to reveal his scar-covered body. The lights settle on the middle of the ring now, where he drops to his knees, throws his head back and spreads his arms wide as he awaits his music's end... And the beginning of his worship service.
…

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, the Revolution title shines in the spotlight over his shoulder. He shakes 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.

TODD: Thunder Knuckles! ‘Spoiled’ Summer Page! Mister Oz! Reggie Estrada! At this point, you’ve gotta ask… what is it gonna take to stop XXXVI’s Revolution!

BAMA: That resume would look dominant, but you’re accidentally underselling it, Toddy baby! XXXVI didn’t just beat that monster, Oz! He beat him TWICE in the same night! XXXVI’s reign is up to one-hundred-and-FORTY-SIX consecutive days!

TODD: He’s the second-longest reigning Revolution champion of All-Time. Still a ways away from Matthias Syn’s 252-day record, which at the time it ended, had been over two-thirds of the Revolution title’s entire lifespan…

BAMA: It was previously thought untouchable! Unbreakable! But XXXVI’s reign of terror… it’s starting to look comparable!

TODD: Gracie won’t end XXXVI’s reign tonight! This match is non-title! But can the Man of the Lord prove that XXXVI is just a man? Or will he be another victim to XXXVI’s dominance!

Half way down, XXXVI 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. He 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.

CIX hands the belt to the timekeeper at ringside as Gracie and XXXVI stare each other down in the center of the ring…

TODD: Not only are these two competitors VICIOUS, Bama! But this match is X-Treme Rules! No DQ! No count-outs!

BAMA: This is gonna one YOU-NEEK match, Toddrick! We might see a baptism in a burning trashcan! Or someone get literally BIBLE-THUMPED! Does the concession stand sell communion wafers by the popcorn bucket?

DING DING.

ABEL GRACIE
- vs -
XXXVI ©

X-TREME RULEZ!

HIGHLIGHT REEL

After the bell rings, Abel doesn’t rush from his starting position. He stands center ring, hands folded behind his back, smiling gently.

XXXVI circles.

Gracie opens his arms — an invitation.

TODD: Abel Gracie knows his Lord is with him. He shall not falter!

BAMA: …Gives me the creeps…

XXXVI answers with a lightning-quick low dropkick to the knee, chopping the base out from under him.

Before Gracie can rise—

SUPERKICK.

The echo snaps through the arena.

TODD: Whoa! XXXVI proving he doesn’t work by the minute! He’s looking to take out Gracie in record time!

BAMA: XXXVI’s boss, The Director, been off running around with Jenny Myst… and in that time XXXVI’s been flying without his handler, he’s running like a dog off his leash! He’s only gotten faster! Only hit harder! Only looked more dominant!

Gracie’s head rocks backward, blinking, facing towards the sky!

…But XXXVI doesn’t even let up for a second! He’s already rebounding off the ropes!

SLING BLADE!
TODD: Wow! A second high-impact move from the Revolution champ!
BAMA: It’s like XXXVI choreographed the most graceful, meticulously-exact sequence of physical movements that would make the act of driving his fist through Gracie’s throat look like a Belarusian ballet!
Gracie’s back his the mat! XXXVI’s chest naturally slides atop him into a cover!
ONE!

TW-

Gracie kicks out at one!

TODD: It’ll take more than that to put down Abel Gracie!

Gracie rolls to his knees, grinning through the sting.

[Image: wireline.png]

The two are back to a vertical base, circling each other…

TODD: Abel managed to scrap back up and assume a fighting stance!

BAMA: And he learned the hard way not to invite XXXVI to hitcha! Gracie’s lucky he’s still standing at all, much less moving around!
Abel lunges with a stiff-arm clothesline…
XXXVI blocks it with both forearms, and boots Gracie in the stomach!
And in a split-second…

WHAM! XXXVI rotates into a spinning backfist across Gracie’s jaw!

[blue]TODD: The Director has called XXXVI his weapon… and but out from under the Director’s thumb, he looks even deadlier!

BAMA: Guns don’t kill people, people kill people! An-...

…

BAMA: There’s a point in there somewhere… Anyway, XXXVI is kicking ass!
Gracie staggers backward into the ropes!
But XXXVI steps forward, closing the distance as Gracie rebounds off the ropes and into his arms for a…

RELEASE BELLY-TO-BELLY SUPLEX!

TODD: Holy COW! What a maneuver!

XXXVI goes for another quick cover!

ONE!

TWO!

THR-NO! Gracie somehow kicks out!
[Image: wireline.png]

XXXVI pulls Gracie off the mat by the scalp…

In a flash, Gracie’s eyes spark! His hands zoom around XXXVI’s back and yank the champ off his feet, transitioning instantly into a Smiling Bearhug!
Gracie squeezes with all his might as XXXVI’s back arches, his spine compressed!

TODD: Gracie sensing his first opening of the match and taking it before it’s gone!
BAMA: The Lord provideth!

Abel stomps exaggeratedly with each tightening breath. XXXVI’s ribs compress.

But XXXVI raises his fists and axehandles Gracie to the face! Gracie stumbles backwards, his grip broken!

BAMA: …And the Lord taketh away!

Gracie staggers back into the ropes…

But XXXVI is still on him! Running dropkick! And Gracie spills over the top rope to the outside, landing hard on his back!

TODD: XXXVI has not let up for one second on Abel Gracie!

BAMA: But with Gracie outside the ring he might get a moment’s repri-

XXXVI grabs the ropes!

SHOOTING STAR PRESS TO A PRONE GRACIE, LANDING ACROSS HIS CHEST ON THE FLOOR!

TODD: Think again, Bama!

[Image: wireline.png]

XXXVI digs under the ring — steel chair.

TODD: Oh my! Things are about to take a turn for the EXTREEEEEEEEEME!

Abel rises through blood on his lip.

Chair swing—

Blocked!

Abel boots XXXVI in the stomach! The Revolution champ drops the chair!

BAMA: Gracie’s been getting battered like a kid blasphemin’ in sunday school, but he’s got the belt now!

Abel grabs it… looking at it like a crusader wielding a blade blessed to do the Lord’s work…

XXXVI shakes his head from the ground… Rising up…

Gracie swings!

…But XXXVI ducks under! Gracie rotates all the way around as XXXVI leaps up to the apron…

DISASTER VAN DAMINATOR! XXXVI’s boot drives Gracie’s own chair into his face!
[Image: wireline.png]

Gracie is back inside the ring, muttering a prayer for the strength to beat down this demon…

Meanwhile, XXXVI slides out and brings in a table.

Todd: This is escalating fast!
Bama: That boy’s Revolution Champion for a reason, Todd. He ain’t here to preach — he’s here to kick a whole in the status quo!

XXXVI tilts the table against the corner of the ring against the turnbuckle… Behind him, Gracie is pushing himself up to one knee…

XXXVI turns around, looking to drag his opponent toward the table…

But Gracie springs like a loaded trap!

BIG BOOT!

XXXVI gets clocked across the face, turning three-hundred-sixty degrees before landing on his face!

TODD: And for once, Gracie’s in control!

[Image: wireline.png]

Abel drags a staggering XXXVI up to his feet… breathing the Lord’s air, summoning his strength as he reels back his fist!
Hammerfist to the temple!
Then a raised knee to the jaw.
XXXVI wobbles.
Abel roars and scoops him up—
Spinebuster!
The crowd explodes!

TODD: It feels odd to say Gracie winning would be an upset… but this would be a major feather in his cap!
Gracie covers!
ONE!
TWO!

THR-NO! XXXVI kicks out!

The crowd rises to their feet, as Abel’s face changes… He whispers: “Unbelief…” as a palpable disgust bleeds across his face…

TODD: Abel Gracie sees resistance as a rebuke of his Lord’s love…

BAMA: And he’s about to make XXXVI a believer!
Gracie drags XXXVI up for…

The Loving Sacrifice!

The Full nelson is locked in!

Gracie lifts — shakes XXXVI violently!

The crowd rises, anticipating a submission…

XXXVI twists… but Gracie’s holding on tight!

…XXXVI’s feet shuffle, rotating he and Gracie towards the turnbuckle with a table…

TODD: What is the Revolution champ thinking here, Bama?

BAMA: I don’t know if you can think when Gracie’s got you like that… Pure panic has gotta set in!

XXXVI…

Runs toward the turnbuckle! Gracie’s feet shuffle forward, trying to keep the hold locked in…

XXXVI runs up the table! Spins off the turnbuckle as Gracie clinches on!

ACID DROP! XXXVI’s drives Gracie’s skull against his shoulder!

Gracie rebounds up… looking rough…

As XXXVI kips-up!

And dropkicks him backwards!

THROUGH THE TABLE!

The crowd goes nuts!

HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!

[Image: wireline.png]

XXXVI drags Gracie out of the pile of twisted, gnarled wood!

Pulls him upright!

Hooks the arms!

Legs thread!

ROMERO SPECIAL! LOCKED IN!

TODD: XXXVI has got his trademark submission hold locked in! And now the panic has gotta be setting in for Gracie!

XXXVI arches back, stretching Abel’s spine cruelly.

Abel screams but refuses to tap.

XXXVI transitions smoothly—

Rolls forward—

Slides into the Dragon Sleeper.

Third Eye Bind.

Abel’s eyes flutter.

He claws at the mat.

The hold tightens.

XXXVI’s face is calm. Focused. Certain.

Abel fades.

The referee checks once.

Twice.

Arm drops a third time.

DING DING DING.

Winner: XXXVI

Todd: It’s over! XXXVI wins it clean in an X-Treme Rules match!

Bama: It’s insane, Toddrick! XXXVI has taken on more and more dangerous opponents… And he’s only won more dominantly! The walls between him and Syn’s record are getting higher… But he’s only climbing them faster!

After the match, XXXVI celebrates the win. He goes to the turnbuckle and places his hands in prayer position, bowing as the crowd cheers him on. He steps down as he sees CIX on the apron, holding his Revolution championship. He opens the ropes and she enters and then drapes the title over his shoulder. At ringside, Steve Sayors comes to the ring with a microphone.

Steve Sayors: Congratulations on your win, XXXVI. What does this win mean to you?

XXXVI: Thank you, Steve. First of all, this is my first interview since I arrived six months ago. It feels like I have arrived. I know my title was not on the line tonight, but Abel Gracie is an impressive talent. I know here, especially in this house of debauchery and sin, he would have loved to put me in my place in the name of his god. Getting this victory was just as important to me as any title defense. Abel, if we ever have the chance to run it back, I look forward to it.

SS: Great. Thank you for sharing. Can you talk about your relationship with The Director?

XXXVI: Of course. You all saw what happened Monday on Warfare. I didn’t know Solomon Kline was going to return. I didn’t know exactly what the Director had planned, but it’s no secret that I disagree with his decision to entertain the likes of the former Corporation. We have been at odds off behind the scenes. I knew I needed to be there. As I sat backstage, I found my moment and I confronted him. What happens next remains to be seen.

SS: Of course. Do you have any thoughts on him finding a new partner and seeking tag team gold, as his former partner?

XXXVI: I’m done talking about the Director now. Any other questions?

SS: Yes, we can definitely shift gears. At Snow Pain, Snow Gain, Betsy Granger won a number one contender spot for your Revolution championship. Any thoughts on your challenger?

XXXVI: Let me be clear. Betsy Granger is my biggest challenge yet. So the reason I asked for a non-title match tonight is that I believe a match between me and Betsy is worthy of being on a Pay-Per-View. I want to show that I won’t back down from any challenge, but I want our match to take place at March Madness. I’m sure with the recent trend and the theme that we will be given some ridiculous gimmick match and I have consistently shown that I thrive in the chaos of it all. I believe in myself. I believe that I can overcome the challenge, but it is absolutely an uphill battle. Betsy is more than capable of beating anyone on a good day. So I look forward to our eventual meeting.

SS: The first interview from our Revolution champion! Thank you for your time, XXXVI.

XXXVI shakes Steve Sayors’ hand and raises the Revolution title over his head as the crowd cheers. XXXVI leaves the ring with CIX by his side.

TODD: Folks, all that’s left is our main event! And the Anarchy title, Thursday night’s top prize is on the line!

BAMA: If you told me these two were getting an Anarchy title shot a couple months ago, this’d feel like a night off for the champ! But both Landerson and Hixx have been DOMINANT as of late!

TODD: And Graves’s partner tonight is the last Anarchy champ! The one that Graves just dethroned at Snow Pain, Snow Gain! If Arroyo and Graves aren’t on the same page… this might not a tag match! This could very quickly dissolve into a three-on-one assault!

TODD: Latoya Hixx is, genuinely, the strongest person… not woman, the most PHYSICALLY imposing individual on the XWF roster!

BAMA: Ol’ Stormy had been on a cold streak at PPVs! But, she and Team Razor won at War Games! And then she and Razor won a tag match to become Number One contenders to the Anarchy Tags at Snow Pain, Snow Gain!

TODD: Hixx has never held championship gold in her young XWF career! But she has excelled in a tag environment recently… And tonight, she’s getting a shot at a singles title with a tag partner! The advantage might never be more in her favor than tonight!

The lights return to their default settings as Hixx walks straight down the aisle and she slaps a few hands of wrestling fans! As she walks by the chopper, she points at and pantomimes revving the engine!

Hixx climbs up the steel steps, then enters the ring…

The lights dim and she flexes her muscles one final time!

…

When Booyka 619 hit's he walks out on stage and kneels down on one knee and prays. He gets up and points to the Fans in Pyro fireworks burst open and switch to the other side of the stage in does the same thing in

TODD: El Landerson! The Bit Luchador! It feels like the Bit Luchador only got here a short while ago but he has rocketed up the card! He’s currently #15 on the ELO chart!

BAMA: Landerson’s full of surprises! He takes a lot of risks in that ring, but the crazy thing about risk-takers is… that ring rewards them! Something about the world of wrestling loves the bold and there might be no one bolder than that little man there!

BAMA: This is Landerson’s first opportunity with an XWF title on the line! Can the Bit Luchador pull off the upset and become the Anarchy champion!

after he was done he slowly walks down the ramp in slaps some little kids high fives and he stops and stares at the kid in hands him his Luchdor Mask to him and heads straight towards the ring and hops on the turnbuckle and pose both fingers in mid air and walks to the other side turnbuckle in does the same thing mid finger in the air in he gets down and wait for his Opponent arrive.

…

EL LANDERSON & LATOYA HIXX
- vs -
MICHEAL GRAVES © & KRISTOFFER ARROYO

TORNADO TAG ELIMINATION – If Landerson or Hixx pin Graves, they become ANARCHY CHAMPION

HIGHLIGHT REEL

Landerson and Hixx are laser-targetted, eagerly awaiting the bell to ring…

Meanwhile, Arroyo eyes the side of Gravy’s head… Graves turns in the Dark Warrior mask to eye his partner…

Kristoffer Arroyo.

Still.

Hands folded behind his back.

Head tilted.

Smiling.

TODD: The tension is thick enough to bite on.

BAMA Bite through maybe if you’re Vamp! I don’t trust either one of ‘em, Todd. One’s a blood-drunk psycho and the other one kisses you before he drops you on your head. That’s a horror movie I once rented from a Blockbuster but got too scared to watch by myself...

Graves mutters something sideways and unhinged to Vamp…

Vamp sneers, his fangs glimmering under the spotlight above the ring…

TODD: The bell hasn’t even rung and this team might already expl-

DING DING!

El Landerson SPRINGBOARDS across the ring!

Flying crossbody onto Graves!

At the same time—

Latoya Hixx storms in like a freight train!

SPEAR!

She cuts Arroyo in half!

TODD: The challengers are going right for the champion!

BAMA: They’ve waited a long time for XWF gold! They want that belt tonight! Hell, they want it YESTERDAY!

Graves tumbles to the mat, clutching ribs… shooting off profanity as it tends to whenever Graves’ mouth is even briefly open!

Landerson scrambles off Arroy’s chest for a quick cover!

ONE!

TW—Graves kicks out!

[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: Landerson and Hixx clearly trying to take advantage of their opponents not being in the mood to talk out strategy!

BAMA: They’re going all-out blitz on Gravy and Vampy!

Hixx holds Graves’s arms behind his back as she nods at Landerson and then the ropes!

Landerson nods… running for the ropes, looking for a hurricanrana…

…But Arroyo springs off the mat!

And catches Landerson mid-sprint with a knee to the gut!

TODD: What a strike by Vamp! Like a jaguar catching a sprinting gazelle in its jaws! Way to cover his partner!

BAMA: Jury’s still out on whether he was looking out for Gravy or simply giving Lando some back for that crossbody! Vamp got his bell rung right after the bell rung!

Arroyo drags Landerson up by the mask, looking to continue the onslaught

But Hixx tosses away Graves to the mat…

And wraps her arms around Arroyo’s back! Waistlock into…

Deadlift!

Release German suplex!

Arroyo lands hard on his neck!

The crowd erupts!

[Image: wireline.png]

Hixx is flexing for the crowd as the crowd chants…

STORM IS COMING! STORM IS COMING!

Arroyo shakes off cobwebs as Hixx turns around, stomping, demanding he turn around…

TODD: Reminder! The belt doesn’t change hands if Arroyo is eliminated!

BAMA: But man! Pinning Arroyo is an accomplishment in and of itself, Toddy baby! And it’d set up Landy and Stormy to take out the champ with a two-on-one handicap!

Arroyo turns around…

Hixx lifts him off his feet…

Just as Gravy shoves his palms against the mat, working his way back to his feet!

Hixx reels her arms…

FALLAWAY SL-

WHAM! Graves steps up…

HEAVY HANDED SLAP across her face!

BAMA: Ouch! Mark Flynn briefly piloted Gravy’s body! And he said Gravy’s got the best striking hands in the biz!

The crack echoes!

…

Hixx doesn’t move.

Instead, she drops Arroyo to the mat… And looks at Graves with an unbridled rage storming in her eyes.

TODD: …That. I wound’t have done that.

BAMA: Gravy’s got a iron right hand but Hixx has a steel jaw apparently!

…As Hixx eyes him furiously, Graves stops… and looks around like ‘hey, who did that?!? Wasn’t me!’

Latoya roars and starts swinging!

Forearm to Graves’ jaw, sending him staggering back against the corner!

Corner splash! Driving Graves against the corner! Graves staggers out…

As Hixx lifts him off his feet!

HELLACIOUS FALLAWAY SLAM! Graves scatters across the ring like someone thrown out of a moving car!

HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!

[Image: wireline.png]

Graves is down in the center of the ring…

Hixx is pointing to the corner, where Landerson is climbing the turnbuckle!

TODD: Landerson looking for the Landerson Frog Splash!

BAMA: Is Hixx gonna let him get the pin though?!? Only one of them can be the Anarchy champ!

Landerson gets to the top turnbuckle! He releases the top ropes, ready to fl-

WHAM! From the apron, Arroyo leaps, kicking the turnbuckle! Landerson loses his grip, falls to the apron and tumbles to the padded concrete below!

TODD: Once more, Arroyo makes the save for his partner!

BAMA: …Okay! This is a surprise! Arroyo is making some efforts to keep his partner in this one!

TODD: He has a proven record in tag matches, Bama! He and Summer Page performed excellently together!

Hixx’s eyes widen furiously, as Graves sneaks over to the ropes to catch his breath…

Arroyo steps through the ropes, rushing in—

BAM! Hixx catches him with a boot to the gut!

Arroyo staggers back into the corner… At the same time that Graves pulls himself up by the ropes to his feet…

Latoya pops up, chest heaving, eyes wild!

She spreads her arms.

Inviting both men.

TODD: Latoya Hixx is trying to take on BOTH the Anarchy champ and former Anarchy Champ at once!

BAMA: That’s stupidity!

TODD: That’s The Storm!

Both men head toward her! She doesn’t wait, charging Graves with a…

LARIAT!

The champ ducks!

And Arroyo sweeps the leg!

Latoya crashes to a knee—

Graves rebounds off the ropes!

BULLDOG!

Arroyo immediately transitions—

Fujiwara Arm Bar!

Graves stomps down on her exposed face as Arroyo twists Hixx’s arm behind her back!

TODD: Oh my Gosh! These two brutal monsters are dismantling Hixx! Dissecting her!

Latoya roars through the pain, bench-pressing Arroyo up off her! She scrambles toward Gravy!

But Graves spits green poison mist into her eyes!

She staggers blind… as he hoists her onto his shoulders!

Grave Digger (Death Valley Driver)! Hixx is spiked backfirst onto the mat! She flops onto her face!

Arroyo floats over—

Crossface Chicken Wing!

Graves drops into a Boston Crab simultaneously!

A grotesque tandem submission!

TODD: This is… surgical! This is grotesque!

BAMA: This is tag-team wrestling at its finest! Arroyo and Graves look like fire and gasoline out there!

…Landerson exhaustedly pulls himself up by the apron to his feet…

Hixx SCREECHES in agony, but she can’t break both submission holds!

…

SHE TAPS OUT!

Eliminated: Latoya Hixx

TODD: The challengers go down one! It’s Landerson against Arroyo and Graves!

BAMA: Someone go buy a very small coffin! Landy’s gonna need it!

[Image: wireline.png]

The crowd buzzes as the two competitors circle Landerson, alone in the center of the ring…

TODD: The Bit Luchador looking like he’s in trouble here![/blue[

Landerson nods once.

And explodes forward!

Arroyo goes for a clothesline!

But Arroyo ducks under, rebounding off the second rope!

Backflip crossbody onto Arroyo!

[blue]TODD: The Bit Luchador refusing to back down!

BAMA: He’s like a mosquito in a slaughterhouse!

Arroyo gets planted, but Graves is right there, grabbing Landerson by the eyeholes of his mask, before hurling him toward the corner!

But Landerson runs up the turnbuckle!

Asai moonsault! Takes Graves down to the mat!

Landerson clinches on, hooking the leg!

ONE!

TWO!

THR-NO! Graves forces a shoulder up!

TODD: That was… shockingly close!

Graves shoves himself off the mat as Landerson scrambles back to a vertical base…

Desperation right-handed smack!

But Landy ducks, and twists Gravy’s arm behind his back, before latching his ankle around Graves’ ankle and twisting him into a somersault, shoulders pressed against the mat!

TODD: Graves looks like a pretzel out there! Does he even know which muscle he needs to use to kick out of that one!

Landerson presses down!

ONE!

TWO!

THR—NO!

Graves barely escapes, forcing his shoulders off the mat!

BAMA: Graves’ attention span may be trash but his survival instincts ain’t!

TODD: But things are undeniably going Landerson’s way right now! Can he find the win!?!

Graves goes for a big kick!

But Landerson side-steps and leg sweeps Graves down, his throat along the middle rope!

Landerson points to the crowd! Arroyo charges from the mat to attack Landy!

Landerson does the sign of the cross as he does before a high-risk move!

Vamp hisses and recoils to the corner!

TODD: Landerson’s favorite taunt repels vampires!

Landerson fires up!

He charges! Rebodungs off the ropes!

Landerson Six One-Nine!

The kick snaps Graves’ head sideways!

The champion crumples!

TODD: That’s gonna do it! We have a new champion!

Landerson dives through—

Crawling for the champ!

But Arroyo zips from the corner, grabbing Landerson by the mask and pulling! Landerson’s mas goes askew, he can’t see!

Arroyo boots him in the gut… Then pulls him close!

Forehead to forehead.

A whisper.

Then—

A deep, mocking kiss planted on Landerson’s lips.

ROMEO’S LAMENT!

He drives him skull-first into the canvas!

TODD: Devastating move!

Landerson bounces off the mat, standing unconscious… As Graves zips into action…

GRAVES’ CONSEQUENCES!

Landerson gets PLANTED on the mat!

Arroyo and Graves each plant a boot on the lil’ Luchador’s chest!

ONE.

TWO.

THREE.

Winners: Micheal Graves & Kristoffer Arroyo

TODD: What a chaotic, brutal Tornado Tag Elimination Match! Landerson nearly stole the championship!

BAMA: But nearly don’t get you gold, Todd! Graves keeps his belt, and Kristoffer Arroyo just reminded the world exactly how dangerous he is!

TODD: One surprising takeaway is how effective Arroyo and Graves were as a unit! Covering each other’s defenses! Devastating their opponents with an overwhelming, ceaseless barrage of offense! These two may run afoul of each other in the future… But IF they can co-exist…

BAMA: Who the hell is gonna stand in their way?!?

Thanks to all of our wonderful match writers!

Peter Principal
Atticus Gold
Centurion

& our amazing segment writers!

XXXVI
The Trillionaires
Centurion

& to everyone who RPed!

]]>

XWF Anarchy
[Image: vuE1ZV0.png]

2 - 12 - 2026

LIVE FROM SHERI'S RANCH!

PAHRUMP, NEVADA

SIR LIONEL PENNYFARTHING
- vs -
MR. OZ

SINGLES MATCH!

MR. OZ
- vs -
SCHADENFREUDE CLOWN

SINGLES MATCH!

MR. OZ
- vs -
MISS FURY

SINGLES MATCH!

CENTURION
- vs -
BOBBY SALES

OVER THE TOP ROPE MATCH!

ABEL GRACIE
- vs -
XXXVI ©

X-TREME RULEZ!

EL LANDERSON & LATOYA HIXX
- vs -
KRISTOFFER ARROYO & MICHEAL GRAVES ©

TORNADO TAG-TEAM ELIMINATION MATCH!

IF GRAVES IS PINNED, HE LOSES THE ANARCHY CHAMPIONSHIP!

1 RP per team @ 2,000 words

Resort at Sheri’s Ranch

TEN MINUTES LATER

SIR LIONEL PENNYFARTHING
- vs -
MR. OZ

SINGLES MATCH!

HIGHLIGHT REEL!

Winner by COUNT-OUT….Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing

MR. OZ
- vs -
SCHADENFREUDE CLOWN

SINGLES MATCH!

HIGHLIGHT REEL!

Winner by DISQUALIFICATION - Schadenfreude Clown

MR. OZ
- vs -
MISS FURY

SINGLES MATCH!

HIGHLIGHT REEL!

Winner by Pinfall - Miss Furry

CRUNCH!!!!

Ennui is launched high into the air, smashing through the ceiling and a loud scream fades into the night sky.

Winner - Betsy Granger!

CENTURION
- vs -
BOBBY SALES

OVER THE TOP ROPE MATCH!

WINNER: Centurion

HIGHLIGHT REEL

Winner: XXXVI

…

When Booyka 619 hit's he walks out on stage and kneels down on one knee and prays. He gets up and points to the Fans in Pyro fireworks burst open and switch to the other side of the stage in does the same thing in

TODD: El Landerson! The Bit Luchador! It feels like the Bit Luchador only got here a short while ago but he has rocketed up the card! He’s currently #15 on the ELO chart!

BAMA: Landerson’s full of surprises! He takes a lot of risks in that ring, but the crazy thing about risk-takers is… that ring rewards them! Something about the world of wrestling loves the bold and there might be no one bolder than that little man there!

BAMA: This is Landerson’s first opportunity with an XWF title on the line! Can the Bit Luchador pull off the upset and become the Anarchy champion!

after he was done he slowly walks down the ramp in slaps some little kids high fives and he stops and stares at the kid in hands him his Luchdor Mask to him and heads straight towards the ring and hops on the turnbuckle and pose both fingers in mid air and walks to the other side turnbuckle in does the same thing mid finger in the air in he gets down and wait for his Opponent arrive.

…

TORNADO TAG ELIMINATION – If Landerson or Hixx pin Graves, they become ANARCHY CHAMPION

HIGHLIGHT REEL

Eliminated: Latoya Hixx

TODD: The challengers go down one! It’s Landerson against Arroyo and Graves!

BAMA: Someone go buy a very small coffin! Landy’s gonna need it!

[Image: wireline.png]

Winners: Micheal Graves & Kristoffer Arroyo

Thanks to all of our wonderful match writers!

Peter Principal
Atticus Gold
Centurion

& our amazing segment writers!

XXXVI
The Trillionaires
Centurion

& to everyone who RPed!

]]> <![CDATA[ANARCHY 1-08-2026]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=49641 Sat, 10 Jan 2026 15:35:59 -0800 'Big' Dick Lichter]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=49641

XWF Anarchy
[Image: vuE1ZV0.png]

1 - 08 - 2026

LIVE FROM THE CRISLER CENTER!

ANN ARBOR, MICHIGAN

SIR LIONEL PENNYFARTHING
- vs -
SAFARI STU

SINGLES MATCH!

MR. OZ
- vs -
XXXVI ©

BEST OF THREE!

Match 1 will be an X-TREME RULEZ match! The Revolution Championship will be on the line!

ABEL GRACIE
- vs -
WICKED WITCH

SINGLES MATCH!

CENTURION
- vs -
ENNUI CLOWN

CIRCUS LUMBERJACK MATCH!

10 circus clowns will be surrounding the ring, acting as lumberjacks with 100% loyalty to Ennui Clown!

SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
MICHEAL GRAVES

CHASTITY MATCH!

It’s just a normal singles match, but Micheal Graves must wear a chastity belt because I DON’T TRUST HIM!!!

MR. OZ
- vs -
XXXVI ©

BEST OF THREE!

If needed, match 3 will be a SUBMISSION match! The Revolution Championship will be on the line!

CLUTCH CASSIDY© & SAMAEL DYSON©
- vs -
KINGSGUARD #6 & KINGSGUARD #7
w/ Kieran King at ringside!

LADDER MATCH!

The Anarchy Tag Team Championships will be on the line!

1 RP per team @ 2,000 words

The camera opens in Ann Arbor, Michigan—or at least, that’s what the chyron insists.
But the ring is dressed wrong for violence.

Plush couch. Low table. Crystal glasses that absolutely should not survive what usually happens on ANARCHY. The ropes are pushed back just enough to give the illusion of civility, the mat scrubbed clean like someone’s trying to launder the memory of blood out of it. The crowd hums with that familiar Michigan impatience—half curious, half offended—because they paid for chaos and got a living room instead.

Then the screen above the ring flickers.

Satellite delay.

A half-second of static.

And suddenly Queen’s Court exists in two places at once.

On the tron: the MystManagement Compound, Las Vegas.

Not a studio. Not a rental. A compound.

Wide marble floors. Floor-to-ceiling glass looking out over desert night. The Strip glows in the distance like a warning label. Everything is immaculate in that unsettling way—too clean, too deliberate, like the messes happen somewhere else and never reach this room.

The couch is the same.

The table is the same.

The framing is identical down to the inch.

It’s a mirror held up to the ring, except the ring looks smaller now. Cheaper. Temporary.
Jenny Myst sits comfortably on her version of the set, legs crossed, Mortimer nowhere in sight—because champions don’t need props when leverage is enough. She’s dressed like she didn’t even consider Michigan weather. Vegas silk. Vegas confidence. Vegas distance.

She smiles..

“Good evening, Ann Arbor.”

A pause. She listens to the mixed reaction—boos, cheers, confused noise—through an earpiece that cost more than most of the front row’s rent.

“First things first,” she continues calmly, “I want to thank XWF for setting all this up. The ring. The couch. The aesthetic effort. Truly. Very accommodating.”
Another pause. Her eyes flick briefly off-camera, like she’s checking a clause only she’s allowed to see.

“Unfortunately, I will not be there.”

The crowd groans. Jenny nods as if that reaction was expected, budgeted for, approved.

“You see, I am the X-Treme Champion. I carry your belt. I boost your ratings. I trend on your worst days and your best ones. And yet—” she leans forward slightly now, elbows on knees, tone sharpening just enough to cut, “—you want me to wrestle without a signed contract.”

She laughs softly. Not funny. Disbelieving.

“And in a city that smells like Detroit.”

That one lands harder. The ring-side camera catches faces snapping up, outrage bubbling. Jenny doesn’t flinch.

“So no. I didn’t fly to Michigan. I didn’t pack a bag. I didn’t even pretend to consider it. Until ink touches paper, Queen’s Court will continue from wherever I decide the throne belongs.”

She gestures lazily around her.

“Tonight? Vegas.”

The tron zooms out slightly, revealing security in the background. Gates. Distance. Control.

Back in the ring, the empty couch suddenly feels like an insult. A stage dressed for someone who refused to show.

Jenny reclines, completely at ease.

“But don’t worry,” she adds, smiling again. “I’m still here. Live. On your screen. On your show. On my terms.”

She tilts her head, eyes narrowing with playful menace.

“So let’s talk contracts.

Let’s talk respect.

And let’s talk about how strange it is that I’m the only one in this arrangement acting like a professional.”

The crowd noise swells again—angrier now, louder, alive.

The split screen holds.

Left side: the ring in Ann Arbor—ropes, lights, the couch planted dead center like a dare.

Right side: Las Vegas, glass and marble and desert night breathing behind Jenny Myst like the city itself is exhaling confidence.

Jenny waits for the noise to settle. She lets it stretch just long enough to remind everyone who controls dead air.

“Now,” she says smoothly, “normally this is the part where I’d gesture to the championship. The X-Treme Title. My division. My leverage.”

She smiles, tight.

But I want to be very clear—so clear there’s no legal confusion later—neither I nor her”—she emphasizes it, sharp, deliberate—the XWF X-Treme Championship, are in that ring tonight.”

A murmur ripples through the crowd. The camera cuts to the couch in the ring.

Charlie Nickles sits there alone.

Relaxed. Hands folded. That familiar Nickles posture—half slouch, half coiled wire. He looks out at the crowd like he’s waiting for a punchline or a punch, whichever comes first.

Jenny’s eyes flick to him on the monitor.

“But,” she continues, voice lightening just a touch, “that doesn’t mean Queen’s Court is empty-handed.”

She gestures toward the ring.

“Because tonight, I’ve invited someone who doesn’t need a belt to understand what extreme actually means.”

Beat.

“Charlie Nickles.”

The crowd reacts—recognition, laughter, scattered boos. Charlie gives a small nod, leaning back into the couch like he owns squatter’s rights to it.

Jenny tilts her head, studying him like a case file.

“Charlie,” she says, “you are sitting in that ring. On my set. On my show. Live on XWF television. And you’re doing it without me being physically present.”

A pause.

“I didn’t bring violence tonight. I didn’t bring weapons. I didn’t even bring her.” Another precise emphasis. “What I brought was perspective.”

Her smile thins.

“Because I am not just a champion. I am a consultant. I advise companies on risk. On optics. On how far you can push a concept before it becomes a liability.”

She gestures toward him again.

“And tonight, The Corporation is pushing the freebird concept to the limits of X-treme!”

The crowd hums.

“So let me ask you—live, on ANARCHY, with no contract inked and no belt in the building—what does X-Treme mean to you, Charlie Nickles?”

She lets the word hang.

“Is it blood? Is it pain? Is it chaos for chaos’ sake?”

Jenny reclines back into her couch, perfectly at ease.

“Take your time, Charlie.

After all—this is a consultation.”

The camera holds the split screen.

Charlie just sighs to himself before lifting the microphone up to his lips.

“Jesus Christ, you really are a self-centered, self-obsessed, talkative BITCH ain’t ya?”

The Nickleman chuckles to himself as Jenny’s face turns sour.

“But you know what? That’s ok, I knew that when I brought you in. And remember that, Jenny….I brought you in. And biting the hand that feeds? Well…let’s just say I know how to put a bitch down, eh?”

Charlie’s smile fades away as his eyes drift to the X-treme Title slung over blonde barbie’s shoulder.

“But as for the matter of the day, what does X-treme mean to me? Well, it means breaking EVERY rule, twisting EVERY word, and always coming out on top! Just like we’ve managed to do with our freebird reign.”

Jenny cracks a cocky smile.

“Exactly right, Charles. Oz has already knocked out our Anarchy defenses, and last Warfare we knocked out all 3 Warfare defenses. All that’s left, is for me to sit back in Vegas and watch business get handled at Snow Pain, Snow Gain…and once we get those final two defenses, that briefcase is as good as mine! Or…”ours”.”

Jenny smirks like a cunt. Nickles raises a concerned eyebrow.

“Surely you mean OURS, as in…MINE, right Jenny?”

But before Jenny can respond-

A BIG DICK APPEARS ON STAGE!

“Cut her feed! Cut her feed! I don’t want to see that WGWF cast-off on my programming!”

“Hey, wait a second! You can’t cut my fee-”

But just like that, Jenny’s face disappears from the X-tron. All that’s left now is a plush set-up in the ring, Charlie Nickles, and the little GM up on the ramp. “Big” Dick Lichter stares down at the ring with a righteous fury as Charlie just raises a curious eyebrow.

“Enough of this shenanigans, Charlie! Enough of this mockery! You know as well as I do that you can not “Freebird” the X-treme Championship!”

“Well that’s where we differ, little man, because I don’t know anything like that. Need I remind you…I’m the brains AND the brawn behind The Corporation- so what I say, fucking goes. Got it?”

Charlie tries to puff out his chest, but it only drives Lichter more insane! Steam starts escaping from his ears as he goes into a rant.

“BRAINS?! BRAINS?! You think you’re the damn brains of any operation?! You IDIOT! You just gave away the X-treme Championship to JENNY MYST…and she doesn’t even wrestle here! How the hell did you expect to get a briefcase from that? Are you wet between the ears, or just wet between the cheeks, you unwashed ass of a man?!”

Charlie stands up, a look of concern quickly flashing across his face.

“Woah woah woah little man, I didn’t “give” away the X title to nobody. The Corporation is FREEBIRDING it. What don’t you understand?”

“What don’t I understand? What don’t YOU understand? You CAN NOT do that!”

“I can do whatever I want! I’m Charlie fuckin’ Nickles!”

That’s when Lichter stops pacing, and suddenly stands still- a quaint smirk starting to spread across his lips.

“Oh yeah? That’s cute. Well how about this…BY THE POWER VESTED IN ME BY THE TRILLIONAIRES, IN MY OFFICIAL CAPACITY AS GENERAL MANAGER FOR ANARCHY, AND AS THE HIGHEST RANKING MEMBER OF THE CORPORATION HERE…..

I’M OFFICIALLY STRIPPING YOU, MR. OZ, DR. CAMBRIC, AND YOUR UGLY SISTER OF THE X-TREME CHAMPIONSHIP!

EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY!

YOU’RE ALL FORCIBLY VACATING IT!

And Jenny Myst is now the only OFFICIALLY RECONIZED X-treme Champion!

…..God that sounds so awful to say, so DAMN awful, THAT I WILL MAKE SURE SHE IS FORCED TO DEFEND IT AT SNOW PAIN, SNOW GAIN!

And she will lose!

Just like you’ve lost this battle against The Big Dick!

So tell me, Charlie…who’s the little man now?!”

“No….”

The Nickleman’s face goes pale as the life drains from his eyes.

“YES!”

Lichter exclaims proudly, clearly flaunting his power in Charlie’s face.

Charlie doesn’t answer at first.

His mouth hangs open as his eyes twitch. Something in his face breaks.

Then he starts laughing.

Not loud. Not funny. A dry, choking sound, like something tearing loose in his chest.

“You… you think…”

He drags a hand down his face, practically shaking now.

“You think you just beat me?”

Charlie’s head snaps up.

“YOU THINK YOU JUST TOOK SOMETHING FROM ME?!”

The smile is gone. Replaced by raw, frothing fury.

“I BUILT THIS CORPORATION! I CARRIED IT! I BLED FOR IT! AND YOU JUST STOOD THERE WITH YOUR LITTLE CLIPBOARD AND TOLD ME I DON’T MATTER?!”

He storms forward, veins standing out in his neck.

“NO. NO, YOU DON’T GET TO DO THAT TO ME! YOU DON’T GET TO STRIP ME, HUMILIATE ME, AND PRETEND THIS WAS SOME KIND OF ‘MANAGEMENT DECISION’!”

Charlie jabs a finger at the stage, spittle flying.

“I’M DONE WITH THE CORPORATION! I’M DONE WITH THE TRILLIONAIRES! I’M DONE WITH YOUR RULES, YOUR BOARDS, YOUR LITTLE PAPER KINGDOM!”

The crowd is deafening now.

“YOU WANT ME OUT OF YOUR SYSTEM?!”

“FINE!”

“I QUIT The Corporation!”

“I will RUIN this Corporation.”

“I will POISON every deal.”

“I will BURN every structure you built.”

“I will tear this place apart the only way I know how…”

He leans forward, eyes wild.

“THE BASTARD WAY!”

Lichter stands defiant at the top of the ramp as Charlie goes ballistic in the ring, flipping over every piece of furniture left from “The Queen’s Court”.

“I don’t need your briefcase.”

“I don’t need your permission.”

“By the time Snow Pain, Snow Gain is OVER…”

“I WILL BE THE UNIVERSAL CHAMPION.”

He slams the mic down against his chest.

“NOT BECAUSE YOU GAVE IT TO ME…”

“BUT BECAUSE I TOOK IT OUT OF YOUR COLD, DEAD HANDS!”

Charlie straightens slowly, eyes still burning. The camera locks on his face as the crowd roars. Big Dick Lichter doesn’t look away, though: he stares right back into the fire with a rage of his own.

Then, we cut to a commercial!

Todd: Well folks that was an interesting, and unexpected start to the night! Did we just see Charlie LEAVE The Corporation?!

Bama T: He wouldn’t really do that…would he?

Todd: Well either way, we have an…interesting match up to kick things off between Safari Stu and the XWF’s resident thespian Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing.

Bama: Resident what?!

Todd: Thespian, Bama, thespian!

Bama: Oh. I thought you said….something else….

Todd: Anyhow, let’s shoot ringside we’re I’m told Sir Lionel is about to make his grand entrance.

Lionel prances to the ring, dressed straight out of an off-Broadway production of Hamlet.

He does vocal exercises as he strides confidently down the ramp. He steps up the ring steps, and takes into the ring, doing a series of deep knee-bends in the corner as he waits for the show to commence.

As the drums echoed down tonight, the rumble of a Jeep painted in camouflage drowns it out like the blessed rains of Africa. The Jeep continues down the ramp to ringside, where Safari Stu jumps out of the passenger seat. He high fives the gorilla driving the vehicle as a flood of wildlife also files out. Waving to the crowd, Stu gives a monkey to a young fan as a sign of appreciation. He then climbs into the ring and shoots off finger guns in the air while the monkey decides whether it'll rip the kid's face off. Such is the circle of life.

Bama: Gah! Some kind of creature is approaching the announce position from Safari Stu’s truck! Help me, Todd!!!

Todd: That’s an anteater, Bama. Totally harmless. Unless your an ant.

The anteater siddles up next to a very nervous looking Bama as the bell kicks things off.

SIR LIONEL PENNYFARTHING
- vs -
SAFARI STU

SINGLES MATCH!

Safari Stu approaches Lionel, looking to start a lock up. Lionel also looks to start the lock up, before he abruptly turns away and starts monologuing towards the audience. No one can hear him of course because he forgot to ask for a microphone. Stu scratches his head in confusion and simply rolls Lionel up from behind.

1….

2…..LIONEL KICKS OUT!

Todd: It doesn’t seem like Sir Lionel’s ring awareness has improved much.

Bama: …..

Todd: Are you alive over there partner?

Bama: This thing is freaking me out!

Lionel looks distraught and almost betrayed that Safari Stu tried to pin him. We hear him declare something about “not letting this matter devolve into fisticuffs” and Stu just continues to look really confused as he takes a swing at Lionel. Lionel ducks deftly under the blow and skitters to the opposite end of the ring to continue his monologue. Unfortunately for Lionel, he also just set himself up for a big splash in the corner, which is precisely what Safari Stu does! Lionel bounces out of the corner in a daze and Stu follows up with a Scorpion Death Drop that plants the actor! Stu pins again!

1….

2….

3….NO! Another kickout from Sir Lionel!

Todd: So are you going to help me call the action here at all or what?

Bama: It’s looking at me!

Todd: Maybe it wants you to pet it?

Bama: It’s not a dog!

Todd: Just try it!

Lionel again looks simply disgusted by his opponent’s vulgarity as he woozily gets to his feet. He seems like he’s had quite enough! And as Stu approaches Lionel unleashes a thunderous and very theatrical slap to Stu’s face that rocks the young safari boy. Lionel follows that up with a tirade on Stu that again none of us can actually hear. Now Stu looks upset and he grabs Lionel by his prodigious collar, picks him up and slams him down before heading for the ropes and bouncing off them into a picture perfect Lionsault! He covers Lionel again!

1…..

2……

3…NOOOOO! Still a kickout from Pennyfarthing!

Todd: I’m thinking Lionel should just throw in the towel here. How’s it going between you and the anteater partner?

Bama: I….I think it actually likes me!

Stu allows Lionel to get to his feet, and he does so, albeit much more slowly than before. He looks like he’s hurting, and just when you think he’s down and out he turns his face to contrast shadow, making himself look more villanous!

Todd: Uh oh, I think Sir Lionel means business now.

Now, shockingly, it’s Lionel who goes for a lock up on Stu, but instead he punts Stu in the testicles instead! The ref immediately intervenes and threatens to DQ Lionel, but the vaunted actor simply glides past the ref’s tirade and rolls Stu up!

1….

2…..STU KICKS OUT!

Lionel looks shocked and appalled in equal measure, and he forces Stu down for the count again!

1…..

2….STU KICKS OUT AGAIN!

Lionel rises to his feet and tosses his arms out theatrically, beseeching the dramatis personae themselves what to do, scouring the heavens looking for an answer! Calling out to God himself, in a thunderous voice with fist raised high…..! And just as Sir Lionel’s performance seems to reach an apex….Safari Stu hits a Dragon Suplex on Sir Lionel into a cover!

1…..

2…..

3!!!!

Winner - Safari Stu

Todd: Safari Stu is certainly rolling here Bama, picking up another decisive win even if it is just over Sir Lionel.

Bama: I think I’m going to adopt this anteater!

Todd: Only in the XWF….

A trumpet blares.

Military drums beat.

And then…

BAMA T: MY LIIIIIEEEEEEEEEGGGGGGGEEEEEE!!!!

“The Gentle Art of Making Enemies” by Faith No More begins, and the greatest artist at making enemies, the King of the XWF himself, Kieran King, enters the arena, surrounded by his Kingsguard.

Every week the number varies, but no matter how many bodies The King recruits, they all seem larger and more vicious than the previous XWF Security Team that they replaced.

They escort their leader to the ring and spread out around the ring, putting themselves between The King and any would-be ne’er-do-wells.

King Kieran: Bitches and gentlefucks… allow me to speak to you about the State of the Union.

Tonight… thanks to the benefits of collective bargaining… the Kingsguard adds the Anarchy Tag Team Championships to our ranks. And at Snow Pain Snow Gain… again, with the union’s support… I, your King of the Union, become the Universal Champion yet again.

But…

There seems to be some sort of misunderstanding here.

Elon Musk wants to give Scoops McGee a shot to sew discord within the House of Hardcore. You know the guys, right? The super dominant War Games winners who have managed one win out of five outings since. I'm sure we should all be shaking in our boots about that.

And then, continuing the House of Hardcore's failings, Charlie Nickles knocks off Dickie Watson and demands a one on one match for the title himself. And he's so confident in his capacity to do it again that he needs to try to get a 24/7 briefcase in his back pocket!

Well hey… you want to see confidence?

King Kieran clicks his fingers and… the Kingsguard begin leaving the ringside area???

TODD: What's going on here? The Kingsguard are all leaving?

BAMA: It's called confidence, Todd! The King has assessed the situation here in Ann Arbor and thinks he's got it covered himself.

TODD: I can't imagine they're going far though. Two of them have a match for the Anarchy Tag Titles in tonight's main event!

Alone in the ring, Kieran smirks.

King Kieran: If anybody has a problem with your King, now's the time to take your issue up with me personally.

But… I've got a better option.

Because if you want to see confidence, then let me tell you about the Disputes Resolution clause the union is working on. It goes a little something like this…

At Snow Pain Snow Gain…

Dickie Watson defends the Universal Championship against…

Scoops McGee…

and…

Charlie Nickles…

and of course…

The King of the XWF… YA BOI… King Kieran!!

Two extra bodies between me and what's mine? It's all the same to me!

Suddenly, static cuts over the X-Tron and the scene opens up somewhere backstage on the potato-shaped head of Elon Musk. Beside him vapes Mark Zuckerberg while Jeff Bezos drinks a chalice of tomato juice that looks suspiciously like blood.

Elon's dead beady eyes look straight through the camera to Kieran King.

Elon Musk: Deal.

And the fees cuts as quick as it arrived!

The crowd roars as the main event for Snow Pain Snow Gain is confirmed!

Kieran King smirks as the camera fades out.

TODD: Ladies and gentlemen, this is Match One of a best-of-three series, all tonight! The winner of the series becomes the Revolution Champion!

BAMA: And Toddrick, one of these men just proved last Anarchy how capable he is wrestling multiple matches in the same night!! Ya gotta figure we’ve never been in better shape for a title change!

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.

TODD: Here he is, one of the most dominant champions in the history of the Revolution championship, XXXVI!

BAMA: He’s beaten Thunder Knuckles twice! He’s beaten Summer Page! But, he’s facing tonight one of the toughest competitors in all of Anarchy! And he might have to wrestle him three times in one night!

Half way down, XXXVI 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. He 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.

…

Oswald stands amidst an indie metal band, watching the ring, looking at the band. Soon a choir is heard as the band begins to play his theme song. He walks towards the lead guitarist, clapping him gently on the back so as to not mess up her playing. Oswald, walks down the ramp, the bottom of his white cloak dragging along the ground. Once at the ring, he'd leap onto the apron before launching himself to show how strong and agile he was to lift such mass with such ease right over the top rope and de-cloaked himself, placing it in his corner before stretching out his arms in a lower case t and roaring out to the crowd before going and sitting on top of his cloak, awaiting the bell as he mentally plans out the match, as well as how to try and beat his opponent.

TODD: And there he is! Fresh off of wrestling three matches in one night just last Anarchy! The absolutely dominant Mister Oz!

BAMA: Oz didn’t run the gauntlet with a perfect record, but he swatted SIr Lionel like he was a gnat and he managed to follow it with a dub over Marisol Vilaro! And he came inches away from pulling it off over Micheal Graves too!

TODD: That impressive performance night didn’t leave him empty handed. It made him the #1 contender for the Revolution title. But to score the gold, he’s got to go through XXXVI! And he’s gotta do it twice out of three tries!

MR. OZ
- vs -
XXXVI ©

BEST OF THREE!

Match 1 will be an X-TREME RULEZ match! The Revolution Championship will be on the line!

HIGHLIGHT REEL

The bell rings and neither man rushes in. Oz stands tall in the center of the ring, arms slightly outstretched, chin lifted like a deity inviting worship. XXXVI circles him, light on his feet, mask tilted as if studying a puzzle.

TODD: Both these men are famous thinkers, two very tactical competitors in the ring…

BAMA: Sure, fine, they’re both thinking seven or eight moves ahead, but one of them has gotta move here and now!

The first man to move is Oz, who steps forward and shoves XXXVI hard in the chest. XXXVI stumbles back… then snaps forward with a sharp dropkick to Oz’s knee, immediately chopping the base down.

TODD: Smart opening strategy by XXXVI! Trying to counteract Oz’s size advantage by cutting down his vertical base.

BAMA: I mean, you could cut Oz’s legs at the knee and I think he’d still be an inch taller than XXXVI!

Oz roars and swings wildly. XXXVI ducks, rebounds, and cracks Oz with a sling blade, sending the larger man rolling to the outside!

Oz rapidly shakes his head, snorting furiously, spinning to re-enter the ring…

But XXXVI is already leaping over the ropes! Sudden tope suicida moonsault to the floor!

Both men go crashing into the barricade!

The crowd erupts!!!

BAMA: Gah LEE! That XXXVI would throw himself into a speeding train if it meant keeping that belt around his waist!

TODD: We saw just how difficult it is to keep Oz down… XXXVI knows he’s got to pull all the stop from the get-go if he wants a chance of retaining that Revolution title!

As Oz shakes his head, snorting mad, almost immediately rising to get back to his feet… XXXVI scrambles over to the timekeeper’s table!

HE GRABS A CHAIR! The crowd is fucking electric!

TODD: Here we go! Match one is X-TREME RULES! And the first one to take things to the X-Treme is the champ!

Oz slowly spins around… WHAM!

XXXVI jabs the chair into Oz’s ribs! Oz staggers backwards into the apron!

TODD: How is Oz still standing?

BAMA: He’s a TANK, Bama! He doesn’t get beat, he gets MAD!

Oz fumes, shoving off the apron!

XXXVI tosses the chair at him!

Oz catches it!

TODD: Great reflexes by the challenger!

…

But XXXVI leaps off the apron! APRON-ASSISTED VAN DAMINATOR!

XXXVI kicks the chair straight into Oz’s face and Oz goes down hard!

BAMA: What the hell was that?!?

TODD: I think something just dented the tank, Bama!

Bloodied pride ignites Oz as he grips the apron, shoving himself back upright….

XXXVI comes back toward the challenger with the chair…

But Oz snatches the chair from XXXVI mid-swing!

TODD: Oz looks PISSED!

BAMA: Oz looking like a HOSS out here!

Oz RIPS the chair out of XXXVI’s grip… and then folds it across XXXVI’s fae with one brutal shot! The champion drops flat onto his back!

TODD: And for the first time since this match started, Oz is looking like he’s in position to deal some damage!

Oz shoves the chair away and drops a boot across XXXVI’s chest!

TODD: X-Treme Rules! Falls count anywhere!

BAMA: Oz might have just taken the first match in the series in a single chair shot!

The official drops on the padded concrete to count…

ONE!

TWO!

THR-NO! XXXVI kicks out!

TODD: Incredible resilience by the champion! That kind of shot would have dropped anyone else!

BAMA: XXXVI might just be deathproof if he survived that shot!

XXXVI catches Oz with a right hand… a second! A third!

XXXVI back steps toward the ropes to build speed!

…BUT Oz picks him up off his feet!

DOUBLE A SPINEBUSTER!

TODD: This is when Oz is most dangerous! When he’s already on a roll!

BAMA: That’s gotta be it!

Oz hooks the leg, a more serious pin this time!

ONE!

TWO!

THR-NO! XXXVI kicks out!

The crowd is going absolutely nuts!

TODD: This is crazy! How is XXXVI still in this?

BAMA: You know what’s crazy, Todd! No matter how this one ends, both these guys gotta turn around and wrestle AGAIN!

Oz fumes down at his opponent, furious at his defiant will to survive…

Oz rolls outside the ring and reaches under the apron…

TODD: Oh God… Oz is going for a weapon?!?

BAMA: I don’t know what the hell he’s gonna find down there more dangerous than his two fists…

Oz fishes around…

And retrieves…

…

A MEATHOOK!

BAMA: …No, yeah, okay, he found something more dangerous than his fists!

TODD: Insane! Oz pulls out a meathook, the same weapon he used to beat Marisol Vilaro last Anarchy!

Oz rolls back into the ring, setting up the meathook by stabbing it into the corner turnbuckle.. He turns back—

—and eats a spinning backfist from XXXVI out of nowhere!

TODD: Lotta time playing with his toys, Oz forgot he had a playmate!

XXXVI fires up, blasting Oz with a superkick, then a dragon screw that twists Oz down to one knee.

XXXVI springs forward, latching Oz into a frontface lock…

DDT on the mat! Oz’s skull SLAMS into the mat HARD!

TODD: That just might have done it!

XXXVI works with all his strength to turn Oz over onto his shoulders… he hooks the leg!

The official counts!

ONE!

TWO!

THRE-OZ KICKS OUT!

TODD: Holy HELL!

BAMA: One of these men has gotta go down at some point, right?!?

Oz exhaustedly rises up to his feet,,, XXXVI calculates…

And sees the meathook sticking out behind Oz!

TODD: Oh my… If we could see XXXVI’s face, I bet he’d be flashing a sickening grin with the idea he just came up with!

XXXVI charges toward Oz, looking for a d-

OZ CLINCHES DOWN ON XXXVI! I FAILED YOU! (Mandible Claw!

TODD: OH MY! Oz just snatched victory from the jaws of defeat!

BAMA: And he just snatched XXXVI’s jaw like it owes him money!

XXXVI’s arms spin wildly, trying to resist as Oz tries to muscle the champ downward!

TODD: This has gotta be it! How could the champ get out of this one?

Oz charges, rushing to take XXXVI off his feet…

…But XXXVI brings his weight down!

AND BRINGS OZ’S SKULL DOWN on his shoulder! Jawbreaker! Oz’s hold breaks!

TODD: Incredible counter by XXXVI!

Oz looks woozy as XXXVI dashes to the opposite corner and sprints out of it…

SHOTGUN DROPKICK!

Oz gets blasted across the ring!

AND GETS STUCK INTO THE MEATHOOK!

TODD: OH MY GOD!

BAMA: You live by the meathook? You die by the meathook!

Oz’s eyes are wide as he slumps forward looking depleted… A massive meathook sticking out of his back…

XXXVI shoves Oz onto his back… somehow his shoulders get onto the mat despite the massive meathook sticking out of it!

The official counts!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE

Winner of Match One: XXXVI

TODD: XXXVI wins the first fall! The Revolution champ takes an early lead!

BAMA: Lotta game left to play, Toddrick! It ain’t over til it’s over!

XXXVI rolls off Oz, clutching his ribs, but pushes himself upright as the referee raises his hand.

Todd: Ladies and gentlemen, this singles contest is about to get underway, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen two belief systems collide quite like this.

Bama: Todd, one of ‘em worships pain and the other one’s been alive since the Bible was still a rough draft. Somebody’s faith is gettin’ tested tonight.

Abel Gracie’s theme plays

The arena is suddenly plunged into a deep, sickly emerald green and oppressive black as the colossal, pounding choir and tympani of "O Fortuna" erupt across the speakers. The ring announcer's voice booms with a strained tremor, introducing her as the "collector of destiny, the architect of sorrow, the bearer of the Curse of Vanity! Prepare yourselves for the Wicked... Witch... of... WRESTLING!"

A thick cloud of low-lying smoke begins to creep out from the ramp. As the music hits its powerful, sweeping orchestral swell, a single, intense spotlight cuts through the fog, revealing the Wicked Witch of Wrestling standing motionless at the top of the ramp. Her silhouette is framed by her long, tattered black robes, and she clutches her ornate black cauldron in one hand. She slowly lifts her hideous green face, unleashing a piercing, amplified cackle that slices through the powerful chorus, marking the start of her slow, deliberate, and arrogant march to the ring.

BAMA: Now, if you wanna talk about impressive debuts, Toddrick? The Wicked Witch of Professional Wrestling managed to beat two of the toughest femmes this side of the Mississippi Delta in Game Girl and Amber Mansley!

TODD: You’re omitting that The Witch pulled it off while teaming with Centurion, but it is undeniable that the Witch was very impressive in her debut! She’s proven to be a highly capable tag competitor! But this is her very first singles match! Will she melt under the pressure or will we see a little more magic from her tonight?

She walks with a heavy, powerful stride, staring at the crowd with utter contempt; she may pause to dramatically swipe her arm at any fan who dares reach out, dismissing them as a trivial nuisance. As she nears the ring, she briefly pauses her march, dipping a finger into the cauldron and smearing a bit of a dark, oily substance onto herself before the confrontation. She then mounts the steel steps with intimidating ease and stomps into the ring, scaring the hell out of the ref and the fans at ringside.

Once inside, she carefully places her cauldron on the apron and steps to the center of the ring, turns slowly to face all directions of the arena, and finally raises both hands above her head as if concluding a dark ritual, just as the final, dramatic crash of the "O Fortuna" music cuts out, leaving the venue in a terrifying, expectant silence.

ABEL GRACIE
- vs -
WICKED WITCH OF PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING
Singles

The bell rings, but neither competitor advances. Abel Gracie stands perfectly upright in the center of the ring, hands clasped low, chin raised, eyes closed as the crowd’s boos wash over him. He exhales slowly, almost peacefully.

Across from him, the Wicked Witch prowls in a loose circle, hunched shoulders rolling as she studies him like prey. She tilts her head, lips curling into a crooked grin, then theatrically spreads her arms to invite the jeers.

TODD: The fans do not like either of these competitors, Bama!

BAMA: But they’re sure gonna love both of them getting pummelled to near death by the other!

Gracie opens his eyes and finally steps forward.

TODD: And we’re ogg!

They lock up collar-and-elbow. Gracie immediately overpowers The Witch, walking her backward step by grinding step until her spine hits the turnbuckles. He presses his forearm into her throat, boots planted, teeth clenched.

The referee starts a count. The Witch snarls, then suddenly rakes the eyes. Gracie recoils just enough for her to slip under his arm, snap off a Swinging Neckbreaker, and pop to her feet with surprising quickness.

She stomps his ribs, hits a Claw Slap across the jaw, and drops a Hammer Fist to the back of his head as he tries to rise.

TODD: If you thought you might see a nice elegant match tonight, folks…

BAMA: You picked the wrong match to tune in on! Gracie believes pain is salvation so he’s gonna WHUP whoever he’s in the ring with! And the Witch ain’t got a nice bone in her body! She ain’t gonna catch as catch can, she’s gonna grind Gracie’s bones to make her bread!

TODD: That’s giants, Bama! Not witches!

The Witch keeps moving. Snap Suplex, rolls through, Running Bulldog, then drags Gracie up by the hair, whispering something venomous before smashing him face-first into the mat with a DDT.

Gracie pushes up to his knees, blinking hard. The Witch backs into the corner, shielding herself from the referee’s view for half a second as she discreetly uncorks the Vial of Vanishing Vapor, wafting it toward Gracie.

Gracie sways, clutching his temples.

TODD: The Witch is in the driver’s seat and Gracie looks disoriented!

BAMA: For the first time since we’ve seen Gracie, his faith is looking a little shaken! He believes in pain… but pain is being thrust upon him!

The Witch snarls, putting away her vial… As Gracie takes a deep breath, centering his mind…

TODD: Is Gracie entering a meditative state? Is he perhaps… praying?

BAMA: In just a moment, he’ll be begging for mercy from that ol’ Wicked Witch!

The Witch charges at her opponent on his knees…

Suddenly! Fwip! Gracie leaps to his feet!

And BAM! Witch runs straight into a Raised Knee. The impact snaps her head back violently!

In a flash, Gracie leaps from his knees to his feet, immediately following with a Big Boot that knocks her sideways, then grabs her by the arm and hammers her chest with open-handed chops, each one punctuated by a thunderous stomp!

TODD: holy COW! Gracie’s putting a hurting on that Witch!

He wraps his arms around her in a Smiling Bearhug, squeezing tighter and tighter. The Witch claws at his back, shrieking in rage as her feet leave the mat.

TODD: He’s crushing her!

BAMA: Like a woman accused of being a witch getting crushed under rocks!

TODD: As happened at the Salem Witch trials!

The Witch crawls across the mat, looking worse for wear… Gracie slowly stalks behind her… savoring the fact that his opponent is in profound pain…

TODD: I get Gracie loves seeing his opponent in agony, Bama… But I think he wants to take advantage sooner rather than later!

BAMA: Absolutely, Todd! You play with your food too long, you risk it’s gonna grow teeth and bite you first!

As Gracie advances, the Witch discreetly grips the Charm of the Crone’s Grip...

When Gracie reaches down, she suddenly explodes upward to her feet!

TODD: The Witch recovers!

Gracie covers his head with a guard… but in response, Witch simply muscles him off his feet into a powerslam grip!

BACKBREAKER!

A SECOND!

A THIRD!

TODD: Holy cow! This witch must deadlift!

BAMA: Cuz she’s trying to lift Gracie so hard it makes him dead!

She hauls him up again, hooks the head, and spikes him with a vicious DDT. She sprawls atop him, pressing her forearm across his throat.

One!

TWO!

GRACIE KICKS OUT!

This time, The Witch is stalking Gracie, preparing for a decapitating boot to the holy man, currently rising onto his knees…

Gracie rises as the Witch charges again.

He surprises her, blasting her with a Stiff-Arm Clothesline, nearly folding her inside out. He hauls her up into a Fireman’s Carry, leans his head close to hers, lips moving silently—

Then dumps her throat-first across the top turnbuckle.

The Witch collapses, gagging, clutching her neck as Gracie stands over her, breathing deeply.

Gracie drags her up and whips her hard into the ropes. On the rebound, he charges forward and detonates Consecration, his knee smashing into her face mid-stride.

She flips backward and lands flat. Gracie drops to one knee beside her, hands clasped, eyes closed, murmuring a prayer as the crowd boos mercilessly.

Todd: This is worship to him.
Bama: …Both these competitors fucking weird me out, Toddrick.

The Witch staggers upright, swinging wildly. Gracie steps inside the strike, his massive hand engulfing her face—

Gracious Baptism.

TODD: THAT OUGHTA DO IT!

BAMA: It’d take a miracle from a higher power for the Witch to still be in this one!

He lifts her off the mat by her skull and drives her down with brutal finality. He hooks the leg.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

…

……

NO!

Her black boot slams onto the bottom rope.

The referee breaks the count.

TODD: No way!

BAMA: The Witch ain’t done yet! She got slammed like a house got dropped on her and she’s still got some tricks left up her sleeve!

Gracie raises his arms, looking triumphant, glorifying his god of anguish…

When the official directs him to The Witch’s boot on the ropes!

Gracie stumbles backward, eyes wide, hands shaking as he mutters about disbelief and corruption.

Gracie nods to himself, steels his breathing, and hauls her up again.

He reaches for her face—

The Witch snaps to life. She mirrors his grip perfectly, twisting his wrist, sliding her palm across his face in exact imitation.

Todd: Wait—

Glorious Baptism.

BAMA: What the hell!?!

TODD: We saw this on Warfare! The Witch just stole Abel Gracie’s finisher!

She lifts him with mocking precision and slams him into the mat using his own technique. She collapses across his chest, laughing breathlessly.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

Winner: The Wicked Witch of Professional Wrestling

The Witch rises, clutching at her chest as if sealing invisible essence into a vial, while Abel Gracie lies still beneath the lights—eyes open, lips moving in a prayer that found no answer tonight.

TODD: And now time for something a little different. Mixed of course, with something very familiar.

BAMA: Centurion has been around forever! And this… Ennui the Clown… is making their debut.

TODD: What a win it would be for Ennui to knock off the living legend in his first match. Meanwhile, the veteran has a chance to make a triumphant statement en route to his Television Title match at Snow Pain Snow Gain!

Centurion enters to a raucous ovation from the Michiganders, nodding in thanks as he makes his way to the ring.

https://youtu.be/WT8t3i8CkMQ?si=5AfbqdhnDtg_Wkdw

A small car begins to honk its way down to the ring.

When it stops at ringside, another honk blares and clowns begin spewing out of it. One… two… three… they keep coming! 10 clowns in total, all women, file out. Then they pop the boot and drag out the largest clown of them all—Ennui himself!

The clownettes roll Ennui into the ring and he… doesn't stand up.

TODD: Look at this state of affairs, Bama! All of these clown lumberjacks are immensely loyal to Ennui! It's a tough hill for Centurion to climb.

BAMA: Did you know he met them at clown college? Hey–I think that one's flirting with me!

Todd shakes his head as the action turns to the ring.

CENTURION
- vs -
ENNUI THE CLOWN
Singles

As the bell rings, Centurion regards the troupe of lady clowns at ringside with a mix of bewilderment and ire. Ennui remains lying on the ground. Centurion looks to the referee for guidance, who shrugs at the situation.

TODD: A very unorthodox start to the match for Ennui the Clown here.

BAMA: Cent might be a hundred years old but I'm not sure even he has encountered something like this.!

Cautiously Cent approaches, but when Ennui still doesn’t move, Centurion darts in with an elbow to the clown's back. In spite of the tooting and honking at ringside, Cent keeps up the assault barraging Ennui with blow after blow. Eventually, the referee steps in and pulls Cent back much to his chagrin.

The ref asks Ennui if he's okay, and he merely replies “I guess…”

He then asks if he wants to continue and gets the same response: “I guess…”

The match resumes, but at least the clown finally gets to his feet. The only expression on his face is the one that's painted on.

BAMA: This clown's a big guy, Todd! Especially compared to Centurion.

TODD: Cent's been through enough bizarre battles in his career to not just rush in. But he's survived enough of those weird wars to not be intimidated either.

Centurion engages, using his vast wrestling experience to slip behind Ennui and catch him with a double leg takedown.

That was a mistake though, as Ennui makes himself comfortable and settles back onto the ground.

Centurion rolls his eyes and decides not to let up, stomping on the clown's limbs until an arm flails up that he can snatch into an armbar. Ennui is pretty close to the edge of the ring and one of the clownettes at ringside grabs his other hand and hangs it on the ropes before much damage can be done. Cent breaks the hold and the ref admonishes the lady clown.

TODD: The ref might not be happy but in lumberjack rules, there's not much he can do about the clowns around the ring doing what they think their job is.

Centurion kicks away at the ringside clowns to make space and uses the ropes for leverage as he drops a knee across Ennui's throat. With Ennui still not moving, Cent drags him towards the centre of the ring hoping to end this early.

Suddenly Ennui snaps upwards and grabs Centurion in a small package!

1…

2…

3—KICKOUT!

TODD: OH MY GOD! With his first offensive move in the XWF, Ennui the Clown just about upset an XWF Legend!

Wide-eyed with surprise, and with Ennui getting to his feet, Cent opts to pick up the pace.

Elbow strikes to the clown's head are followed up with quick kicks to his legs and then a standing dropkick that rockets Ennui into the corner. Cent is relentless, continuing the strikes in the corner now and using pace to keep the big guy out of the game.

After driving his shoulder into Ennui's abdomen several times, Cent switches again, this time delivering a knife edge chop. In the process, he clips a flower pinned to Ennui's chest and it shoots water out into Cent's face!

BAMA: I guess we should have expected that…

Cent looks a little flabbergasted but shrugs it off and charges with a corner splash. Ennui uses Cent's momentum to power him up and over the corner post, all the way to the outside!

Cent lands hard.

As he recovers, the clowns around him swarm. As experienced as he is, Cent still doesn't fancy his odds and he quickly ducks back into the ring to avoid them.

TODD: Wise move by Cent there.

BAMA: Wise… or cowardly?

TODD: Oh come on, Bama! Definitely wise.

He's met right away by the laziest biel toss anyone has ever seen. The lack of effort actually makes it hard for Cent to land well, and so he scrambles awkwardly to his feet only to find the massive Ennui looming over him. Ennui starts clubbing away at Cent who retreats to the ropes.

But the edge of the ring isn't a safe place.

BAMA: Here be clowns!

Cent sees their painted smiles and ducks back again only to be scooped up in a fireman's carry by Ennui and then just… dropped.

Cent lands awkwardly again and one of the ringside clowns hands a long balloon to Ennui.

TODD: It looks like Ennui is creating some sort of balloon animal?

BAMA: That's not an animal, Todd!

In the middle of the ring, Ennui twists the balloon into a noose!

TODD: He's going to strange Cent with that balloon noose!

That's too much for the ref to allow, as he rips the balloon animal from Ennui's hands.

The clowns at ringside honk up a storm in protest. Many climb up onto the ringside apron and as the referee orders some of them down, others pop up.

Ennui whips Cent towards the ropes and one of the clowns yanks the top rope down causing Cent to tumble over to the outside.

Clowns swarm.

TODD: Uh oh.

BAMA: This circus is starting to feel like it might turn into a horror movie for Centurion!

One clown begins to juggle bowling pins, and then starts hurling them at Cent! They hit!

As Centurion reels, another clown crawls down on their hands and knees and hides behind him. A bike horn startles Cent and he trips backwards over the grounded clown!

He falls… onto a whoopee cushion!

The clowns all play it off like a geriatric accident and wave away the pongs of Cent's ‘gas.’

More balloons appear. These ones are fashioned into swords which start wailing away on Centurion.

TODD: The numbers game is coming into play! Centurion is at the absolute mercy of these clowns!

BAMA: …It's just balloons though. They shouldn't be hurting him.

TODD: Oh yeah…

Cent seems to recognise this just as Todd does.

He just stands up as the clowns keep wailing away, looks from one to the next and…

POW! Centurion starts laying into each of them with right hand after right hand.

Centurion is clearing house! The clowns can't do much about it and in the ring Ennui can't be bothered to help!

Suddenly, a clown whacks Centurion in the head with an oversized shoe and Cent drops!

The clowns roll a dazed Centurion back into the ring and as the referee focuses back on the in-ring action, the clown with the shoe shows off for the crowd. From the shoe that she whacked Cent with, she pulls out a brick!

TODD: Oh no… that damn clown played the biggest trick yet!

The effects on Centurion are clear. He groggily tries to stand and Ennui blasts him with a big boot of his own.

TODD: Centurion's got a Case of the Blahs!

Cent crumbles and Ennui lies down on him.

1…

2…

3—NO! Shoulder up!

Ennui rolls right over Centurion’s face as he gets off. Cent howls at the weight on his face.

Ironically, it gives Cent a bit of an adrenaline boost that helps him to his own feet and gives him the needed spark that when Ennui tries to set him up for The Doldrums, Cent snaps Ennui's legs out and flips over him for a bridging pin.

1…

2…

KICKOUT!

They both rise and the crowd rallies behind Centurion.

He ducks another Case of the Blahs and responds with a V-Trigger.

And another!

And another!

Ennui stays standing!

TODD: What will it take to knock this inhuman freak down?

BAMA: That's offensive. Just because he's an actual alien, that doesn't make him a freak.

TODD: Oh would you stop?

A Bloody Symphony finally does the trick!

Ennui is down!

Centurion covers.

1…

2…

KICKOUT!

With Ennui reeling, the clowns at ringside honk up a storm again. They begin climbing the ring apron and there's too many for the ref to deal with.

One of them swings a giant rubber mallet at Centurion!

But he wrestles it away from them!

With an oversized hammer in hand, Centurion clears out the clowns once more until all that's left is the clown who had walloped him with a loaded shoe!

They've got a cream pie!

BAMA: I LOVE CREAM PIES!

They swing the pie at Centurion!

Who ducks!

Ennui gets pied!

The devious pie-wielding lady clown gets whacked with the hammer by Centurion who then turns his attention to the cream-covered Ennui!

1000 Mile Slam!

Then, Cent locks him straight into the Fall of Rome!

The referee is in perfect position to see how Ennui responds!

“Do you give up?”

[red“...I guess.”[/red]

And the referee calls for the bell!

Winner: Centurion

Centurion drops the giant legs of Ennui and celebrates as the referee raises his hand.

Meanwhile, all of Ennui's clown friends carry him back to the car and stuff him back in.

Backstage, XWF co-owner Elon Musk is seen walking with three assistants, who are all furiously typing into their phones as he speaks. As they walks down the hallway, they stop in front of a door that says "Anarchy GM" on it. Musk puts one hand on the door handle as he talks to his assistants.

Musk: Ok, I'm going to take all of this into my meeting with Mr. Lichter. One of you text me with the short version of our conversation so I know what I'm talking about when...

The faint sound of pounding against metal can be heard from inside the room, which causes Musk to quickly open the door. He looks around the GM office to find...

nobody.

However, the sound of pounding metal and muffled yelling is even louder, which causes Musk and the assistants to investigate further. After a few seconds, the sound is traced to a set of lockers sitting in the very back of the room. Musk and the others quickly run to the locker and open it, revealing GM Dick Lichter stuffed inside.

Lichter: Guah! Hah! Thank you, I couldn't breathe in there!

[color-"green"]Musk: What were you doing in there?[/color]

Lichter: It was that prick Centurion! He came in here all aggressive like, and when I told him to get out of my office, he stuffed me in the locker! Like I was a kid in grad school or something!

Musk looks at his assistants, who all seem horrified.

Musk: This is horrible. Something must be done...

Lichter: You're right, something MUST be done...but it's your turn to deal with him! He knows you gave the order to humiliate him, he said it to me himself. He said he was going to continue to harass me until you speak with him personally.

Musk angerly looks at Lichter before pointing at him in the chest.

Musk: You were brought in to take care of these things, remember? You were given this show because I'm a friend of your cousin's and he said this is something you could handle. Now if he was WRONG about that, I can go find someone else to do it...

Lichter: No, no, I can take care of it. I'll just need some more resources. Some contacts. And some money.

Musk looks back at his assistants before snapping his fingers.

Musk: Consider it done.

BAMA: Hot damn, baby! Have you ever seen Mister Oz get packed up like that recently? 36 is on fire in that ring!

TODD: 36 is in control right now, but that might not last for long as we get set for the second stage here tonight! Oz wanted three matches, he’s got his chance to push this to a third match!

DING! DING! DING!

36 takes his time coming to his feet, taking a deep breath as he fully collects himself, but as he turns around, he turns STRAIGHT INTO A CLOTHESLINE FROM MISTER OZ!

BAMA: Oz just exploded up off of the mat! I don’t think he took that loss too kindly!

TODD: And he’s got some no doubt evil intentions here. 36 is the leader in this series so far, but he can’t afford to rest on his laurels, or else Oz can tie things up at a moment’s notice by sending 36 through a table!

36 uses the ropes to pull himself back to his feet once more, but Oz is right there. A big clubbing knee to the gut sends 36 back into the corner. Oz looks to quickly press his advantage, but the smaller and quicker 36 darts himself out of harm’s way!

And now he’s looking to bring the fight to Oz! Rights and lefts! Upstairs, downstairs! He’s quickly forcing Oz to have to cover up to try and prevent himself from taking any more damage in this match!

36 leaps for a Hurricanrana- CAUGHT BY OZ! 36’S FACE PALES AS HE REALIZES HE’S IN TROUBLE!

TODD: Oz putting that freakish strength on display! 36 is like a lawn dart right now!

BAMA: He’s about to get thrown like one, too!

36 quickly rains down more punches onto Oz’s skull, but it’s not stopping Oz as he runs towards the ropes!

But 36 quickly springs into action! He drags himself back while grabbing onto the top rope, vaulting Oz over the top rope and sending him tumbling down onto the floor as he grits his teeth!

BAMA: That’s some smart thinking by 36!

TODD: Now he’s got to try to capitalize here, though! He could end this match right now if he just manages to put Oz through a table!

Oz turns around, but 36 is running along the apron! A running kick to the skull drives the man back, staggering across ringside! That gives 36 just enough opening to JUMP OFF THE ROPES TO HIT A MOONSAULT ONTO MISTER OZ!

TODD: I talked a bit about Mister Oz’s abnormal strength, how about 36’s abnormal agility? Because he just pulled off one of the most crisp moonsaults I’ve ever seen!

BAMA: That boy’s got a fire lit under his soul, baby! Look at the man work!

36 wastes no time as he comes right back up to his feet! He takes a quick look right underneath the ring, before FINALLY pulling out a table! The fans pop like crazy as he sets it up around ringside, before forcing Oz right back to his feet and drapes the big man across it!

And he manages to perch Oz across the table! 36 is starting to feed off of the fans’ energy as he tries to roll his way back into the ring!

BAMA: Ozzie better perk up soon! If he loses this stage of the match, that Revolution Championship is as good as gone!!

Mister Oz manages to bring himself back up to his feet with gusto, grabbing 36 by the ankle and dragging him down and out of the ring! 36 quickly tries to throw a punch, but Oz grabs the man in a death hug before throwing him down onto the floor with a belly-to-belly!

BAMA: Look at that boy fly!

TODD: You give Oz an inch, he’ll take a mile. But 36 is still in this match in spite of that fact…

Oz tries to put this match to rest! He hoists up 36 into the Spinebuster position, eager to try and throw him through the wood! He starts to saunter towards the table…

BUT 36 CINCHES IN A CHOKE OUT OF NOWHERE! HE’S COUNTERED THE SPINEBUSTER AND NOW HE’S TRYING TO CHOKE THE LIFE OUT OF THE XTREME CHAMP!

BAMA: Does that boy know the Submission match is meant to be the third stage?

TODD: I think he knows that well, Bama, but if he can stop Oz’s assault here, it’ll leave him in prime position to put him through the table!

Oz is forced down to a knee! 36 is slaying the beast right before the fans’ eyes as they will him on!

BEFORE OZ ROCKETS FORWARD TO DRIVE 36 INTO THE METAL GUARDRAIL! 36 GROANS BUT HE’S STILL GOT THE HOLD CINCHED IN!

OZ HOISTS 36 UP AGAIN! HE’S LOOKING TO GO FOR THAT SPINEBUSTER AGAIN! 36 CINCHES IN THE CHOKE HARDER, BUT OZ IS MOVING!

SPINEBUSTERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR-

36 PLANTS HIS FEET ON THE TABLE!

HE JUMPS OFF!

TORNADO DDT ONTO THE FLOOR SENDS OZ FLYING NOW!

TODD: Neither one of these men are going to give up, but no matter what Mister Oz throws at 36, he’s finding a way to battle through it!

BAMA: You ask me, baby, I think all those repeated matches are catching up to Ozzie.

36 manages to force himself back to his feet, and the exhaustion is starting to settle in now. Oz is already on all fours, and he knows he’s got to work fast here before this gets out of hand. He looks to try to Irish Whip Oz into the table…

But Oz isn’t budging! He’s like a bulldog trying to stand his ground right now, and he’s too big and strong for 36 to throw him around! He shakes his head at 36 before Oz Irish Whips him right back in return, this time into the steel steps!

WHAM!

36’s body cracks into the steel steps, echoing around the building! The fans wince as he holds onto his ribs precariously, getting banged up more and more in this match!

Oz takes a deep breath, collecting himself as he slowly pushes himself upright. He walks over past the steps, ready to end this…

…

But 36 is missing?

TODD: Oz didn’t see it because he was taking too long! 36 rolled underneath the ring!

BAMA: There it is again, baby, that’s that smart thinking!

Oz is utterly baffled as he looks around, trying to see where 36 could have gone! Now it’s he who’s looking underneath the ring, but there’s no sign of him!

Oz comes back to his feet, BUT HE DOESN’T SEE 36 PICKING UP THE TABLE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE RING! HE RUNS ALONG THE APRON-

AND BULLDOGS THE TABLE RIGHT INTO OZ’S BACK TO WIPE HIM OUT!

TODD: WOW! That’s some ingenuity with the weapon right there!

BAMA: Desperate times call for desperate solutions baby! That might have taken Oz out of the picture!

36 can’t waste even a single moment as he forces himself back to his feet once more! Adrenaline fuels him, the crowd chanting for him demands he give it his all as he assembles the table up at ringside! And he manages to force Oz to lie down on the table, the big man still out of it!

36 rolls into the ring! He’s lining up his mark… BEFORE HE SPRINGBOARDS OFF THE ROPES!

FLIPS IN THE AIR!

KICKS HIS LEGS OUT INTO A LEG DROP!

TO HIT THE FINAL COUNTDOWN ON OZ THROUGH THE TABLE!

BAMA: That Shooting Star Press was a work of art, baby!

TODD: And it was Oz’s Final Countdown as 36 secures the win!

WINNER and STILL Revolution Champion: XXXVI!

The referee rushes out to the wreckage at ringside, draping the Revolution title over 36’s battered body before he raises his hand high!

TODD: Folks, this is a very atypical match you’re about to witness! Micheal Graves challenged ‘Spoiled’ Summer Page to a match on Anarchy! Perhaps a little tune-up before his Anarchy Title match at Snow Pain, Snow Gain against Kristoffer Arroyo…

BAMA: Although Graves wanted a lingerie pillow fight against Summer and… this is NOT that.

S&M By Rhianna will play throughout the arena as the crowd cheers while Summer walks down the aisle. Summer gets to the ring side and walks up the ring stairs.

TODD: Summer Page is one of the brightest, most dominant stars on Thursday nights!

BAMA: She’s also been gunning for that Anarchy title since day one!

TODD: You gotta imagine she’s eager to climb back into the title hunt, Bama. And what better way could she do it than scoring a win over the #1 contender to the Anarchy Title tonight!

BAMA: Not only that! But she’d have a victory over the longest reigning Anarchy champion of all-time! Micheal Graves had that belt for over a year!

TODD: …Bama, I don’t know how to tell you this but… that Micheal Graves wasn’t….

…

TODD: Ugh, never mind.

Summer looks out at the crowd and raises her arms out to the crowd as the crowd cheers louder.

Summer turns her attention to inside the ring where she motions to the referee to open the bottom and middle ropes so they can enter. Summer walks over to the closest ring corner and climbs up to the middle turnbuckle.

…

Green lasers scatter across the stage.

Graves steps through the curtain. His head tilts, his jaw clenches, and he just stands there long enough to make the crowd feel uncomfortable.

The drums kick in.

The lights sweep the arena in a blast of lime and purple.

Graves lazily starts down the ramp.

Fans reach out, but he pretends not to notice them.

The cameras catch quick cuts on the XTron of Graves smashing faces, laughing mid-beating, spraying mist, weapons, blood, ugly mayhem.

TODD: And there he is! Micheal Graves! The Dark Warrior!

BAMA: After making a miraculous recovery from the concussion that ended his year-long Anarchy Title reign!

TODD: …right. Graves has… possibly drawn the ire of ‘Big’ Dick Lichter, Anarchy’s General Manager… because he’s going to be forced tonight to compete in… well, you’ll see in just a second folks…

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.

[blue]TODD: Ladies and gentlemen, we are scheduled for singles action here on Thursday Night Anarchy—
BAMA: Scheduled, Todd, but I don’t think the lunatic in the ring is exactly… equipped to begin.

The bell doesn’t ring.

The official stands in front of Micheal Graves, arms crossed, pointing emphatically at the silver, medieval-looking chastity belt dangling from the referee’s hands.

Todd: It appears the referee is refusing to start the match until Micheal Graves complies with the General Manager’s… stipulation.
Bama: I can’t believe I’m sayin’ this on television, but that man is bein’ told to lock it up for public safety.

Graves loses his mind.

He paces. He screams. He drops to a knee and howls at the ceiling like a rejected supervillain.

He holds the belt at arm’s length like it’s poison to his eyes…

TODD: Gravy’s acting like that chastity belt is radioactive!

BAMA: Not even, Toddrick, I think Graves would rather have his nards exposed to radioactive fallout than even have a moment where he ain’t got full access to hs junk!

The crowd roars with laughter as Graves squints furiously at this belt…

Summer Page leans back in her corner, arms folded, smirking like she ordered this humiliation personally.

TODD: Summer Page seems perfectly content to let this circus play out.

BAMA: She’s enjoyin’ this way too much, Todd.

TODD: I think given the fact that she’s a legitimate competitor and Graves tried to challenge her to a lingerie pillow fight, she’s enjoying this a perfect valid amount…

Finally—furious, muttering, and defeated by bureaucracy—Graves straps the belt on.

The ref checks it.

The bell rings.

SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
MICHEAL GRAVES

CHASTITY MATCH!

It’s just a normal singles match, but Micheal Graves must wear a chastity belt because I DON’T TRUST HIM!!!

[amatch]HIGHLIGHT REEL

The moment the bell rings, we’re off!

Graves charges forward with wild intent…

…Oooh, but he’s not as fast… he pinches the underside of his tights, trying to free up some room…

TODD: I think that chastity belt is working like a boot on a car! Gravy’s got no get up and go!

BAMA: Probably because with that belt on he can’t get it up!

Gravy tries to throw a clothesline on Summer… But she seemingly effortlessly dodges it… and Gravy almost loses his footing from a simple lariat!

TODD: Gravy moving with the agility of a pregnant cow out there!

Summer darts in and SNAPS a Snap Suplex, floating over with a quick cover.

ONE!

Graves kicks out!

TODD: I don’t think we knew this about Graves but apparently chastity belts are his kryptonite!

Graves swings a heavy-handed bitch slap—Summer ducks and fires back with a High Knee, snapping his head back.

Graves tries to retaliate with a Big Boot…

—but the moment his leg comes up, The belt shoots up and cinches right under his… family jewels!

TODD: oooooooh

BAMA: ooooooouch

Crowd: OOOOOOOOOOF

Gravy winces, staggers, and clutches his midsection, gritting his teeth in agony, holding onto the ropes…

Page impatiently taps her foot…

Gravy takes a deep breath… still trying to pull the belt to find some position that isn’t digging right into his manhood…

He sighs, nodding, ready to get back to i-

WHAM!

SUMMER SPEARS HIM CLEAN OUT OF HIS BOOTS.

She pops up instantly, hair flying, and grins at the hard cam.

[blue]TODD: Summer Page taking full advantage of Graves being… mechanically compromised.
BAMA: That thing’s chafin’, weighin’ him down, throwin’ his balance off—he’s a mess!

TODD: Graves, possibly trying to buy himself a little time to get his head on straight here…

Graves drops to the mat, trying to roll under the bottom rope to regroup…

But the belt snags on the bottom rope!

TODD: Oh my God!

BAMA: That belt might have a mind of its own and that mind fucking HATES Micheal Graves!

Graves desperately tries to scamper, not realizing he’s caught on the ropes..

In a snap, Summer pulls him back inside the ring by the boot, before ripping him off the mat and into a front-facelock…

WHAM! Slingshot suplex! Graves hits the mat so hard he rebounds back to his feet, where Summer’s waiting for him with a…

SPOILED ROTTEN! (Backstabber!)

TODD: That just might do it! This would be a judge upset!

Summer goes for the cover on Graves!

ONE!

TWO!

THR-NO! Graves kicks out!

TODD: Graves somehow finds a way to force his shoulder off the mat!

BAMA: Probably because there’s not a chastity belt on his shoulders, Toddrick! If you put a chastity belt on Graves’s chest, I think he’d stop breathing!

TODD: Graves still isn’t quite out of the starting block, but at the very least, he’s starting to try and chain moves together!

Summer latches Graves into a waistlock!

But Graves throws a desperation back elbow, catching Summer in the side of the head!

Summer looks dazed… Graves hitches her off her feet into powerslam position…

FALLAWAY SLAM!

…

But with the chastity belt, he can’t get any torque on the throw! He collapses backward under his own lack of momentum!

Summer’s on top! The official counts!

ONE!

TWO!

THRE-Graves kicks out!

TODD: I think Graves just gave himself a cross-body using Summer Page’s body!

BAMA: Not how I think Graves wishes that Page was on top of him!

TODD: Summer smells blood in the water! She’s looking to finish it!

Graves slowly rises up to his feet… as Summer Page is in the corner, tuning up the band!

Graves turns around… Just in time for Summer to fire off a…

TOTAL KNOCKOUT! (Superkick!)

…

Dodged! Somehow, Graves finds it in himself to duck the kick! Summer’s boot sails past!

TODD: Graves manages to survive!

Graves wraps Summer in a waistlock… Summer grabs the top rope, pulling herself to the edge of the ring… The official barks at Graves to break the hold, but Graves won’t let go!

TODD: Graves might be trying to get DQ’d!

BAMA: Or he might just be enjoying touching Summer before she knocks him unconscious!

Summer gets irritated and launches a low blow backwards to Graves!

CLANG.

The arena goes silent for half a second.

Then—

CRACK.

The chastity belt SHATTERS, pieces clattering across the mat.

TODD: THE BELT JUST BROKE!

BAMA: OH LORD—SHE DONE UNLOCKED HIM!

Graves freezes.

Looks down.

Looks up.

Then he smiles.

A wide, unhinged, liberated grin.

TODD: Holy cow! This match has turned around in what feels like an instant!

Graves EXPLODES.

Headbutt.
Backfist.
Heavy-handed bitch slap that echoes through the building.

Summer staggers—

NECK BREAKER.

Graves is moving differently now. Faster. Meaner.

He drags her up—

INVERTED DDT.

…No! Summer manages to twist out and go for a rollup!

ONE!

TWO!

THR-Graves kicks out!

Summer scrambles up to her feet… Straight into Graves’ arms

He hoists Page high.

GRAVES CONSEQUENCES.

TODD: Oh my God!

BAMA: Couldn’t have done that while chastised!

Graves folds her in half and hooks the leg.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

Winner: MIcheal Graves

Todd: Micheal Graves wins it! A strong win headed into his match for the Anarchy Title!
Bama: But how will ‘Big’ Dick Lichter feel about Graves finding a way around his stipulation! What kind of match will Graves meet Kristoffer Arroyo in at Snow Pain, Snow Gain!

The bell rings and the referee raises Micheal Graves hand!

TODD: "He overcomes the stipulation to pick up the win over Summer Page!"

BAMA T: "Graves gets the dub, baby!"

RING ANNOUNCER: "Your winner of this Chastity Match—MICHEAL GRAAAAAVES!"

Graves snatches his arm away from the ref and turns toward the announcer.

Graves lunges and catches him with a vicious right to the gut that doubles him over! Graves then takes the microphone out of his hand and paces around him, seemingly enjoying the suffering. Then without warning, a brutal knee to the face sends the poor bastard flying between the ropes and to the outside!

TODD: "That's going to be a huge fine, Mr. Graves!"

BAMA T: "I don't think he cares, Todd!"

The crowd boos as Graves paces the ring breathing heavily. He adjusts the chastity belt that's still locked on over his gear, before finally speaking into the mic.

"Cut the music... CUT IT!"

It cuts.

Graves leans over the ropes, staring daggers up the ramp.

"Vamp boy! You sittin' back there polishin' that Anarchy belt, thinkin' you're some kinda untouchable sadistic prince? I just beat Summer Page with this goddamn cage locked around my dick because some paranoid dick licker pullin' the strings doesn't trust ME not to sodomize the pretty lady on television...

At 'Snow Pain, Snow Gain', I'm comin' for that belt, Kris. And when I get my hands on you in that frozen hellhole that is Antarctica, ain't gonna be no cage preventing me from sodomizing your ass until you bite your own tongue off. I'm gonna make you bleed prettier than any of your little Teatro Grottesco knee parties, cause ain't nobody more tormented than me, until this night that is, andwhen I'm done with you, that Anarchy title'll be comin' home with the real violence-loving monster on Anarchy—ME!"

—THUD—

Graves stumbles back, but doesn't go down. Instead he roars in frustration and charges, tackling Kris through the ropes and sending them both spilling to the floor!

TODD: "Somebody get security out here quick! These two are gonna kill each other before we ever make it to Snow Pain, Snow Gain!"

Graves snatches the steel steps and hurls them all his might into Kris’s ribs.

BAMA T: "Oh, baby, that HAD to hurt!"

The champ drops, but places a hand on the steps, and on Graves follow-through, he rams them straight into Gravy’s gut, then across the back—CLANG!

Graves doesn't stay down long, and soon both men are up and swinging wild!

TODD: "IT'S AN ALL-OUT BRAWL!"

Graves grabs a chair and cracks it over Kris’s spine. Kris eats it, rips the chair away from Graves, and folds it around Graves’ skull. Graves staggers back and drops to a knee with blood streaming down his mask. Kris approaches to finish him off, but Graves pops back up and powerbombs Kris outta nowhere!

But No!

Kris slips free, sliding down Graves back. Graves turns to face him, but Kris latches on, sinking his fangs into Gravy's neck!

TODD: "Is he... IS HE BITING HIM!?"

Kris recoils and shoves Graves away. He arches in agony and doubles over, spitting out blood as Graves dives under the ring and yanks out a barbed wire board.

Graves douses the board in lighter fluid, strikes a match off his boot, and ignites the weapon, holding it high as it's flames reach for the ceiling!

BAMA T: "Oh baby, things are about to get a whole lot worse for the champ!"

Suddenly, the locker room empties as refs and staff flood the ramp!

Graves swings the board right into Kris's gut as staff begins pulling, dragging, and separating them. They continue to claw and swing over the pile of bodies holding them back, but there's just too many staff to overcome.

TODD: "Thank goodness security finally broke this up, or we'd be heading to 'Snow Pain, Snow Gain' without a champion OR a challenger!"

Graves gets hauled backward up the ramp as blood pours from under his mask and neck.

BAMA T: "These two monsters just tried to kill each other, baby! No matter who walks away champion, I think Anarchy ain't gonna be the same after Antarctica!"

Kris is held back at ringside, spitting blood and screaming at Graves.

TODD: "You're right about that, BAMA!"

The feed cuts hard to commercial.

The arena is already in a state of controlled madness as the lights dim.

Todd: “Ladies and gentlemen… it is time for the MAIN EVENT of Anarchy!”

Bama T: “Two champions. Two challengers. One ladder. And about twenty different people who absolutely should not be allowed within a hundred feet of this ring!”

Above the squared circle, the Tag Team Championships hang from steel cables, swaying slightly in the stale heat of the arena. Ladders are already stacked at ringside. The crowd buzzes with anticipation, the kind that only comes when everybody knows something ugly is about to happen.

The house lights cut completely.

A low, droning tone rolls through the speakers. The screens flicker with distorted imagery: static, fractured symbols, silhouettes writhing in slow motion.

Then—

The champions emerge.

Clutch Cassidy strides through the curtain first, rolling his shoulders, eyes scanning the arena like a general surveying a battlefield. The Tag Team Championship glints over her shoulder.

Beside her stands Samael Dyson.

The reaction is immediate and hostile.

The crowd doesn’t boo so much as recoil. Sam’s eyes are cold, distant, like he’s already watching something the rest of the world can’t see. The second championship rests against his chest, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of the gold plate as though it were something alive.

Todd: “The champions have arrived… and if anyone in this building thinks tonight will be business as usual, you have not been paying attention.”

They enter the ring, Clutch climbing the ropes and raising his title with a grim nod. Sam simply stands in the center, staring upward at the belts hanging above, lips moving in a silent murmur.

The music cuts.

Suddenly, the arena lights flare gold.

Trumpets blare through the sound system as the video wall ignites with royal imagery—banners, crests, a crown descending in slow motion. The stage becomes a procession.

And then comes Kieran King.

Draped in regal arrogance, Universal Champion at his waist, Kieran steps out with the confidence of a ruler who has never once doubted his authority. Behind him, flanking the ramp in formation, march the Kingsguard—row after row of uniformed enforcers, each one identical in presentation.

At the front: Kingsguard #6 and Kingsguard #7.

They stop at the base of the ramp.

Kieran doesn’t look at the ring at first. He looks at the crowd—at the champions—at the titles above the ring.

Then he smiles.

Todd: “And here comes the self-proclaimed king of this company… and the army he brought with him.”

Bama T: “This is not a tag team. This is a regime!”

The challengers enter the ring. The referee calls for the belts, holds them high, then hands them off to be attached above. Around the ring, the Kingsguard tighten their formation, creating a living barricade on all four sides.

Clutch and Sam exchange a glance.

The bell rings.

CLUTCH CASSIDY© & SAMAEL DYSON©
- vs -
KINGSGUARD #6 & KINGSGUARD #7
w/ Kieran King at ringside!

LADDER MATCH!

The Anarchy Tag Team Championships will be on the line!

Kingsguard #6 steps forward first, methodical, posture straight, hands up in a disciplined stance. Kingsguard #7 circles wide, measuring Clutch with predatory patience.

Clutch meets #6 in the center, collar-and-elbow, the two grinding for position. #6’s strength is immediately apparent—driving Clutch backward with raw force. Clutch plants her foot, pivots, and snaps #6 down with a crisp arm drag.

#7 rushes in—only for Sam to intercept him with a sudden, snapping kick to the ribs.

Todd: “Right out of the gate—no feeling out process here!”

Sam follows with a second kick, then a third, each one landing with surgical precision. #7 stumbles back into the ropes. Sam grabs him by the wrist and whips him across—#7 rebounds and gets dropped by a spinning back elbow.

Clutch, meanwhile, is already on top of #6, wrenching the arm and grinding him into the mat.

Bama T: “The champions are controlling the pace. That’s what tag-team experience looks like.”

The Kingsguard regroup quickly. #6 shoves Clutch off and then works with #7 to rush Sam—double shoulder block, driving him into the corner.

#6 follows up with a corner splash. #7 follows with a rising knee. Sam drops to one knee. #6 drags him out of the corner and plants him with a short-arm spinebuster.

Clutch storms in to break it up—only to be cut off by #7, who floors her with a running forearm!

The challengers stand tall, momentarily.

They glance up at the titles.

And the first ladder slides into the ring, courtesy of Kieran King himself.

Kingsguard #6 unfolds the ladder and sets it center-ring. #7 moves to climb—but Clutch recovers and barrels into the ladder, tipping it over.

Sam is back up, eyes locked on #6.

Sam charges—#6 swings wildly—Sam ducks, snaps off a leg kick, then another. He grabs #6’s head and drives him face-first into the ladder lying on the mat.

The metallic crack echoes through the arena!

#6 rolls out of the ring, clutching his face in pain!

Todd: “Face-first into steel!”

#7 rushes Sam again—Clutch cuts him off with a spear that folds him in half.

Clutch pops up and shouts to Sam. Together, they grab the ladder and drive it forward like a battering ram, smashing both challengers into the corner.

The crowd roars.

Clutch lifts #7 and slams him into the ladder again, this time back-first. Sam pulls #6 up and cracks him across the back with a stiff forearm, then shoves him through the ropes and out to the floor.

Sam turns.

Too late.

#7 clips his leg and sends him down.

#7 pulls another ladder into the ring—this one taller, heavier—and starts to climb.

Clutch scrambles to stop him. She grabs the ladder and rocks it violently.

#7 leaps down, tackling Clutch before she can topple it.

The two roll across the mat, trading fists.

Outside, Kingsguard #6 regains his bearings—and that’s when the numbers begin to shift.

The Kingsguard at ringside start to move.

One by one, they step toward the apron.

The referee shouts at them to back up.

But they do not!

Kingsguard #6 pulls Sam out of the ring and throws him toward the barricade. Before Sam can recover, three members of the Kingsguard converge—blows coming from every direction.

Bama T: “Here we go. This was always going to happen.”

Clutch sees it and tries to dive out to help—

But Kingsguard #7 cuts her off with a vicious forearm smash, then a snap DDT that spikes Clutch onto the mat.

Outside, the Kingsguard swarm Sam.

They shove him into the ring post. They club him to the mat. They stomp him down.

The referee threatens disqualification—but it’s a ladder match.

There is no disqualification!

Todd: “This is legal! There are no count-outs, no disqualifications—nothing to stop this!”

Inside the ring, #7 sets up the tall ladder again and starts climbing.

Clutch forces herself up, grabbing the ladder leg.

#7 stomps down on her hand.

Once. Twice.

But Clutch refuses to let go!

Then #6 slides back into the ring and hits Clutch from behind with a running knee that sends her sprawling.

#7 continues the climb.

Sam, battered and bloodied, drags himself up at ringside. Two Kingsguard members grab him—another kicks his legs out.

Sam collapses again.

The crowd starts to sense it.

The champions are being overwhelmed!

The numbers are too much!

#7 reaches near the top.

His fingertips brush the leather straps of the championships.

Todd: “This could be it!”

Bama: “We are about to have new tag-team champions!”

Suddenly—

A deep engine roar cuts through the arena.

“VROOM, VROOM!”

The entire crowd turns toward the entrance.

The massive screen above the stage shows movement in the loading bay.

Headlights flare.

A box truck backs into position at the mouth of the ramp.

Bama T: “What in the hell…?”

Todd: “What’s going on here?! Is that…is that Kristoffer Arroyo, our Anarchy Champion, behind the wheel?!”

The truck comes to a stop.

The back door rattles.

Slowly… it begins to lift.

Inside the cargo bay—shadows.

Movement.

And then—

They pour out.

Dozens of figures spill onto the stage: townspeople twisted into something sick. Their skin is mottled with unnatural swellings. Thick, dark pseudopods writhe from eyes and mouths, pulsing and twitching as if reacting to some unseen signal.

The crowd explodes into chaos—screams, shock, disbelief.

Todd: “WHAT… IS THAT?!”

Bama T: “That is NOT security! That is NOT production! That is—oh my God—”

Samael Dyson slowly rises at ringside with a sinister smirk.

He turns toward the ramp.

His eyes lock onto the creatures.

And he raises one hand.

The abominations move as one.

They surge down the ramp-

Straight toward the Kingsguard!

The Kingsguard at ringside freeze for half a second.

Then they react.

But it’s too late!

The abominations crash into them in a tidal wave of limbs and chaos. The Kingsguard scatter, striking at them, trying to retreat—but the creatures do not feel pain the way normal people do. They grab, they cling, they swarm.

The crowd erupts in horrified disbelief.

Todd: “This is absolute bedlam!”

Inside the ring, Kingsguard #7 freezes atop the ladder, staring at the scene unfolding outside.

Clutch sees the opening.

She charges and shoves the ladder.

#7 tumbles off, crashing hard onto the mat.

Sam slides back into the ring, eyes still burning with that unnatural focus.

Bama T: “Samael Dyson just evened the odds in the most horrifying way possible!”

Outside, the Kingsguard are fighting for their lives. Several are dragged down under the mass of writhing bodies. Others scramble over the barricade, trying to escape.

Kieran King backs away, disbelief written across his face.

He shouts orders.

But they are not being followed! His Kingsguard is more scared of the creatures than they are of Kieran!

Sam steps to the ropes, watching his creations at work.

But then—

Something changes.

One of the abominations turns.

Not toward the Kingsguard.

But toward the front row.

The pseudopods lash out!

Security panics!

Another creature follows.

Then another.

Dyson’s control is slipping!

Todd: “Wait—wait—these things are turning on the crowd!”

Bama T: “Samael’s lost control! This is out of control!”

Sam’s expression tightens.

For the first time all night—uncertainty.

Clutch shouts at him.

Inside the ring, #6 and #7 struggle back to their feet, shaken but alive.

They look at each other.

Then up.

At the championships.

They both see it.

The abominations can’t climb ladders.

This isn’t about domination anymore.

It’s about survival!

#7 shoves past Sam and grabs the ladder, setting it up in the ring as quickly as humanly possible.

#6 throws himself at Clutch, tackling her to the mat. The two trade desperate strikes—neither gaining ground.

Sam lunges for #7—

But the ring shudders as another group of abominations crashes into the apron. The distraction is enough!

#7 starts climbing.

Sam recovers and starts after him—but #6 grabs Sam’s leg, dragging him back down.

Clutch breaks free and rushes the ladder.

#7 is almost there.

Clutch climbs from the opposite side.

They meet near the top.

Fists fly.

The ladder sways violently beneath them.

Outside, chaos continues—Kingsguard, abominations, security, fans fleeing in every direction.

Kieran King shouts from ringside, pointing at the belts.

“FINISH IT!”

#7 headbutts Clutch.

Clutch wobbles.

Sam tries to climb again—but #6 yanks him down and smashes him face-first into the ladder.

Clutch reaches.

Her fingertips graze the straps.

#7 grabs her wrist.

They struggle.

Then—

#7 rakes Clutch’s eyes and pushes her off!

Clutch loses her grip and crashes to the mat below!

#7 is alone at the precipice.

He reaches up.

Unhooks the championships.

The bell rings!

WINNERS AND NEW ANARCHY TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS:

KINGSGUARD #6 & KINGSGUARD #7

The arena is in shock.

The crowd is screaming—some in rage, some in disbelief, some still reacting to the chaos outside the ring.

Kingsguard #7 drops from the ladder, clutching both championships like lifelines. #6 scrambles to his feet and pulls him close.

They survived!

Todd: “They did it! By any means necessary, the Kingsguard have stolen the Tag Team Championships!”

Bama T: “They didn’t outfight them. They didn’t outwrestle them. They outlasted the apocalypse!”

Sam kneels in the ring, staring at the belts now in enemy hands. His creatures still rampage outside, but now, they’re outside of his control.

Clutch pulls her up using the ropes, eyes locked on the new champions.

But before either can react—

ANOTHER GROUP OF MONSTERS HITS THE STAGE!

The crowd roars again as four figures storm down the ramp.

Charlie Nickles.
Dr. Holly Cambric.
Jennie Nickles.
Mr. Oz.

They hit the ring like a hit squad!

Charlie tackles #6.

Holly drops #7 with a brutal strike to the back of the head.

Jennie levels Sam.

Oz hammers Clutch.

Charlie hauls #7 up and drives him down- DEVIL HOOK DROP!

Jennie throws #6 over the top rope!

No speeches.

Just violence!

Todd: “CHARLIE’S BASTARDS ARE CLEARING HOUSE!”

Charlie and the crew don’t discriminate, they lay out everyone inside the ring before they hit the outside and start searching for Kieran King!

They shove past Sam’s abominations and drop them where they stand.

Holly cracks a creature across the jaw with a steel chair.

Mr. Oz dismantles another abomination with cold efficiency.

For a moment—

The bastards stand tall.

Charlie looks at the fallen bodies around him.

At the wreckage.

At the titles lying on the mat.

Then—

KIERAN KING FLIES INTO THE SCENE WITH A STEELCHAIR, CRACKING CHARLIE IN THE BACK OF THE HEAD!

Oz sees the commotion and rushes in- but he gets whacked, too!

And then Cambric!

It isn’t until Jennie Nickles comes flying in with a missile dropkick that causes Kieran to drop the chair! Only then do they finally get an advantage!

Charlie, Oz, and Cambric rise- and each start pounding boots into Kieran’s flesh!

But then the lights flicker again.

And the Universal Champion’s titantron flashes across the screen!

THE HOUSE OF HARDCORE IS HERE!

The crowd explodes.

Dickie Watson.

Scoops McGee.

Amber Mansley.

Game Girl.

They storm the ramp like an invading army!

Bama T: “NO WAY—IT’S THE HOUSE OF HARDCORE HERE TO SETTLE THE SCORE!”

They charge down the ramp in a blur of motion.

Dickie drops Charlie with a brutal lariat.

Scoops tackles Mr. Oz.

Amber wipes out Jennie with a running strike.

Game Girl vaults in and takes out Holly.

The Kingsguard try to recover—

And get flattened!

The abominations are driven back, beaten down, forced out of the ring.

Todd: “EVERYBODY IS GETTING WIPED OUT BY THE HOUSE OF HARDCORE!”

Dickie stands tall in the center of the ring as bodies litter the canvas.

Scoops picks up the Universal Championship from the mat.

He stares at it.

Longingly.

Hungrily.

Dickie steps beside him.

Scoops hands it over begrudgingly.

Dickie raises the title high.

The House of Hardcore stands united in the wreckage of Anarchy.

The camera tightens on Scoops’ face.

On the look in his eyes as he watches ‘Big Gold’.

Bama T: “I can’t believe it! We just crowned new tag champions, but The Kingsguard never had a moment to celebrate!”

Todd: “The table is all set for Snow Pain, Snow Gain! You won’t want to miss it!”

Thanks to all our match writers
PETER PRINCIPLE
KRISTOFFER ARROYO
LIAM DESMOND
KINGSGUARD #5

And our segment writers
MICHEAL GRAVES
KRISTOFFER ARROYO
CENTURION
JENNY MISSED
KIERAN KING
& ELON MUSK

And to everyone who RPed!

]]>

XWF Anarchy
[Image: vuE1ZV0.png]

1 - 08 - 2026

LIVE FROM THE CRISLER CENTER!

ANN ARBOR, MICHIGAN

SIR LIONEL PENNYFARTHING
- vs -
SAFARI STU

SINGLES MATCH!

MR. OZ
- vs -
XXXVI ©

BEST OF THREE!

Match 1 will be an X-TREME RULEZ match! The Revolution Championship will be on the line!

ABEL GRACIE
- vs -
WICKED WITCH

SINGLES MATCH!

CENTURION
- vs -
ENNUI CLOWN

CIRCUS LUMBERJACK MATCH!

10 circus clowns will be surrounding the ring, acting as lumberjacks with 100% loyalty to Ennui Clown!

SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
MICHEAL GRAVES

CHASTITY MATCH!

It’s just a normal singles match, but Micheal Graves must wear a chastity belt because I DON’T TRUST HIM!!!

MR. OZ
- vs -
XXXVI ©

BEST OF THREE!

If needed, match 3 will be a SUBMISSION match! The Revolution Championship will be on the line!

CLUTCH CASSIDY© & SAMAEL DYSON©
- vs -
KINGSGUARD #6 & KINGSGUARD #7
w/ Kieran King at ringside!

LADDER MATCH!

The Anarchy Tag Team Championships will be on the line!

1 RP per team @ 2,000 words

SIR LIONEL PENNYFARTHING
- vs -
SAFARI STU

SINGLES MATCH!

Winner - Safari Stu

Todd: Safari Stu is certainly rolling here Bama, picking up another decisive win even if it is just over Sir Lionel.

Bama: I think I’m going to adopt this anteater!

Todd: Only in the XWF….

MR. OZ
- vs -
XXXVI ©

BEST OF THREE!

Match 1 will be an X-TREME RULEZ match! The Revolution Championship will be on the line!

HIGHLIGHT REEL

Winner of Match One: XXXVI

Abel Gracie’s theme plays

ABEL GRACIE
- vs -
WICKED WITCH OF PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING
Singles

Winner: The Wicked Witch of Professional Wrestling

The Witch rises, clutching at her chest as if sealing invisible essence into a vial, while Abel Gracie lies still beneath the lights—eyes open, lips moving in a prayer that found no answer tonight.

Centurion enters to a raucous ovation from the Michiganders, nodding in thanks as he makes his way to the ring.

https://youtu.be/WT8t3i8CkMQ?si=5AfbqdhnDtg_Wkdw

CENTURION
- vs -
ENNUI THE CLOWN
Singles

Winner: Centurion

Centurion drops the giant legs of Ennui and celebrates as the referee raises his hand.

Meanwhile, all of Ennui's clown friends carry him back to the car and stuff him back in.

WINNER and STILL Revolution Champion: XXXVI!

The referee rushes out to the wreckage at ringside, draping the Revolution title over 36’s battered body before he raises his hand high!

SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
MICHEAL GRAVES

CHASTITY MATCH!

It’s just a normal singles match, but Micheal Graves must wear a chastity belt because I DON’T TRUST HIM!!!

[amatch]HIGHLIGHT REEL

Winner: MIcheal Graves

—THUD—

CLUTCH CASSIDY© & SAMAEL DYSON©
- vs -
KINGSGUARD #6 & KINGSGUARD #7
w/ Kieran King at ringside!

LADDER MATCH!

The Anarchy Tag Team Championships will be on the line!

WINNERS AND NEW ANARCHY TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS:

KINGSGUARD #6 & KINGSGUARD #7

]]> <![CDATA[CHRISTMAS ON ANARCHY]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=49586 Sat, 20 Dec 2025 03:34:29 -0800 'Big' Dick Lichter]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=49586

Christmas on Anarchy!
[Image: XMAS-ANARCHY.png]

12 - 18 - 2025

LIVE FROM UBER ARENA!

BERLIN, GERMANY

Mr. Oz
- vs -
Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing

TABLES MATCH

SAFARI STU
- vs -
ABEL GRACIE

SINGLES MATCH

LEVI CARWIN
- vs -
RAZOR BLADE

X-TREME RULEZ

MR. OZ
- vs -
MARISOL VILARO

Oz’s Christmas Special!

Mr. Oz gets to pick the stipulation in his roleplay! The winner will become the #1 Contender to the Revolution Championship!

MR. OZ
- vs -
‘ASSUREDLY’ MICHEAL GRAVES

LAST MAN STANDING

The winner will become the #1 Contender to the Anarchy Championship!

DICKIE WATSON ©
- vs -
CENTURION
- vs -
KIERAN KING

CENTURION’S CHRISTMAS CHALLENGE!

The only way for Dickie or Kieran to win, is by pinning Centurion! But Centurion has to pin BOTH Dickie and Kieran to win! No DQ, no count outs.

A taxi pulls up backstage, and Micheal Graves steps out.

TODD: "And there he is—Michael Graves arrives at the arena—where tonight he's got a huge opportunity to become the number one contender for the Anarchy Title... but first, he's gotta go through Mr. Oz!"

BAMA T: "Easier said than done, Todd! Mr. Oz is so confident tonight, he didn't just book take this match, he stacked the deck with two more! He's not only fighting for a shot at the Anarchy Title, but the Revolution Title too. Graves' big return could fall flat, and we could be about to see the birth of Ozzy Two-Shots, baby!"

TODD: "All that confidence sounds great... but by the time he gets to well-rested and mildly-concussed Graves, it just might cost him!"

Graves heads toward the area, as the taxi driver steps out and yells:

“HEY, you gotta pay, buddy!”

Before Graves can even acknowledge him, Miss Furry and Peter Parkour come running, waving and cheering.

Miss Furry: "GRAVES! We’ve been waiting for you!"

Peter Parkour: "We didn’t expect you back so soon! ...not after all that blood..."

Graves stops, stares at them with a cold expression that feels almost dangerous as Peter trails off—lost in his trauma.

"You… little fuckin’ weirdos. You followed the wrong guy. Now get out of my way, I have laundry to fold!"

Miss Furry looks confused, but excited and still smiling.

Graves steps closer, and addressed her in a low and menacing voice.

"I don’t know your names. I don’t know your faces. And I sure as hell don’t want to know you. You’ve got two options: back the hell up, or get stomped over!"

He gestures to the taxi with a slight smirk.

"And by the way… cab’s still waiting. Someone’s gotta pay for my ride."

He turns, ignores them completely, and continues into the arena.

Miss Furry looks dumbfounded as the cabby comes for his money.

Todd: "Graves told us that the guy we’ve been watching for the last year was a fake, and after that interaction, I’m beginning to think that maybe he’s telling the truth!?"

Bama T: "Mind games, baby! Micheal Graves is cooking up something big, and the Students of Gravy just got a reality check, in that they’re no longer invited! Or hell, maybe that concussion he suffered has everything so scrambled that he's not even living in our reality!?"

Todd: "I… don’t know… maybe… wouldn't be the first time for Graves..."

Oswald stands amidst an indie metal band, watching the ring, looking at the band. Soon a choir is heard as the band begins to play his theme song. He walks towards the lead guitarist, clapping him gently on the back so as to not mess up her playing. Oswald, walks down the ramp, the bottom of his white cloak dragging along the ground. Once at the ring, he'd leap onto the apron before launching himself to show how strong and agile he was to lift such mass with such ease right over the top rope and de-cloaked himself, placing it in his corner before stretching out his arms in a lower case t and roaring out to the crowd before going and sitting on top of his cloak, awaiting the bell as he mentally plans out the match, as well as how to try and beat his opponent.

TODD: Mister Oz has declared himself the face of Anarachy! And he’s set out to prove it by wrestling three! THREE matches! All in a single night!

BAMA: It’s an almost unheard of feat, Toddrick! Made even more impressive by the fact that he’s carrying the X-Treme title! At least a one-fifth share of it!

TODD: …Oh my god, Bama! Charlie Nickles can’t declare the entire Corporation as freebirding the X-Treme title!

BAMA: Preston Vanderlay Esquire drafted the contract himself, Todd! And he’s a genius of fine print! It’s definitely an unconventional title structure… With a crack legal team like PVE, Jennie Nickles… and a Doctor like Doctor Holly Cambric? I think Charlie did it! I think he successfully split the belt five-ways! And that means Oz’s wins tonight count towards the Corporation’s defense count on their way to a briefcase!

TODD: Completely false.

…

Lionel prances to the ring, dressed straight out of an off-Broadway production of Hamlet, a table under his arm as he strides to the ring. He’s donned a daring red cape and has an epee sheathed by his hip!

TODD: I must admit, this week was the most fiery we’ve seen Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing!

BAMA: The L-Train was HEATED, Toddrick! He’ll take a licking, he’ll look like a fool week in and week out! But stage time is his bread and butter! So when he found out his opponent was getting three times the matches… THREE times the stage time he was? He declared he’s got a point to prove!

TODD: I don’t *love* his odds given his… abysmal record! But he actually brought a table to the ring! So, he must at least understand that this is a tables match… right?”

Sir Lionel does vocal exercises as he strides confidently down the ramp. He steps up the ring steps, and takes into the ring, doing a series of deep knee-bends in the corner as he waits for the show to commence. He gently sets the table in the corner before unsheathing his epee.

”EN GARDE!”

Free-Bird X-Treme Title match(???)
Mister Oz
- vs -
Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing
Tables Match

Sir Lionel stands across from Mister Oz, hopping back-whence and for-whence (which is backwards and forwards respectively for classically trained actors) as his little prop fencing sword swips through the air with a fwip-fwip!

Fwip-fwip!

Mister Oz cranks his neck with anticipation…

TODD: This will be the first of Mister Oz’s THREE matches tonight!

BAMA: And apparently, all of them are for the X-Treme title!

TODD: Oh shuddup, Bama! There’s no way that Charlie Nickles’ free-bird X-Treme title scheme is actually valid!

BAMA: You say the same thing about Preston Vanderlay Esquire’s freebird singles record! But who between you and he is the UNDEFEATED XWF LEGEND?!? WHO currently has a bust in the Hall of Legends, blessed by the Trillionaires themselves?

TODD: *sigh*

Oz suddenly charges forward, looking to grip Lionel by the throat!

…But Lionel deftly forward rolls under the charging ox and catches him with an epee to the back!

TODD: Oh my! Point, Lionel!

The crowd, surprised at Lionel’s competence, politely and intriguedly applauds, as Lionel continues to nimbly hop from foot to foot.

Oz turns around, as if a gnat just landed on his back… Completely unaffected by Lionel’s fencing attack.

TODD: One thing to keep in mind for Oz… he’s gotta conserve his energy. Again, this is the first of three opponents. So, he’s not just looking to beat Lionel. He’s looking to beat Lionel quickly!

BAMA: I dunno, Toddrick! Everybody knows Oz is the hossiest hoss that ever tossed sauce like a boss… But something about Sir Lionel! He’s got that chutzpah! He’s got that zizzle zazzle, that ol’ razzle-dazzle! I think we might see his first victory on Anarchy tonight!

Oz charges forward again, looking to grapple Sir Lionel, trapped in the corner… Oz widens his stance so Lionel can’t sidestep and escape!

…

But Sir Lionel slides through Oz’s parted legs! Oz looks down, momentarily shocked!

Giving Lionel a window for a…

SURPRISINGLY COMPETENT DROPKICK!

TODD: HOLY SHIT!

BAMA: HOLY SHIT!

HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!

The crowd is going nuts as Lionel rises back to his feet.

…Again, Oz is just kinda… gently pressed against the turnbuckle… He turns around, still looking like he’s running on a full tank of fuel and rage…

TODD: This is the best Sir Lionel’s looked in the ring… But it still doesn’t seem like enough to take down Oz!

BAMA: But he’s riding the crowd now, Toddrick! Sir Lionel is the consummate performer! And if he’s connecting with the crowd, maybe… just maybe… he can will his way to victory!

SIr Lionel notices the crowd cheering for him… and smugly smiles, wriggling his eyebrows, as he reaches into his pocket for a script labelled “Richard III Part 2: Electric Boogaloo”...

TODD: Oh god, don’t do a monologue… Focus on the wrestling!

Pennyfarthing grabs the table from his corner, and climbs on top of it… Lionel clears his throat as the crowd begins booing… They were excited for Lionel wrestling, not Lionel acting…

”Now!” Lionel begins, reading directly from his script. ”Is the WInter of our discontent! PART TWO! Made Glorious Summer b-”

WHAM! Oz double axe-handles Lionel in the back of the skull! Lionel flops down off the table, onto the mat below… looking dazed as the crowd fucking POPS!

TODD: Apparently, Mister Oz isn’t a fan of the theater!

BAMA: But this crowd is a fan of Mister Oz! Or at the very least, they like when he hurts people!

Lionel paws, cradling his aching back… as Oz effortlessly lifts Lionel off the mat in a military press…

PUMPHANDLE SLAM THROUGH THE TABLE!

Winne via Table: Mister Oz

TODD: OH MY GOD! What a maneuver! I think SIr Lionel is literally broken in half!

BAMA: Normally, Toddy baby, I’d chide ya for mis-using literally but… no, yeah, I think he’s broken! I’m glad Kieran King’s Kingsguard is here, cuz it’s gonna take all the king’s men and… maybe even most of his horses to put SIr Lionel back together!

Oz quickly rises, raising a fist toward the crowd as Sir Lionel lays unconscious, as broken as the table under him…. Actually, maybe more broken than the table.

TODD: A dominant match for Mister Oz!

BAMA: And a successful first X-Treme title defense for the Corporation!

TODD: Bama, I’m telling you! There’s no way the Corporation’s scheme is valid!

BAMA: But what if it is, Toddrick! What if it is and Oz scores THREE X-Treme defense in ONE NIGHT!!!

Time for a commercial break!

(While Anarchy is at commercial, the in-house fans get to see a ring entrance)

As the drums echoed down tonight, the rumble of a Jeep painted in camouflage drowns it out like the blessed rains of Africa. The Jeep continues down the ramp to ringside, where Safari Stu jumps out of the passenger seat. He high fives the gorilla driving the vehicle as a flood of wildlife also files out. Waving to the crowd, Stu gives a monkey to a young fan as a sign of appreciation. He then climbs into the ring and shoots off finger guns in the air while the monkey decides whether it'll rip the kid's face off. Such is the circle of life.

Anarchy comes back from commercial, so everyone actually gets to see THIS entrance, while Stu is just sorta already there.

The vocal screams through the stadium, dropping it into a hush. The sound of a church organ hits the system, as a choir boy or two begin their harmony. The faithful begin to clap to the beat, some raising their hands as a single white spotlight settles on the top of the ramp.

Abel Gracie steps out through the curtains, eyes bowed and hands clasped in prayer. The light seems to shoot out from him, glancing off the reflecting shoulder pads on his long black leather coat. Abel lifts his chin with an "amen" still on his lips, as a smile too big to be comfortable cuts across his face. He walks down towards the ring, raising a hand to children past and whispering blessings to them. Of course... Their parents try and pull them away from this psycho.

He takes the long way around the ring, making sure to bless fans in all four corners and our delightful commentators. Taking the steps up and gently stepping through the bottom ropes, he lets his coat fall to the floor - to reveal his scar-covered body. The lights settle on the middle of the ring now, where he drops to his knees, throws his head back and spreads his arms wide as he awaits his music's end... And the beginning of his worship service.

DING! DING! DING!!!

As soon as the bell sounds, Gracie flattens Stu with a spinning lariat that nearly decapitates the happy go lucky animal lover!

Gracie kneels in prayer over the body of Stu, and then drags Stu by the hair into the corner, pulling him into a standing position… BIG SPLASH in the corner from Gracie!

Stu staggers forward into a bear hug, which is a move Stu himself loves! Stu is struggling as Gracie turns around and then yanks Stu into a release suplex that sends Safari Stu crashing into the turnbuckles!

BAMA: “He calls that Pay the Price, Hot Todd!”

TODD: “Well Stu is definitely paying right now!”

Abel Gracie pulls the hair of Stu again just long enough to pull his head up from the mat… he then runs the laces of his own boot down across the face of Stu!

Stu is blinded and gets to his feet, walking right into a whip to the ropes… spinebuster from Abel Gracie! Gracie transitions quickly into an attempt at an ankle lock, but Stu manages to scramble to the bottom rope and grab on, getting MARTY the referee to start a five count for Gracie to break the hold!

1!

2!

3!

4!

Gracie finally relents, but immediately after releasing the leg of Safari Stu he leaps onto the neck and back of Stu, using his weight to press Stu’s windpipe down onto the rope!

MARTY’s lights start blinking red rapidly as he admonishes Gracie, who raises his hands plaintively and backs off.

MARTY’s lights go green again and Gracie is able to approach Stu. He throws a haymaker, but Stu blocks it! Stu hits a jab! And another!

TODD: “He’s Stuing up!”

BAMA: “That’s not a thing!”

Suddenly, from out of his tan safari pants, Stu pulls out a CROCODILE PUPPET!!!

Stu spins the puppet by its tail and bashes Gracie in the head with it! Gracie stumbles backward and falls in a seated position in the corner… BRONCO BUSTER FROM STU!!!

BAMA: “That’s sacreligious!”

TODD: “Did you say SACK?”

BAMA: “Dang it Todd I didn’t mean it like that you woke-ass enbie!”

TODD: “... surprised you know that word, honestly…”

Stu grabs Gracie… monkey flip!

Gracie is dizzy, and he walks right into a GORILLA PRESS!

Look out! Gracie rains down a series of sharp elbows to the face and head of Stu, and Stu loses his grip and his balance!

Gracie presses his advantage, smashing Stu with a series of open palm strikes until Stu is basically trying to just turtle up in defense.

Gracie stomps the gospel out of Stu and disrespectfully goes for a cover just of of that!

1!

2!

Stu swings a shoulder off the mat, and Gracie uses that movement to snare Stu in a chinlock!

Stu fights against the hold and works his way to a standing position, but when he tries to break loose Gracie whips him to the ropes again… CONSECRATION!!!

BAMA: “That knee hit Stu right on the button, Todd! If he was a See-N-Speak, the Cow would be sayin’ MOOOOO!”

TODD: “Gracie just kicked that crocodile puppet clear out of the ring! How rude!”

BAMA: “It’s an international object, Todd! Totally contraband!”

The knee sends Stu out of the ring and Gracie simply stands there waiting while Safari Stu tries to get himself together and back into the ring before beng counted out…

1!

2!

3!

4!

5!

6!

7!

Stu manages to get under the bottom rope to break the count, and Gracie is on him immediately with more stomps.

Gracie whips tu t the ropes again and looks for a tilt a whirl suplex, but Stu shockingly rotates all the way through and snags Gracie… FALCON ARROW! Stu is hyped up! He unbuttons the top three buttons of his safari shirt and heads to the top!

TODD: “He could be going for a frog splash here, Bama! Or a jumping bulldog!”

BAMA: “Wait Todd, someone’s coming out from under the ring!”

TODD: “Wait who… is that Jamaican Jimmy???”

Yes folks it IS Jamaican Jimmy! Jimmy gets out from under the ring and climbs the ring steps just in time to push Stu off the top rope!

”I be de only RASTAFARI in de XWF, bruddah!”

Jimmy crotch chops like crazy as Stu tries to figure out what the hell happened, and Abel Gracie has way more time than he ever needed to recover.

Gracie hits a running big boot to the back of Stu’s head as Stu leans over the ropes to argue with Jimmy!

Stu almost goes over but Gracie grabs him by the legs and pulls him back in on his feet…

GRACIOUS BAPTISM!!!

BAMA: “He ain’t gonna get up.”

Gracie nearly drives Stu’s skull through the mat with the modified choke slam, and he moves into a cover immediately!

1!

2!

3!!!

DING! DING! DING!!!

Winner by Pinfall: Abel Gracie

TODD: “What a dominating debut from Abel Gracie, Bama! But what the heck is up with Jimmy?”

BAMA: “I think that damn fool heard the word safari and thought he said rastafari! He’s a damn idgit!”

Total darkness on the stage, as the music starts, then when the "GO" is said in the track, the lights come on, and out comes the JUICER. He flexes, rips off his vest, before he makes his way down to the ring, all business. When he reaches the ring, he'll pose on the rope for a moment, before he throws his trucker hat to the fans, and makes his way into the ring, prepared for CONQUEST.
BAMA: And here comes ZA JUICA’! He had an impressive debut, winning a triple threat match without even breaking a sweat!
TODD: But tonight, the challenger before him is greater than ever….

''Wrestling has more than one... royal family.''

As soon as those words are heard, the crowd erupted as you heard the commentator's reaction as well.

TODD: And here comes the REIGNING, DEFENDING, AND UNDISPUTED STAR OF THE MONTH! RAZOR BLADE!
''Adrenaline, in my soul

Every thought out of control

Do it all to get them off their feet''

Razor glanced out at the crowd, nodding his head pointing out towards them as he knelt down, tapping the ramp with his fist, jumping up to his feet as he extended his arms out.

TODD: Razor Blade has been on a major roll recently! He hasn’t lost a match in MONTHS!

BAMA: And, he Captained his War Games team to victory in the Pre-Show! Razor Blade is no push-over anymore, that’s for sure! He’s turned into one of Anarchy’s TOP STARS!

''Crowd is here, about to blow
waitin' for me to start the show

out the curtain, lights go up I'm home

Whoooooooooooooa!''

A burst of pyro went off behind Razor as he brought his arms in before pumping his fist as one final big burst of pyro went off behind him Razor glanced out at the crowd again, that smile remaining on his face as he walked deeper into the store, high fiving members of the crowd in the front row before going over and doing the same thing on the other side of the store. Then, Razor slid into the ring and prepared himself for combat!

LEVI CARWIN
- vs -
RAZOR BLADE

X-TREME RULEZ

DING! DING! DING!
The match starts off with an electric pace! Razor Blade shoots out of his corner like a bat out of hell, charging straight into the much larger JUICA! Blade shoulder checks Carwin into the corner turnbuckle, and then Razor Blade delivers a stiff elbow to Carwin that causes blood to come flying out of his mouth! Keeping up the advantage, Razor Blade quickly drops down and begins delivering big shoulder blows to Carwin’s midsection! As Carwin heaves from the force of the blows, Razor Blade takes a step back…but then, he delivers a devastating chop to Carwin’s chest that leaves ZA JUICAH’s pecs red!

Bama: Hot damn! Razor Blade isn’t scared of this newcomer at all! He’s taking the fight right to him!

Todd: Blade is showing everyone exactly why he was chosen as November’s Star of the Month!

Blade delivers a few more chops to Carwin’s chest, and then he grabs Carwin’s neck. Blade tries to pull Carwin out of the corner for a running bulldog- but Levi Carwin pushes him off! Razor Blade lands by himself in the center of the ring, but he quickly scrambles to his feet…

But he wasn’t quick enough!

Before Razor can even react, Levi Carwin delivers a big boot right to the face!

Razor Blade is knocked flat onto the mat!

Carwin delivers a stiff stomp to Blade’s midsection before grabbing the Star of the Month by his hair and dragging him up to a standing position. Then, Carwin delivers a devastating suplex that shakes the ring!

Razor Blade clutches his back and groans in pain, but Levi Carwin is right back up! ZA JUICAH wastes no time!

Levi Carwin picks him up once more before sending him back down with a massive body slam!

Bama: Levi Carwin is just taking complete control of this match!

Todd: Razor Blade is an experienced veteran inside that ring, but Carwin’s mixture of strength and willpower looks to be just too much for him to handle!

Razor Blade crawls into the corner, pulling himself up by the ropes before trying to take a quick breather against the turnbuckle pads…

BUT LEVI CARWIN HAS OTHER IDEAS!

BIG SPLASH in the corner!

But Razor Blade doesn’t fall!

Instead, Razor Blade slowly stumbles out of the corner after the big splash, clearly dazed and confused.

When Razor turns around to find ZA JUICAH….

HE GETS RAN OVER WITH A MASSIVE LARIAT!

BLADE DOES A 360 FLIP FROM THE FORCE!

Carwin goes for the cover!

1!

2!!

3!!!

Winner by Pinfall – ‘Za Juicah’ Levi Carwin

Bama: What a dominant showing from Levi Carwin! He damn near decapitated Razor Blade with that Lariat!

Todd: In his debut match, Levi Carwin handled two XWF vets with the upmost ease! And now, he’s just crushed the hopes and dreams of one of Anarchy’s top stars! The sky is the limit for this kid if he keeps this winning streak up!

“VROOM! VROOM! VROOM!”

The crowd erupts upon hearing the sounds that will soon herald one of the brightest young stars on Anarchy, and sure enough, “Born to the Wild” cranks up a second later, prompting fans to elbow-jockey each other to get closer to the barricade where Clutch will pass by.

Normally, Clutch arrives in her beefy muscle car, but this time she surprises everyone by driving a White Claw beer truck down the ramp, running over some stage equipment and causing property damage. The big rig is adorned with Christmas lights. The crowd is eating it up!

CROWD: VROOM VROOM VROOM *clap-clap, stomp-stomp-stomp* VROOM VROOM VROOM!

TODD: Holy hell, what the???? One-half of the new Anarchy tag champions has just arrived in festive White Claw style!

BAMA: Where the hell did she get that truck? Did she steal it?

The big rig comes to a stop, the air brakes hiss, and the engine stops. Out pops Clutch Cassidy from the driver’s seat, her tag team title held in her hand. She whirls it over her head, helicopter style, while the fans near her cheer and exchange fist-bumps and high fives with her free hand.

Samael Dyson explodes out of the passenger seat, wearing his half of the tag team championships tucked into his pants and hanging over his crotch like a big ol’ floppy dick. Sam Dyson is decked out in jeans and a t-shirt emblazoned with the words “TITS DOWN ASS UP.”

The Anarchy tag-team champeens make their way into the ring, where Clutch performs a one-handed no-look catch of a thrown mic, cool-girl style. The crowd pops and sings the chorus of the classic rock song: “BORN.. BORN TO BE WILD!”

The music then cuts out, and Dyson seemingly happily watches her as she paces back and forth in front of him, clad in a pair of skin-tight, form-fitting fitting stone-washed ripped jeans with sparkling Christmas theme lights on the pockets, a humorous Santa Claws shirt, and her signature black jacket with the racing patches and cool stuff on it.

CLUTCH: Aight, y’all. Before I say a dayum thing, lemme take a moment right dayum now to pay mah respects to this man ri’chur.

She turns and points to Dyson. The crowd engulfs him with boos.

Sam’s earlier contentment is broken, and his lip twists up into a snarl at the crowd’s reaction.

She marches up to him and puts him in a playful headlock, bringing his face next to her buxom bewbs.

CLUTCH: This crazy sumbitch ri’chur saw something in me when I issued that open tag parner request. He didn’t hafta offer himself to it but he did and dare I say he carried my ass at Wargames?

TODD: Oh, he definitely saw something in her, alright. Or rather on her.

BAMA: He saw that ass and rack she’s working with. I don’t blame him a bit for taking her up on it.

CLUTCH: Yeah, he says and does shit that ain’t popular, but he earned his dayum keep at Wargames. Come on, y’all, give some love for him just this once.

The crowd still boos, but it’s a little less booing. She releases him from the playful headlock and bows to him in old school classic Wayne’s World “we’re not worthy” gestures. Sam goes to the edge of the ring and demands his own mic, then, having received it, returns to the center of the ring, still shooting lusty looks at Clutch before turning his attention outwards.

SAMAEL: Dear local hometown: SUCK MY PRODIGIOUS HOG!

He flashes the crowd a double middle finger, which of course, only serves to ramp up the boos again.

SAMAEL: The only thing I give a fuck about are Kris, Clutch, and all the titles we possess that means we OWN ANARCHY. The A-show, bitches!

Sam reaches into his pocket and pulls out….Clutch’s dirty panties??!! Clutch chuckles and puts her hand over her face as Sam holds the panties aloft.

SAMAEL: Who ever would have guessed that from these humble soiled panties, a TAG TEAM LEGACY would be born. An unstoppable unit, an immovable force!

Ohhhhh….ohhhhhh! But I hear the smears backstage. The accusations! The people saying that the Anarchy Tag Team Championships are somehow the LESSER brand of tag team championship. And to those people I say: what the fuck are you smoking and GIMME SOME! Because you people are completely out of touch with reality. I mean, have you seen the state of those OTHER tag team championships? The ones that were defended every SIX MONTHS (if we’re lucky) by the complete PAPER CHAMPIONS that saw fit to rest on their laurels and spend all their time bickering with each other like some over-the-hill gay couple working through a lifetime of bitterness and regret! The ones that were just won by the same BORING TURBODOUCHE who was already holding them and doing fuck all with them since JUNE until he was forced to defend them in fucking DECEMBER!

Sam shoots a look at Clutch as if to say “can you believe that shit?!” before returning to the mic.

SAMAEL: Naaaahhhhh, fam! Even my mother, who objectively sucked ass, and her scissor sister Dolly Waters, defended those tag team championships WAY MORE than Bryce and King!

BORING! DULL! WEAK! PATHETIC!

Sam points at himself and Clutch, his mania only growing in scope.

SAMAEL: Not us! We’re not going to bring you the same watered-down SHIT REIGN that SEB has been bringing you for the last half a year. We’re gonna make this shit MATTER. We’re gonna DEFEND THIS SHIT! And our first defense is going to be on ANARCHY NUMBER ONE OF 2026! Clutch, take it away HOTPANTS!

Sam points at Clutch eagerly, passing her the proverbial torch.

CLUTCH: Yer gosh damn right, Sam. We ain’t gonna be lazy asses with these here titles. We’re gonna continue the tradition that XXXVI and the Director started by being proactive. We also ain’t gonna be boring sticks in the mud like the Exiles. Starting ri’chur, ri’now. WE’RE CELEBRATIN’ BABY!

She lets out a Tennessee yelp and gestures to the White Claw beer truck. Several of Sam’s Insignifigants emerge carrying a huge hose connected to the big rig’s trailer. Clutch grabs the head of the hose, drags it to the center of the ring, and, with help from Sam, who conveniently positions himself very closely behind her, flicks the hose on. A gigantic geyser of White Claw beverage sprays into the cheering masses. They turn to each direction of the fans, drenching them, the commentating crew, and even themselves in the beverage of Clutch’s obsession.

Eventually Clutch hands the hose over to Sam, who naturally proceeds to position the hose over his crotch and rub it saliciously as he continues to spray the audience. Clutch, soaked with White Claw, climbs to the top turnbuckle and holds her half of the tag titles high, as the shot fades out to a commercial.

The feed from Anarchy blares from the TV in Scoops McGee’s locker room, who regards it with a scowl. He continues taping up his wrists, anxiously pacing about in his locker room as he does so. Before he could finish, however, the door barges open as he swivels about.

Tommy Gunn leads the way instead, a deep scowl on his face. Behind him walks in about a half-dozen men, each of them all swearing the same armored uniform.

“The Hell’s this bullshit?” Scoops scoffs.

Tommy takes a deep breath, straightening himself before speaking. “The King sends his regards.”

“Well, ain’t that just dandy,” Scoops rolled his eyes as he finished taping his wrists. “I’m guessing there’s more to this than that?”

Tommy’s gaze darkened as he nodded to one of the men, who quickly closed the door behind him.

“The King would also like to ask about your outstanding union payments,” Tommy huffed. “And if you don’t comply, then we’ll need to take them… by force.”

“Yeah?” Scoops chuckled, before holding up his fists. “I got two moneymakers for you slimy fucks right here!”

Scoops lunges forward right at Tommy, peppering him with hard lefts and rights! Tommy responds with his own strikes, and in unison, the Kingsguard descends onto Scoops like a pack of vultures!

BAMA: It’s chaos back there, baby! Scoops McGee is getting mauled like a sack of meat!

TODD: Scoops has his match up next!

BAMA: He might not be able to make it at this rate!

Scoops runs off of sheer instinct, ramming himself off to the side to forcibly jam two men into the unforgiving steel of the lockers, but it isn’t enough. The other men quickly beat him down, stomping him in unison. Tommy nods to the men, and they open one of the locker doors…

TODD: Don’t do it-!

WHAM!

THE METAL LOCKER DOOR JUST SLAMMED SHUT INTO SCOOPS’ SKULL!

BAMA: Can you say ‘C-T-E’ or what, baby?

TODD: Scoops has been taking his fair share of concussions these past few weeks, but this might be the nastiest one yet, courtesy of Kieran King! He’s trying to take out the number one contender to the Universal title!

BAMA: I think that's the point, Todd! Scoops hasn't taken the offer to become that yet, and Kieran would claim that HE is the number one contender! At this rate, Scoops might not be in any shape to take the title shot! He damn sure isn’t in any shape to compete tonight!

Tommy and the Kingsguard take a moment to admire their work as blood oozes out of Scoops’ skull, before they proceed to make their way out of the locker room.

Mr. Oz hits the stage as soon as his music hits! The crowd goes ballistics as the big man steps through the curtain, already having won a battle earlier tonight. A bunch of fans in the front row begin going crazy, screaming that ‘WE BELIEVE!’ as Mr. Oz strides confidently down to the ring.

The sythinzied beat of Shake it Off By Taylor Swift begins to play over the public address system, as the opening lyrics soon begin, as the fans boo and flashes going off, people are waiting for the arrival of the Fitness Queen herself.

I stay out too late
Got nothing in my brain
That's what people say, mm-mm
That's what people say, mm-mm

As a spotlight is on the entrance ramp and the lights dim, first stepping out is none other than the legendary Snarktopus Nessa Wall, who smiles brightly before trash talking the fans as she smiles, before ordering a couple of stage hands to come out they each have a mirror in hand they face the entrance ramp, as soon out from the back steps La Marvillosa herself Marisol Vilaro.

I go on too many dates
But I can't make 'em stay
At least that's what people say, mm-mm
That's what people say, mm-mm

Marisol stops to admire herself in each mirror posing and showing off, what her hard work has given her and mouthing about how she’s the inspiration these out-of-shape people need. After a few moments of posing she brushes right past, giving her manager/mentor a hug before they head off with Nessa leading the way taking the time to give the fans at ringside a hard time for even trying to touch them.

But I keep cruisin'
Can't stop, won't stop movin'
It's like I got this music in my mind
Sayin' it's gonna be alright

Marisol herself takes the time to pose some more showing off her muscle, and trying to sell them on the VilaroFit mission, and how they need it to improve themselves, As the devious duo soon make their way toward the ring side area Nessa soon goes up the ring steps and takes the time to bark orders at the referee, showing him exactly how lower the ropes for herself, and her client, after being lectured by the Ambitchous one, the referee complies doing it exactly as Nessa demanded enters the ring and motions for Marisol to go up the steps, as she climbs up the steps she takes each moment to keep shilling her products, which doesn’t endear her to the fans, as she soon enters the ring under the rope and soon she rudely brushes past the referee as Nessa presents her to the booing fans as she raises her arms high in the air soaking in the boos, and catcalls.

'Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play
And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate
Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off (hoo-hoo-hoo)
Heartbreakers gonna break, break, break, break, break
And the fakers gonna fake, fake, fake, fake, fake
Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake
I shake it off, I shake it off (hoo-hoo-hoo)

Marisol then does a series of poses once again before turning around and gracing the other side of the area raising her arms high in the air and then doing a similar series of poses showing off her physique and how in shape she is. While Nessa claps her client before they head into their corner, and Nessa is getting Marisol psyched and going over the game plan as they wait for the opponent to enter.

The Bell rings!

MARISOL VILARÓ
- vs -
MISTER OZ
Meathooks of Horror Match
Hanging from the rafters is a large, rusty meathook.

The only way to win is to… immobilize your opponent.

[amatch]HIGHLIGHT REEL

TODD: Ladies and gentlemen, hanging ominously from the rafters above the ring… the meathooks. The only way to win tonight is to immobilize your opponent. No pinfalls. No submissions. Just total control.

Bama: Todd, this ain’t about pain tolerance. This is about thinkin’. And I promise you—Mister Oz picked this match for a reason.

Marisol Vilaró explodes out of the corner, snapping off a Headlock Takedown that snaps the larger Oz off his feet!

TODD: Wow! Vilaró taking advantage of the fact that she’s fresh and coming at Oz like a bullet train!

BAMA: Mari never skips leg day and she never skips an opportunity to take an early advantage!

Before Oz can even think about trying to scramble back to a vertical base, Mari secures control of his wrist and converts into a Spinning Wrist Lock, wrenching Oz down before he can plant his base!

TODD: I don’t know if Vilaró went into this match planning on turning into VilaroFit content, but right now Marisol is stretching Mister Oz like he’s one of her system’s clients!

Vilaró aims a series of right-handed blows to Oz’s solarplexus…

But he HOWLS in her face, intimidating her temporarily still!

TODD: Marisol came out of the gate red hot! But now it looks Oz is the one getting heated!

BAMA: You can’t keep a monster like Oz grounded for long!

Oz charges forward, looking for a clothesline…

…But Mari bridges backward, briefly crabwalking as Oz skirts by, rotating back onto her feet!

TODD: In-CREDIBLE flexibility and agility on display here by the CEO of VilaroFit!

BAMA: And for just five easy payments of $19.95, you too can get started on your VilaroFit journey!

TODD: Y’know, Bama, Oz *and* Mari are both successful business people. You could also hawk Oz’s business while you’re at it.

BAMA: Sure. How did Oz make his billions again?

TODD: …Well…

…

TODD: …uh…

…

TODD: …He made Chicago great again?

Oz bounces off the ropes, looking to SHOULDER BLOCK Mari!

…But Mari manages to catch Oz with a boot to the gut, doubling Oz over!

She quickly hooks in a front facelock!

TODD: Wow! Mari is lacking no confidence, she’s going to suplex Mister Oz! I can’t help but point out that feat might be too herculean even for M-

WHAM! Mari manages to scoop Oz up and over! Vertical suplex! Mari takes a momentary breather on the mat… BEFORE KIPPING BACK UP TO HER FEET!

TODD: Holy COW!

BAMA: Never ever doubt the Queen of VilaroFit can do something!

Mari flexes over the fallen Mister Oz… before punctuating the sequence with an Elbow Drop to the back of Mister Oz’s head!

TODD: Absolutely incredible! This might be the best we’ve ever seen Mari in the ring!

Mari plants her hands on Oz’s back and starts doing pushups directly onto Oz…

…But she glances up as she does… At the meathooks dangling above the ring… And her exercise slows.

BAMA: It’s dawning on Mari now… It took almost everything in the tank to get Oz up in the air… She’s gonna have to do that in such a way as to put him on that meathook if she wants to get the win tonight!

Mari again tries to put Oz back onto the mat with an axe-handle to the back of the skull! Followed by kicks to the lower leg!

TODD: Mari knows Oz is most dangerous when he’s up on his feet!

BAMA: But Oz is also almost impossible to bring down! And might be LITERALLY impossible to keep down!

Oz is on one knee now… Mari braces herself! She leaps through the air…

DROPKICK!

TODD: Beautifully acrobatic aerodynamics on display by the Queen of VIlaroFit!

BAMA: Beautiful… but ineffective!

Indeed, Mari’s boots hit Oz’s chest… but Oz just tanks through it, rising up to his feet! Mari sees her opponent is upright and tries to shove her way back to a vertical base to keep peppering in str-

WHAM! Oz surges forward! SPEAR! Oz folds Marisol like a goddamn accordion!

TODD: Oh my GOD! What a move by Mister Oz!

BAMA: And just like that, Mari’s in trouble! We could be looking at the second chapter of the Oz Revolution!

:

Oz drags Marisol toward the center of the rign, eyes lifting to the hooks. Her legs are jelly under her, looking very vulnerable!

TODD: Mari’s got a figure something out here, or Oz is going to impale her on that meathook!

BAMA: She’ll lose the match! And get a scar on her perfect body! That body’s her whole business, Toddrick!

Oz hoists Mari into the air with a Delayed Vertical Suplex, squatting under her weight—slow, deliberate, terrifying.

The chain dangles, swinging ominously in the air, as Oz deliberately inches, looking to bring Mari down onto it…

…

TODD: Oh God, I can’t look…

…

Oz deftly maneuvers Mari onto the hanging chain…

When suddenly,, Marisol lashes out with an Eye Rake! Oz covers his face!

TODD: Mari survives!

BAMA: But for how much longer, Toddrick!

Oz hoists Mari into the air, in a bear hug, looking to bring her up on the meathook…

TODD: Once more, Oz seems determined to hang Mari on that meathook!

BAMA: I mean, he picked the match, Toddy baby! He specifically called for a Meathooks of Horror match! It only makes sense he’s itching to make use of dem meathooks!

Mari’s hands reach to claw at Oz’s face, but Oz reels his head back, laser-focused on squeezing the life out of his opponent…

Mari’s lungs stiffen as her face contorts in agony…

TODD: Mari might end up “immobilized” before Oz even puts her on the meathook!

BAMA: Thought that doesn’t mean Oz won’t put her up there anyway! Solomon may be the recent X-Treme champ they call ‘Psycho’, but Oz is actually demented!

TODD: He’s not the X-Treme champ, Bama!

Oz lifts Mari higher in his bear hug, inching her closer to the meathook…

…

When suddenly, Mari’s hands shoot up!

TODD: Mari finds her second wind! All that cardio is paying off!

BAMA: Mari’s got the heart of a champion and the lung capacity of an adult dolphin!

Before Oz can stop her, Mari grasps the meathook from above her!

CRACK!

She smashes it over Oz’s skull! The meathook snaps clean off its chain! Oz drops face-first to the mat as Mari exhaustedly backs to the corner

TODD: She broke it! Mari broke the hook! That’s one way to make sure you don’t get impaled in the middle of the ring!

BAMA: And more than that, Toddrick! She might have just immobilized Oz by nailing him over the head with that meathook! Oz told Mari to hit the fuck out of him if she wanted the win! And I think she just did!

Mari finds the wherewithal to bark at the official to declare her the winner for immob-

…Before she can finish her sentence… Oz is already stirring, slowly rising back to his feet…

TODD: …Oh… my… God…

BAMA: That’s like if Friday the 13th had a baby with Halloween… Mari thought the credits were rolling but the Monster from her nightmares just came back to Drag her to HELL!

Marisol’s Control:

TODD: Mari is trying to immobilize Oz by breaking him! She’s got eh Marvelous Stretch locked in!

Indeed, Mari cinches in the Marvelous Stretch, bowing Oz’s spine, trying to sap the power from his core.

Oz’s body bends in her arms, as he squints…

He hooks an arm under hers, looking to hip toss her…

…But at the last possible moment, Mari drags her nails across his eyes!

As Oz grips his aching face, slowly rising to his feet, Mari grabs the disconnected meathook off the mat!

TODD: Oh my! That meathook very nearly won the match for Mari before! And it looks like she thinks a second strike is going to secure the win in her favor!

Oz slowly turns around…

Mari swings for the fences!

…

But Oz ducks! Mari’s meathook sails high to low, before digging into the mat!

Mari tries to pull it out but it’s caught!

She spins around…

OZ DELIVERS A DOUBLE-A SPINEBUSTER SLAM!

TODD: Oh no! Things look bad for Marisol!

BAMA: But how’s Oz gonna “immobilize” Mari, Todd! She broke the meathook!

Oz reaches up to the now meathook-less chain… And in a show of strength, YANKS it off the rafter…

Mari cradles her neck, very slowly rising…

As Oz threads the chain through the ropes..
TODD: What the hell is this maniac up to, Bama?

BAMA: Not a goddamn cl-... Wait! Oh my God!

As Mari slowly rises, Oz secures Mari in a wristlock!

And wraps the chain he’s threaded around both of Marisol’s wrists, cinching it tight!

TODD: What is he doing!?!

BAMA: I know exactly what he’s doing! He’s daggon HOG-TIEING MARI!

Before Mari can even realize she’s chained, Oz uses his strength to hoist her backward into a seated position against the turnbuckle, the chain pulling her arms outward and locking her torso upright in the corner!

Marisol thrashes, desperately trying to break free. But her arms are pinned wide, back pressed to steel, legs trapped beneath Oz’s boot.

She cannot move.

TODD: She’s immobilized! Her arms! Her back! Her legs! She can’t go anywhere!

BAMA: IN-genie-YUS! Mari thought she had Oz over a barrel when she broke his meathook! But leave it to the Oz-man to know his stip so well as to have a backup plan!

The referee checks. No escape.

Bell rings.

Winner and new #1 Contender to the XWF Revolution Title: Mister Oz

TODD: Incredible showing by Mister Oz! Marisol looked her absolute best, but Oz brilliantly picked a stipulation perfectly suited to his style! Mari dug deep to counter-act it, but Oz’s Plan B proved too much!

BAMA: And now he’s the #1 contender to XXXVI’s Revolution Title!

TODD: Correct!

BAMA: And that’s the Corporation second X-Treme title defense tonight!

TODD: Ye-...NO!

The shot cuts to backstage where we see a confident looking Kristoffer Arroyo, Anarchy championship slung over his shoulder, walking towards the ring. But, no sooner do we see our brand new champ than does he come face to face with a figure rounding the corner before him.

Kieran King.

Behind him, members of The Kingsguard ready themselves to protect their king.

The fans sense the same tension, popping huge with expectation from the arena, as these two have not encountered each other since their implosion at War Games. Both men eye each other warily for a moment. But it’s Kristoffer who holds up a beseeching hand and starts to speak.

“Hold on, hold on! I know! I know.” He begins, licking his lips.” Let me speak my peace and then you can say whatever it is you want to say.”

King looks annoyed, but crosses his arms in front of him and seems to acquiesce.

”Things went south for us at War Games. Badly. And while I know you probably couldn’t force yourself to give a shit about my opinion, I feel the need to express it anyway”. Kris pauses, driving up the tension a bit.” I don’t blame you. For any of it. I’m smart enough to see that we were both used and abused by the powers that be. What happened between us wasn’t either of our faults. The fact of the matter is, we were set up to fail. There was no way we were walking out of War Games the victors with your Universal Championship on the line.”

”Now I’m not angling for an alliance here. I know you don’t want that. What I am calling for, is a detente. A respectful parting of ways.” Kris shrugs.” What do you think?”

Kieran sniggers. It then drifts into a full blown laugh. ”You act like I didn't plan for this. Like I'm not walking to Snow Pain, Snow Gain to get MY title back. You're welcome for yours, by the way. Besides, we both know what men like you are willing to do when the chips are down.”

Kris considers Kieran cooly. ”What men “like me” are willing to do? You mean like try to win War Games for my team? Look Kieran, if you were so prepared to win back your title after the fact then why pull me off of Dickie? Why stop us from winning?”

”Us? Or you? Because if it was ‘us’… the guy who I helped win a title, wouldn't have covered Dickie to begin with.”

”Oh, it was most assuredly US, Kieran. Kris begins, his ire rising. You know as well as I do how capable Dickie is and I saw an opportunity to put him away for OUR team. Would you have lost your title? Yes! But OUR team would have won out in the end! I…”Kris, looking flustered, shakes his head and reels it back in.” I sense this is going nowhere.”

”It was never going anywhere to begin with.” Kieran agrees. ”You're asking for a truce, but I'm not exactly asking my guys behind me to jump you any time soon.” He gestures to the Kingsguard behind him. ”All this ever was, was a business relationship. Tonight, I get my hands on Dickie. And at Snow Pain, Snow Gain, I get my hands on my title. You're already not involved. But… I would be remiss if I didn't mention that I am undefeated on Anarchy…”

Kieran's eyes drift to the Anarchy Championship. Kris follows them accordingly.

Kieran grins. ”Fun fact, eh?” He pats the title and half brushes past Kris, his heavies getting set to follow.

Suddenly, King stops in line with the champion. His eyes flick down to the title again and then back up to Kris. ”Make sure to pay your union fees.”

Kieran winks.

He sets off, trailed by his armada of large, angry bodies and leaving Kristoffer Arroyo behind. Kristoffer watches his go for a bit before scowling and muttering ”Civility is dead.” Kris continues on until he reaches the entrances to the arena bathroom. Before long, a flushing sound is heard from within, and out pops Samael Dyson trailing a piece of toilet paper on his shoe, who for sure didn’t wash his hands.

”Hey, did you run into King yet? Did he apologize for fucking you over at War Games?!’

”No. And you have a piece of shitter paper on your shoe.”

”I…wha?” Sam looks down at his shoe and sees the toilet paper. Sputtering to himself, he tears it off before speaking to Kris again. ”GOD DAMN IT! He didn’t even apologize?! That smug cunt! Let’s go make him lick our assholes!”

”And fight our way through the entire Kingsguard to get to him? We need to be reasonable…”

”No! What we need to do is spit in his mouth and make him call us daddy!”

”Very well. If that’s what you’d like to do. I’m on way to the ring.”

Kris keeps walking and Sam sneers, look back at the direction King walked off in, and then catches up with Kris. ”You have a serious NO FUN problem, you know that?”

The shot cuts out and abruptly returns to arena side, just as Kris’ theme music hits!

The arena is bathed in a deep red light that brings out the shadows in every nook and cranny as "Deep Set" by Greg Puciato starts to play. Kristoffer Arroyo steps through the entrance way, looking cool and confident behind his bright pink shades. He saunters down to the ring, taking his time and seeming to savor the moment before suddenly exploding into a slide into the ring. He then steps through the ropes onto the ring apron, where he wraps his legs around the middle rope and hangs himself upside down with his arms outstretched like an inverted cross. He smiles for the camera, revealing long sharpened incisors, before sitting up and rolling up and over the top rope and to the canvas. He then proceeds to gesture to Samael, who had been following just behind the entire time. Samael rolls into the ring after mean mugging the fans for a bit as Kris asks for a mic from ringside. Adjusting the Anarchy Championship on his shoulder he smiles wide and starts to address the crowd.

”I believe it’s customary for the new champion to to come out on his pet show to address the people and lay down the rules the new regime will follow. So here I am…” He pauses, smirks and bears the hint of a fang, ”....and here are my rules. They’re simple rules, really. The rules that every program and every champion should follow, despite some falling awfully, awfully short.

My championship will be defended regularly. We’re not going to suffer another Atara who not so cleverly tried to save her run with this very title by ditching War Games. And yes, sweetheart, we are on to you and you’re right to bury your head in shame.

But only the talented and the deserving will get a shot. So rest assured the Razor Blade’s and The Director’s of the world are right out. The Anarchy title is for the WORTHY. The DESERVING. Save the scraps and the prattle for the Revolution Championship, thank you.

Which brings me to my next point. The man who presumes to be my next challenger: Michael Graves.”

The mention of the returning Graves draws a mixed reaction from the crowd.

”Michael, I got your message. “Notice of Imminent Violence.” Adorable, really. As if the last 300 years of my existence haven’t been anything but a parade of imminent violence. As if I didn’t JUST BEAT one of the most vicious and violent men in XWF history on Warfare this week.

Graves, I understand you’re an old hand around here so it shocks me that you would take such plebian measures to try to intimidate me. Because it’s going to take so, so much more than beating some backstage underlings to get under my skin.

My door was RIGHT THERE. All you had to do was knock and say hello. But you didn’t. You posted A SIGN. You diligently avoided me and left me a note like some heart struck teenage girl passing a missive in study hall.

Graves, when you lost your organs….did you lose both your testicles too?” Kris chuckles and shrugs. ”I guess we’ll find out. See you soon, masked man. Let’s not be a colossal disappointment, shall we?”

Kris drops the mic as his music starts to play again. Sam playfully sits on the middle rope and holds them open for the champ and Kris smirks and steps through before heading up the ramp and towards the back.

Backstage, near the locker rooms. Miss Furry cautiously approaches Graves, who is pacing, while muttering to himself.

"Micheal… I know you think that you don’t know any of us, maybe it’s the concussion messing with your brain, but whatever the case—we're YOUR students, and we think that you’re… incredible!

A master teacher!

A real inspiration!

A true man of the people!"

Graves stops mid-step, and spins around with a wild look in his eyes.

"Incredible? Inspirational? Man of anyone other than ME!?

You little fuckin’ weirdo… you think you can just stroll up here, slobber me over, and I’m supposed to what—rub your belly? I’ll gut you like a fuckin' fish, chew on your stupid kitty head, and use your whiskers as toothpicks!"

Miss Furry takes a small step back, but she doesn’t waver.

"I know it probably seems like you don’t know me at all, but... we’ve all been following and learning from you for like a whole year now. I have no clue why you don’t remember us... was it that concussion thing? Maybe? Anyway... no matter what, we just think you’re absolutely incredible. We basically worship you, and we really hope you get better and remember us."

Graves blinks.

”Worship…

...me..?”

He suddenly grimaces in pain and doubles over, rubbing his temples while muttering—"Damned concussion… fuck… it’s got me all twisted. I… I just can’t remember, but… but somehow I know you’re telling the truth…"

"It’s true—ALL OF IT! The title defenses, the wrestlers union... oh, and even that pesky business with the Vampire Truckers Union. We've stood by you through everything, and you've never steered us wrong—oh Captain, my captain."

Graves exhales as his grin spreads into an unhinged smirk.

"All this is too much… maybe I do need a little… help… remembering who I am… but you can’t drop all this heavy on me now, I have a title shot to claim... Let’s talk after!"

Miss Furry nods and steps back. Graves watches her leave, muttering to himself after she’s gone.

"…fuckin’ Mark…"

Todd: "Whoa… So now Graves is saying that it WAS him that we were watching over the last year… and not very convincingly—what is he really up to?"

Bama T: "I told ya, baby! That concussions' affecting his memory! Classic pro wrestling injury, and Graves is tackling it like a classic pro wrestler!"

Todd: "Yeah… okay,. but with Graves, you can never trust what he says… or what he’s planning next."

HIDE YOUR COOKIES.

HIDE YOUR KIDS.

SANTA GRAVY'S...

HERE!

Then—>

Out stumbles a giant sleigh built out of de-wheeled shopping carts. Rust. Duct tape. A busted lawn Santa zip-tied to the front. and dragging it?

BIG. FREAKIN’. PREESH!

Preesh stomps down the ramp in an ill-fitting reindeer costume that looks like it was sourced from the dumpster at the Salvation Army.

Santa Gravy’s standing in the sleigh holding reins made out of extension cords he clearly stole from backstage.

Gravy starts digging through his Santa gift bag and hurling baggies of Elf Snow into the crowd. One dude catches one and immediately looks around him, unsure if he should stay for the match or book it before the cops show.

Another bag nails a kid’s dad in the forehead and explodes in white dust.

As the sleigh rattles its way down the ramp, Gravy points to the camera with a candy cane that’s somehow already sharpened on one end.

”I SEE YOU WHEN YOU’RE BLEEDIN’!

I KNOW WHEN YOU’RE A FAKE!

I KNOW WHEN YOU’VE BEEN OH SO DUMB—AND I’M GONNA STAB YOU WITH THIS STAKE!”

Preesh finally makes it to ringside wheezing like a dying pig. He unhooks himself and throws his arms into the air, screaming:

“YEAH BITCHES, CHRISTMAS!”

Gravy climbs out of the sleigh and slithers under the bottom rope.

More Elf Snow bags fly and someone in the front row gets hit in the mouth.

They swallow it.

Gravy drops the bag, coat, and rips off the beard.

He backs into his corner, notably still brandishing that sharp-ass candy cane.

TODD: One of the BEST and most deranged wrestlers to ever enter the XWF, Anarchy megastar, living legend, veteran. Micheal Graves, often copied but the original is here tonight and Bama I’ve got chills!

TODD: Got to feel for Mr. Oz here, this is his third match of the night! And a last man standing at that!

BAMA: The big doofus brought it on himself, baby! And look at the 100% authentic gen-u-ine article that is Micheal Graves! Back in full form, in the best shape he’s been in-

TODD: You think?

BAMA: Yes, Todd! He’s a well-oiled deviant! Oz may have heart but Graves has a pacemaker that runs on SOULS!

MR. OZ
- vs -
‘ASSUREDLY’ MICHEAL GRAVES

LAST MAN STANDING

The winner will become the #1 Contender to the Anarchy Championship!

DING! DING! DING!

Oz steps out the corner looking worse for wear from his previous bouts this evening as Graves cracks his neck and moves in motioning for a test of strength. Oz accepts raising his hand to meet Graves and the second their fingertips touch The Dark Warrior sends a ferocious kick into Oz’s moneybags! Getting a well-deserved round of boos from the crowd.

As Oz doubles over clutching his groin Graves sucker punches him with a brutal haymaker to the temple.

Oz drops like a sack of spuds, his eyes trying to focus as the ref starts the ten count.

1!

..

2!

Oz grabs the middle rope on the three and forces himself up as Graves approaches from his deadliest position, the rear but Oz throws a stray elbow and knocks Micheal aside before flipping over into a Pele Kick and nailing the back of Graves neck!

TODD: No matter how many times I see it I’m always surprised by Oz’s athleticism.

BAMA: I think our One of a Kind Micheal Graves was surprised by it too.

The two fall to the mat but Graves gets up first shaking the cobwebs as Oz rolls out of the ring for a quick breather before turning round and rug-pulling Graves, forcing him to fall onto his back before grabbing his leg and smashing it into the steel turnbuckle post! Graves lets out a howl of pain as Oz takes a moment to regain his stamina.

Graves hobbles up on a weak leg as he eyeballs Oz on the outside and runs the ropes looking for a suicide dive but quick thinking and reflexes on Oz’s part, Graves only meets the tail end of a ladder as Oz retrieves it from under the mat and smashes it into a flying Gravy!

Gravy crumples onto the ground in agony but begins letting out a sadistic laugh as Oz raises the ladder high above his head and smashes it down on Graves!

Oz then sets the ladder up above Gravy, pinning him underneath and begins climbing it halfway to push his weight down as Graves struggles.The ref begins the count!

1

..

2

..

3

..

BAMA: Genius move by Mr. Oz! 300 plus pounds sat firmly on Gravy here!

TODD: That’s a usual Saturday for him.

4

..

Gravy uses all his strength to push up on the ladder before planting his feet on the apron!

5

And Graves pushes against the apron to topple the ladder and Oz crashes spine first into the barricade!

The ladder clattering on top of him before steadying beside him, angled on the barricade.

Graves lets out a choked cough as he scrambles to his feet and sprints forward up the ladder which seesaws as he reaches the peak and Gravy jumps off and crushes Oz with a huge crossbody splash!

The crowd pop as the two spill into the seats!

The ref makes his way down as Graves pushes himself to his feet, grabbing Oz by the collar and waist and bowling him into the steel chairs at ringside as fans desperately get out of the way and Oz clatters into the chairs, spilling them out as his body rolls through the wreckage. Graves fist pumps making his strike before grabbing a chair on his slow walk to Oz and launches it at Mr. Oz who crawls in agony!

Then Gravy picks up another and launches it at him again.

And again.

AND AGAIN!

Before finally making his way to Oz and grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and pulling him up with a diabolical laugh, blood cascades down Oz who steels himself with a roar and throws a stiff elbow into Graves gut before grabbing him tight, lifting him in the air and locking in a gnarly bear hug!

Oz thrashes Graves as bones crack and Gravy’s laughter turns into choked gasps.

Graves grabs Oz’s shoulders and throws a headbutt into Oz who grits through the pain, unmoving his wide eyes glaring at Graves as blood pours down his forehead. Graves throws another but Oz locks in more and on the third headbutt Oz roars and turns runs with Graves in his hold and like a fright train barges through fans and chairs before exiting through the barricade next to the ramp!

BAMA: Holy SHIT!

The pair collapse near the ramp unmoving. Graves grasps his back as Oz lays still. The ref rushes over and throws his hand in the air for the-

1!

..

2!

..

3!

TODD: This could end like this!

4!

BAMA: Neither of these lunatics are gonna give like this, baby!

5!

Gravy lifts his head grabbing the ramp.

6!

As Oz crawls to a knee.

7!

BAMA: Told ya!

8!

And Oz is up first!

9!

And Graves just gets up in time! Putting his back against the ramp as Oz rushes in and bowls Gravy over with a clothesline!

Micheal ends up on the ramp and drunkenly rushes to his feet as Oz climbs up and throws a right forcing Graves up the ramp! Who fights back and the two brawl up to the stage before a slow punch is ducked by Graves and he grabs Oz for a fallaway slam!

Tossing Oz right through the glass partition at the side of the entrance!

BAMA: GODDAMN!

The crowd pop huge as both men are on the hard steel of the ramp, Oz on the other side covered in glass shards.

TODD: I knew having glass there tonight was a terrible idea.

BAMA: Looks great though.

TODD: Looked great, Bama.

The ref awkwardly motions through the debris to check on Oz before beginning his count again.

1!

..

2!

..

3!

BUT GRAVES THROWS THE REF ASIDE!

TODD: The hell is he doing!?

BAMA: He’s got a taste for blood! He’s rabid, baby!

Graves grabs a broken Oz and pulls him out of the wreckage before spinning him around and sending him headfirst into the other glass panel!

BUT OZ COMES ALIVE!

Halting himself and tearing Graves face and mask with a forearm of glass!

Oz falls back in pain as Graves grabs at his face.

Oz rushes in!

Shoulder barge to Graves gut forcing him to the edge of the stage!

AND OZ LIFTS GRAVES!

TODD: SLEEP NOW SWEET CHILD O’ MINE!!!

HUGE GTS SEND GRAVES REBOUNDING OFF OZ’S KNEE AND OFF THE STAGE!

Falling several feet onto hard concrete!

Oz falls to a knee out of breath, given everything he’s got as the ref peers over the edge and starts his count!

1!

..

2!

..

3!

..

4!

BAMA: Holy shit he did it! I doubted Oz but by god he pulled through.

5!

TODD: Three matches in one night is no easy feat but another win here is monumental!

6!

..

7!

EI-OOOF!

CHAIR SHOT TO THE REF!

TODD: WHAT THE HELL!?!!?

The ref topples down from the stage as Oz looks to the assailant…

BAMA: THERE’S TWO MICHEAL GRAVES’S!!!!?!?!

Oz is in disbelief as the other Graves looks down and quickly sprints away as Oz tries to grab him!

BAMA: There can’t be two of them! One of them must be some kind of… Tribute!

TODD: No matter what it is, that fake Gravy just cost Oz the match!

Oz in disbelief yells out before jumping off the stage gets to the ref and tries to rouse him.

BAMA: This is a travesty!

TODD: You’re telling me, Bama! This could have been history tonight.

The ref stirs and begins to get up with Oz above him but Graves pounces on Oz!

His hands grasped tightly around Oz’s throat throwing away any kind of strategy and just trying to strangle the life out of him.

Oz struggles as Graves pushes down on his throat, blood dripping onto Oz from Gravy’s mauled face.

Oz scratches at Gravy’s arms as he fades.

Until-

BAMA: I FAILED YOU!!!

Oz forces his hand into Graves' maw for his signature mandible claw!

Gravy’s grasp loosens as he begins to panic!

Oz screams at Graves atop him as the ref comes too, finally.

And as Gravy begins to fade, the pain too much he lets out a wretch.

And-

TODD: POISON MIST!!!!!!!!!!

Almost vomiting the blue mist onto Oz’s face, the mist covers him.

Oz tries to fight through it, but the sleep overpowers him.

And as Gravy is about to give in.

Oz fades first, his arm dropping to his side.

Gravy falls back onto his ass breathing heavily as the ref counts.

1!

TODD: That cheating bastard!

2!

BAMA: We have no idea if Gravy planned for his doppelganger, Todd! It could be anyone!

4!

TODD: Oz was right there. RIGHT THERE!!! He got his win stolen.

6!

Gravy smiles to himself putting his back to the wall as he tries not to pass out himself.

7!

BAMA: After what we’ve seen tonight, might not count Oz out yet, baby!

8!

Oz’s hand grips the floor.

9!

Gravy’s eyes go wide as Oz’s arm moves up!

10!

But sadly falls back down.

Winner - Micheal Graves

The camera fades in on the ring, already bearing the scars of earlier violence. All three men are already inside the ring, each posted up in a corner of their own choosing. Centurion stands tall and unmoving, stoic in his resolve. Dickie Watson circles the perimeter with measured steps and loose shoulders. Kieran King leans back in his corner, one arm draped over the top rope, his expression unreadable but calculating.

Todd: And now, we are all set for tonight’s MAIN EVENT! The current Universal Champion, DICKIE WATSON! The FORMER Universal Champion, Kieran King! And then, OF COURSE, The Anarchy LEGEND- CENTURION!
Bama: I can’t believe that Centurion asked for this match! It’s basically a death sentence for him! He’s like a piece of meat out there, caught between our two most recent Universal Champions!
Todd: Well Bama’, I don’t think he asked for this stipulation! I think it was forced on him by Dick Lichter, because, well- he’s a DICK!
Bama: Either way, we are in for one hell of a show tonight! Who’s going to walk away victoriously? And will Centurion even be able to survive? We’re about to find out!

DING! DING! DING!

No one moves when the bell rings.

For a long beat, the three men simply assess one another.

Dickie is the first to step forward, testing Centurion with a low kick to the thigh. Centurion absorbs it, barely shifting his weight. Dickie follows with another, then a third, snapping his hips into each strike, targeting the base.

Centurion responds with a sudden forearm that sends Dickie stumbling backward into the ropes.

Kieran smiles.

He darts in from the side, clipping Centurion with a sharp kick to the knee, then immediately retreats. No follow-up. No commitment. Just damage and distance!

Centurion turns slowly, eyes locked on Kieran.

Todd: Both Dickie and Kieran seem to have their sights set on Centurion! They’re not wasting any time with each other here tonight!
Bama: Well of course, Todd! The only way they can win is by pinning Centurion- and the only way Centurion can win is by pinning BOTH of them!

Dickie charges again, hammering Centurion with rapid forearms, trying to keep him off balance. Centurion backs up a step, then plants and fires back with a crushing elbow that snaps Dickie’s head sideways.

The crowd roars as Centurion grabs Dickie by the wrist and whips him across the ring.

Dickie rebounds.

Centurion lifts-

And a thunderous slam rattles the canvas!

Centurion hooks the leg-

One!

KICKOUT!

The force of Dickie’s kickout causes Centurion to fly off of him, but Kieran rushes right in! Kieran snaps a quick kick to Dickie’s ribs while he’s still down.

But then, Centurion rises and charges Kieran.

Kieran slides between the ropes and drops to the floor, laughing, forcing Centurion to halt. There are no count outs, so there are no consequences for King’s retreat!

Centurion turns back—

—and Dickie cracks him with a running knee to the jaw!

Centurion staggers.

Dickie presses, unloading a flurry of strikes, then drops low and snaps a leg kick that finally takes Centurion down to one knee.

The crowd senses momentum going the Champ’s way! They start chanting “DICK-E, DICK-E!”.

Dickie hooks Centurion’s head and wrenches him down into a grounded hold, grinding forearms into his face, trying to sap strength early.

Kieran slides back in behind them, dragging a steel chair into the ring!

The referee protests out of habit, but he knows there’s no rules in this match that he can enforce!

So Kieran just ignores him!

Kieran raises the chair—

—and Dickie shouts and shoves Centurion out of the way. The chair crashes into the mat instead.

Bama: WOAH! Dickie just saved Centurion!
Todd: Our Universal Champion isn’t one for dirty tricks! He wants a clean match here tonight!

Dickie spins and blasts Kieran with a forearm, then another, driving him back toward the corner!

Kieran scrambles, ducking a third shot and raking Dickie’s eyes. He snaps a kick to Dickie’s knee and shoves him into the turnbuckles.

Centurion surges up behind Kieran and grabs him by the throat.

The arena erupts as Kieran begins struggling for air!

Centurion lifts Kieran and throws him across the ring, sending him crashing hard into the opposite corner.

Centurion turns—

—and Dickie hits him with a stiff roundhouse kick that echoes through the building.

Centurion stumbles.

Dickie charges.

Centurion catches him mid-stride and plants him with a spine-rattling slam!

Centurion doesn’t waste time. He grabs Dickie, hauls him up, and drives him into the corner with a shoulder that nearly folds him in half.

Centurion unloads heavy strikes, each one deliberate.

Kieran, barely upright, launches himself from the corner and drives the chair into Centurion’s back.

Once.

Twice.

Centurion drops to one knee.

Kieran swings again—

Centurion catches the chair! Centurion rips it from Kieran’s hands and tosses it out of the ring like scrap metal.

Kieran backs up, panic flashing across his face as he’s just been disarmed.

Centurion steps forward…

But Dickie charges from behind and clips Centurion’s leg, finally taking the Anarchy legend down!

Dickie hooks Centurion’s leg and rolls him onto his back.

One!

KICKOUT!!

Centurion powers out violently! Dickie rolls away, breathing hard. Kieran immediately pounces on Dickie, stomping him into the mat, then drags him toward the ropes and chokes him with the bottom strand.

The referee warns him again, uselessly.

Centurion pushes himself up and charges, booting Kieran off Dickie and sending him rolling.

Centurion grabs Dickie and hoists him up—

—and plants him with the 1000 Mile Slam, a devastating, full-force maneuver that shakes the ring!

The crowd goes nuts as Centurion hooks the leg for the pin!

One!

Two!!

Three!!!

DICKIE WATSON HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!

Bama: Dickie Watson has been pinned. Dickie is eliminated!
Todd: Centurion just took out the Universal Champion! This is insane!

Dickie lies motionless, chest heaving, eyes unfocused.

But Centurion doesn’t celebrate.

He turns immediately toward Kieran.

Kieran is already moving.

Kieran throws himself at Centurion, desperation in every strike, hammering forearms, kicks, elbows, trying to keep Centurion from resetting.

But Centurion just absorbs them, ala Hulk Hogan mid-hulking!

The crowd begins chanting his name!

That’s when Kieran decides to run the ropes—

But Centurion catches him!

Centurion lifts—

—and hits the 1000 Mile Slam on Kieran!

The building shakes with excitement! The fans can’t believe what they’re seeing!

Centurion covers!

One!

TWO!!

THREE- NO!

Kieran kicks out at the last possible millisecond!

Bama: He kicked out! He kicked out! The King just kicked out!

Todd: Centurion almost had him! Centurion almost had this match won!

Centurion sits up, stunned. Kieran rolls onto his side, coughing, eyes wild, his survival instinct kicking in as Centurion’s dominance continues.

Centurion rises and hauls Kieran up again, looking to end it for good this time.

But Kieran snaps a sudden headbutt!

Centurion staggers.

AND KIERAN FIRES OFF A LOW-BLOW!

The crowd boos mercilessly.

But Kieran doesn’t give a damn. He drives Centurion into the turnbuckle, stomps him down, then drags him out and spikes him with an F YOUR HEAD!

Centurion’s limp body folds lifelessly against the mat!

Kieran collapses atop him for the cover.

One!

Two!!

Three!!!

Winner by Pinfall – Kieran King

Todd: That dirty son of a bitch! Chairshots, headbutts, low blows- he pulled out every trick in his book…and he still BARELY got past Centurion! I don’t care what anyone says, tonight was a victory for Centurion! He showed that he can hang with anybody inside that ring!

Bama: A victory for Centurion? Are you daft, Todd?! King just won the match! He just took Dickie and Centy to task!

The crowd rains boos as Kieran rolls off Centurion, chest heaving, a crooked smile spreading across his face.

Centurion lies still, spent.

Kieran rises slowly… then starts stomping Centurion again.

Over and over!

The referee shouts for the bell crew, but the officials hesitate to interfere.

Todd: Oh my God! This match is already over, but Kieran King just won’t stop! Someone needs to get in there and help Centurion!

Suddenly—

Dickie Watson slides back into the ring to stop the beatdown!

The crowd erupts as Dickie tackles Kieran from behind, raining down punches!

Kieran scrambles free, rolling away, then surges back with a sudden, vicious uppercut that drops Dickie cold!

Dickie starts to collapse- but Kieran isn’t having any of that! Instead, Kieran just smirks….and then hits another F YOUR HEAD- on Dickie this time!

Kieran gets up and stands over him, breathing hard, his eyes burning with the rage of a King dethroned.

A ringside official slides the Universal Championship into the ring towards Dickie…

But Kieran snatches it!

Christmas-themed confetti begins to fall from the rafters, red and green fluttering through the air as Kieran plants a boot on Dickie Watson’s chest and raises the title high above his head.

The final image is Kieran King standing tall, title held aloft, confetti raining down, two fallen men at his feet.

Bama: And that’s why they call him THE KING! That ring is his castle, and that championship is his throne!

Todd: ‘That championship’ belongs to Dickie Watson! And Kieran King is nothing but a dirty, cheating thug!

Bama: Be that as it may, Todd- but we are out of time this week! Kieran King showed his dominance, and now, he’s ending the year with a MASSIVE victory over that usurper, Dickie Watson!

Todd: Folks, make sure you tune in next year- because I have a feeling that Kieran King is about to get his just come-uppance…just, not this year!

Bama: Guten Nachten, everybody!

THANKS FOR ALL OUR MATCH WRITERS

ATTICUS GOLD
PETER PRINCIPLE
CHARLIE NICKLES
VINNIE LANE

AND OUR SEGMENT WRITERS

BIG GRAVY
CLUTCH CASSIDY
KRISTOFFER ‘COUNT DRACULA’ ARROYO
SCOOPS Mick-GG
‘KING’ KIERAN ‘THE KING’ KING

& THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO RPed!

]]>

Christmas on Anarchy!
[Image: XMAS-ANARCHY.png]

12 - 18 - 2025

LIVE FROM UBER ARENA!

BERLIN, GERMANY

Mr. Oz
- vs -
Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing

TABLES MATCH

SAFARI STU
- vs -
ABEL GRACIE

SINGLES MATCH

LEVI CARWIN
- vs -
RAZOR BLADE

X-TREME RULEZ

MR. OZ
- vs -
MARISOL VILARO

Oz’s Christmas Special!

Mr. Oz gets to pick the stipulation in his roleplay! The winner will become the #1 Contender to the Revolution Championship!

MR. OZ
- vs -
‘ASSUREDLY’ MICHEAL GRAVES

LAST MAN STANDING

The winner will become the #1 Contender to the Anarchy Championship!

Oswald stands amidst an indie metal band, watching the ring, looking at the band. Soon a choir is heard as the band begins to play his theme song. He walks towards the lead guitarist, clapping him gently on the back so as to not mess up her playing. Oswald, walks down the ramp, the bottom of his white cloak dragging along the ground. Once at the ring, he'd leap onto the apron before launching himself to show how strong and agile he was to lift such mass with such ease right over the top rope and de-cloaked himself, placing it in his corner before stretching out his arms in a lower case t and roaring out to the crowd before going and sitting on top of his cloak, awaiting the bell as he mentally plans out the match, as well as how to try and beat his opponent.

TODD: Mister Oz has declared himself the face of Anarachy! And he’s set out to prove it by wrestling three! THREE matches! All in a single night!

BAMA: It’s an almost unheard of feat, Toddrick! Made even more impressive by the fact that he’s carrying the X-Treme title! At least a one-fifth share of it!

TODD: …Oh my god, Bama! Charlie Nickles can’t declare the entire Corporation as freebirding the X-Treme title!

BAMA: Preston Vanderlay Esquire drafted the contract himself, Todd! And he’s a genius of fine print! It’s definitely an unconventional title structure… With a crack legal team like PVE, Jennie Nickles… and a Doctor like Doctor Holly Cambric? I think Charlie did it! I think he successfully split the belt five-ways! And that means Oz’s wins tonight count towards the Corporation’s defense count on their way to a briefcase!

TODD: Completely false.

…

Free-Bird X-Treme Title match(???)
Mister Oz
- vs -
Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing
Tables Match

Winne via Table: Mister Oz

Winner by Pinfall: Abel Gracie

LEVI CARWIN
- vs -
RAZOR BLADE

X-TREME RULEZ

Winner by Pinfall – ‘Za Juicah’ Levi Carwin

MARISOL VILARÓ
- vs -
MISTER OZ
Meathooks of Horror Match
Hanging from the rafters is a large, rusty meathook.

The only way to win is to… immobilize your opponent.

[amatch]HIGHLIGHT REEL

Winner and new #1 Contender to the XWF Revolution Title: Mister Oz

HIDE YOUR COOKIES.

HIDE YOUR KIDS.

SANTA GRAVY'S...

HERE!

Then—>

Out stumbles a giant sleigh built out of de-wheeled shopping carts. Rust. Duct tape. A busted lawn Santa zip-tied to the front. and dragging it?

BIG. FREAKIN’. PREESH!

MR. OZ
- vs -
‘ASSUREDLY’ MICHEAL GRAVES

LAST MAN STANDING

The winner will become the #1 Contender to the Anarchy Championship!

Winner - Micheal Graves

DICKIE WATSON HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!

Winner by Pinfall – Kieran King

]]> <![CDATA[ANARCHY - 11/6/25]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=49470 Fri, 07 Nov 2025 00:10:58 -0800 'Big' Dick Lichter]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=49470

XWF Anarchy
[Image: vuE1ZV0.png]

11 - 06 - 2025

LIVE FROM THE FABRIK MADRID!

MADRID, SPAIN

LATOYA HIXX
- vs -
SIR LIONEL PENNYFARTHING
- vs -
LEVI CARWIN

TRIPLE THREAT!

JOHN BLACK
- vs -
MARISOL VILARO
- vs -
EL LANDERSON
- vs -
YA'LL KNOW WHO

FATAL FOURWAY!

CELESTINE GALE
- vs -
SCHISM

TABLE'S MATCH!

THE DIRECTOR
- vs -
MR. OZ

THE DIRECTOR'S CUT:

The match takes place on a soundstage, in front of a live studio audience! AND BARBED-WIRE IS EVERYWHERE!

LARRY TACT
- vs -
BETSY GRANGER

FALLS COUNT ANYWHERE!

SCOOPS MCGEE
- vs -
CLUTCH CASSIDY

AUTO SHOP BRAWL! KO YOUR OPPONENT TO WIN!

XXXVI ©
- vs -
'SPOILED' SUMMER PAGE

REVOLUTION CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH!

SUMMER PAGE GETS TO PICK THE STIPULATION IN HER ROLEPLAY!

TODD: Welcome to tonight’s edition of XWF Anarchy, the final go-home show before War Games! And trust me, boys and girls…we’ve got an action-packed lineup for you folks tonight!

BAMA: That’s right, Toddy! Tonight’s main event has been long awaited, as Summer Page finally gets to take on XXXVI for the Revolution Championship in a PURE RULES match!

TODD: And before that, we have a boiling hot rematch between Centurion and Atara Raven!

BAMA: And don’t forget, we get to see The Director in singles action for the first-time ever as he takes on Mr. Oz in a “Director’s Cut” match!

TODD: And that’s just the start of it! We have Scoops McGee in action, we have Clutch Cassidy in action, and heck- WE EVEN HAVE SCHISM IN ACTION HERE TONIGHT!

BAMA: But first and foremost, Todddy: we have a triple threat to start off the show!

TODD: That’s right, Bama’! Indy sensation Levi Carwin is making his XWF debut tonight against none other than Latoya Hixx and the honorable Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing!

BAMA: This is going to be a barn-burner, Toddy, I can already tell!

TODD: Well then let’s not waste another SECOND- and let’s get straight to the action!

Lionel prances to the ring, dressed straight out of an off-Broadway production of Hamlet.

He does vocal exercises as he strides confidently down the ramp. He steps up the ring steps, and takes into the ring, doing a series of deep knee-bends in the corner as he waits for the show to commence.

LATOYA HIXX
- vs -
SIR LIONEL PENNYFARTHING
- vs -
LEVI CARWIN

TRIPLE THREAT!

TODD: This one’s going to be… something, Bama.

BAMA: Oh, it’s somethin’ alright. We got a bodybuilder, a diva, and a guy who looks like he got lost on his way to the Renaissance Festival.

The bell rings.

Latoya charges first, swinging for the fences, but Levi doesn’t even flinch. He catches her by the arm and slings her halfway across the ring like she’s made of paper. She crashes to the mat, rolls to the corner, and blinks in disbelief.

Sir Lionel applauds.

“Bravo! Bravo! Such strength! Such stage presence!” he declares.

Levi turns slowly.

Sir Lionel immediately drops to one knee. “Spare me, good sir! I am but an artist!”

Levi grabs him by the collar and lifts him effortlessly off the ground. The audience laughs as Lionel’s legs kick in midair. Levi tosses him out of the ring like a bag of garbage.

Latoya takes advantage, sprinting in with a running forearm…but she gets caught! Levi snatches her mid-strike and plants her with a belly-to-belly suplex that shakes the ring.

TODD: There’s just no moving the newbie, Levi Carwin!

BAMA: He’s built like a bank vault and hits like a freight train. This kid has potential!

Levi stalks forward. Latoya fires off a flurry of kicks—quick, snappy shots that land against his thigh and ribs—but he barely budges. She spins for a roundhouse. Levi catches her again and slams her with a one-arm spinebuster that leaves her flat and gasping.

Sir Lionel slides back into the ring holding a director’s megaphone. “CUT! CUT! Terrible lighting! We must retake the scene!”

Levi looks at him like a lion looks at a goat.

Lionel freezes. “Ah. Improvisation! My greatest strength!”

Lionel bravely goes for a collar-and-elbow tie-up. Levi shoves him backward so hard he does a full backflip into the corner. Lionel looks up, dazed, and confused.

Levi ignores him and instead grabs Latoya, dragging her upright by her hair. Latoya spits in his face and smacks him across the chest.

But one monstrous lariat from Carwin nearly turns her inside out.

The crowd gasps.

TODD: Good grief! That might’ve dislocated something!

BAMA: Everything she’s got, he’s got double! Power, size, and attitude!

Latoya tries to crawl to the ropes, but Levi steps on her back, pinning her there. He leans down, snarling something too quiet for the camera to catch, then grabs her by the wrist and drags her to the middle of the ring.

Sir Lionel, meanwhile, has produced a fake sword from under the apron.

“En garde!” he declares, jabbing toward Levi after he slides back into the ring.

Levi just looks at him.

Lionel gulps and immediately drops the sword. “On second thought, perhaps a peaceful resolution is in order…”

Levi grabs the sword and snaps it in half over his knee.

Lionel faints backward, throwing himself against the ropes in theatrical agony. Levi just shakes his head at Lionel before he turns back to Latoya, who’s somehow on her feet again, swinging wildly. She lands a slap. Then another. She screams and comes at Carwin with everything she has.

But Levi catches her around the waist, lifts her high overhead, and delivers a running over the shoulder powerslam combination: first one is ran into the corner, then he spins around to slam his opponent. He bounces her off the mat like a rubber ball!

The fans erupt.

TODD: That’s gotta be it!

BAMA: That’s not a trademark move, that’s a felony!

Levi doesn’t go for the pin. Instead, he hears Sir Lionel behind him.

Lionel’s standing on the second rope, arms raised, trying to get the crowd to chant with enthusiasm.

Levi grabs him out of midair like catching a beach ball, hoists him up, and drives him down with a Gutwrench sit-out powerbomb so violent the crowd actually gasps!

Levi stands tall over the wreckage. Latoya writhing in pain, Lionel spread-eagle like he’s taking a nap in the middle of a battlefield.

He shakes his head, then drags Lionel’s limp body on top of Latoya’s.

He puts one heavy boot across both of their chests.

1!

2!!

3!!!

Winner: Levi Carwin

TODD: An impressive debut from start to finish! Levi Carwin just bulldozed through both opponents!

BAMA: He stacked ‘em like pancakes and served up a full breakfast of pain! You can’t script dominance like that, Toddy!

TODD: Latoya gave it her all, Sir Lionel gave… whatever that was, but tonight belonged to Levi Carwin! And I can’t wait to see what the XWF’s newest signing does next!

TODD: Folks, our next match is going to be a Fatal 4-Way! Between four very different competitors!

BAMA: Fo REAL, Toddrick! If you made a venn diagram of these four competitors, it’d almost be four separate circles!

TODD: Save for the fact that they are all very capable XWF competitors!

We see the X-Tron come to life, and we see "John Black" name shot up with the .38 special, and we see him at the stage in a black and white setting as he is standing there taking in the mixed reactions.

TODD: There he is! John Black! The militant mind behind the THUGs! He pulled a shocking upset victory over Atara Raven, the current reigning Anarchy champion, on Warfare!

BAMA: It was a controversial victory to say the least, with the THUGs sticking their nose in that ladder match. But the record books say John Black has a recent victory over the Anarchy champ!

TODD: Is he on the docket of potential challengers for Atara’s big blue belt? It’s hard to say, but a victory tonight over this competitive field would certainly give JB a strong case to be Atty’s first title challenger!

John walks down to the ramp, and he gives them some high fives, then he climbs on the steel steps and enters the ring, and he raises his fist in the air as he pounds his chest around the ring as his theme cuts off.

…

Marisol comes out to the ring, with Snarktopus Nessa Wail her valet flanking her! “Shake it Off” by Taylor Swift is playing.

TODD: Shorter, more compact entrance this week for Marisol Vilaro! She’s been dominant on Anarchy… but she came just short facing Summer Page at Relentless, with a #1 contender’s shot for the Revolution Title on the line.

BAMA: Mari is desperate for Anarchy gold. And she’s been crushing the competition in non-title matches. If Summer beats XXXVI later tonight, you gotta imagine Mar wants to be first in line for that gold!

Mari reaches the ring, flexing and posing powerfully as the song stops.

…

When Booyka 619 hit's he walks out on stage and kneels down on one knee and prays. He gets up and points to the Fans in Pyro fireworks burst open and switch to the other side of the stage in does the same thing in

TODD: El Landerson! The Bit Luchador! He’s faced some of the best talents the XWF has to offer, including Ace Sky, Razor Blade, and Jennie Nickles!

BAMA: Landerson’s been fiery and entertaining! But don’t forget, he’s made enemies too! One of the competitors in this match apparently has a score to settle with Landerson! And he’s not waiting until WarGames to settle that score!

after he was done he slowly walks down the ramp in slaps some little kids high fives and he stops and stares at the kid in hands him his Luchdor Mask to him and heads straight towards the ring and hops on the turnbuckle and pose both fingers in mid air and walks to the other side turnbuckle in does the same thing mid finger in the air in he gets down and wait for his Opponent arrive.

…

Some Guy...

Some Guy?

Yeah, That Guy.

That Guy bursts through the curtains with a microphone.

He raps the opening bars of his entrance theme.

"Y'ALREADY KNOW WHO IT IS, SO I'M NOT GONNA SAY IT! YOU KNOW WHAT I DO SO NO NEED TO TELL YOU!"

"YES! THE BOY'S GOT NOTHIN' NEW TO SHARE! SO, I'M NOT SURE WHY I'M ON THE MIC, TO BE FAIR!"

He walks along the side of the entrance ramp to the fans in the audience.

"CUZ Y'ALL KNOW ABOUT..."

He holds the mic out to the crowd. No one says anything...

"Y'ALL KNOW WHY..."

He does it again... Nothing.

"Y'ALL KNOW HOW..."

The same. Silence.

"Y'ALL KNOW WHY I FUCKIN' LOVE BOYSENBERRIES!"

TODD: This man is… frankly, to this day, I have no idea who this is. But he claims El Landerson… lemme check my notes… killed his partners? Along with Razor Blade and the Hixx sisters?

BAMA: Rest in Peace Gerald Cosgrove, Leland Pennyworth, and Andre Smith! Gone but not forgotten!

TODD: I think they are, Bama, in that there’s no records of those three men ever existing! But, regardless, YKW has declared his intent to pursue vengeance against all four of his opponents at WarGames! AND that he intends to… double-checking my notes again… literally kill EL Landerson?

BAMA: Hell yeah, this fata four-way just got even more interesting!

YKWhands the mic to someone from the ring crew, as to not break it, before sliding into the ring, ready to go!

JOHN BLACK
- vs -
MARISOL VILARO
- vs -
EL LANDERSON
- vs -
YA'LL KNOW WHO

FATAL FOURWAY!

HIGHLIGHT REEL

The bell rings and all four competitors charge into each other like a car crash!

Black charges toward the center of the ring, going after Vilaro… But El Landerson springboards off the apron over the top rope, hitting a Reverse Crossbody on John Black!

Vilaro peers stunned watching the action explore in front of her… when, from the side, Y’all Know Who grabs Marisol Vilaró and starts shouting, “I CALL THIS MOVE RIO DE JANEIRO ‘97 AFTER THE MOVE I LANDED IN RIO DE JANEIRO ON 97 MEN!”

TODD: What the hell happened in Rio De Janeiro, Bama!

BAMA: Y’already know!

TODD: I really don’t!

YKW switches to a side headlock, going to run up the turnbuckle…

RIO DE JANEIRO ‘97!

…Is blocked by an elbow from Vilaró to YKW’s gut!

TODD: So… the Rio De Janeiro ‘97 is… getting elbowed in the stomach?

BAMA: Apparently, Toddrick!

Vilaró drives YKW into the corner and unloads a flurry of boot chokes and spinning wrist locks, pounding the mysterious enigma into paste…

Landerson springs from the mat onto the middle rope, diving after John Black…

But Black catches Landerson with a boot the gut! Landerson crash lands on the mat!

TODD: Oof! Landerson landed hard!

BAMA: You think that landing was hard? Black’s almost too make Landerson BLACK OUT!
John Black snorts angrily, as he rips Landerson by the scruff of the neck off the mat… Front-facelock position…

Into a brutal Blacka Jacka (Brainbuster)!

TODD: Oh my! This one could be over!

The crowd groans at the impact as Black rises, breathing heavy as he crawls into a cover on Landerson…

The official counts…

ONE!

TWO!

THR-NO! Vilaró boots Black in the back of the head, breaking up the pin!

Black snaps to his feet, looking for a backfist! But Mari ducks it, boots Black in the stomach… And hooks him for a…

SNAP SUPLEX!

Todd: “Marisol showing off those Vilaró Fitness System results!”
Bama: “She’s got more core strength than a CrossFit cult, Todd.”

Vilaro and Black trade right hands outside the ring… El Landerson slowly rises from the mat and sees two of his opponents by the announce table… He does the Catholic Sign of the Cross… He sprints for the ropes!

He dives through them!

SPEAR TAKING OUT BLACK AND VILARO! They all land in a heap by the announce table!

TODD: What could follow that, Bama?

YKW stands up from the corner and hits the crowd with finger guns…

As all three competitors by the table slowly rise, YKW sprints for the ropes…

LEAPING OVER!

Tope Suicida that wipes out everyone at ringside!

TODD: YKW trying to show El Landerson that anything he can do, Y’already know someone can do it better!

BAMA: …Who?

Back inside the ring, Vilaró aims a high kick at Landerson’s head… But Landerson ducks it!

TODD: Easy to duck a high kick when you’re five foot two!

Vilaró spins, propelled by the force of her kick, spinning back to face Landerson… Who leaps like a superball onto her shoulders!

HURRICANRANA PIN!

The official drops to count!

ONE!

TWO!

TH-NO! Vilaró kicks out!

TODD: Mari is down center of the ring! Landerson might be in a spot to take this one!

Indeed, Landerson just dropkicked Mari onto her back, and has stepped out to the apron to climb to the top rope…

WHEN JOHN BLACK ALMOST DECAPITATES LANDERSON WITH A CLOTHESLINE!

Landerson does a full backflip and lands HARD on his face on the padded concrete outside the ring!

…Mari slowly rises up to her feet,

Black climbs back through the ropes, backing into the corner to assess the scene… As Mari starts a backwards handspring into the…

Vilaró Experience! Catching John Black in the face!

TODD: This match is absolute pandemonium

BAMA: And I’m loving every second of it!

Mari boots Landerson in the stomach! She hooks him in a front facelock!

TODD: This could be it! Mari calling for that finishing fisherman suplex!

Mari goes to lift Landerson…

But Landerson drops to the mat and wraps his legs around Mari’s ankle!

She drops forward, landing on the middle rope!

The crowd rises to their feet!

TODD: HERE WE GO! THE LANDERSON SIX ONE NINE!

Landerson points to the crowd! He breaks into a sprint for the ro-

WHAM!

Y’ALREADY KNEW HOW THIS WOULD END!

TODD: I did not!

(Superkick)

TODD: Oh.

BAMA: YKW caught Landerson flush with that one!

Landerson drops to his back… YKW smiles, looming over Landerson, eager to finish his longtime adversary…

WHEN JOHN BLACK BURSTS THROUGH WITH A LARIAT!

Both Black and YKW go sprawling out of the ring!

TODD: Both Black and YKW get knocked out of the ring! Leaving Landerson with… Marisol Vilaró!

…Mari shoves herself off the second rope… Just as Landerson exhaustedly works his way up to his knees…

Marisol hooks Landerson up and snaps him over with a picture-perfect Fisherman Suplex!

VILARÓIZER!

Mari hooks the leg! The official drops to count!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

Winner: Marisol Vilaró

Marisol Vilaró stands tall, smug grin plastered across her face as she flexes and does a few push-ups next to Landerson’s body.

TODD: Marisol Vilaró survives the chaos! She’s stolen one here tonight!

BAMA: That ain’t stealing, Todd. That’s business. Welcome to VilaroU!

TODD: Folks, this next one is a showcase for just how different competitors in the XWF can be!

BAMA: That’s putting it lightly, Toddrick! In one corner, we have Celestine Gale, an artist from another century, against the enigmatic revolutionary, Schism!

…

A single beam of pale light spills across the stage like moonlight through cathedral glass. From the veil of darkness emerges Celestine Gale, draped in her mourning attire of lace gloves, high collar, and overall Victorian Era vibe. Her footsteps are measured, deliberate, echoing faintly as “Dreams of a Lullaby” plays.

In her gloved hand rests a book, its spine cracked and edges frayed, as though rescued from some forgotten library. She pauses at the head of the ramp, eyes sweeping the masses with aristocratic disdain.

Celestine opens the book with reverence and summons a microphone from a stagehand, cutting her music off as well. She begins to read from the book, regaling the masses with a tale, her voice quiet, melodic, yet sharp enough to slice through the increasingly jeering crowd. She does not relent in the reading until the boos are too loud. Then, she closes the book gently and brushes the cover with her fingertips, like one might caress the cheek of a dead lover.

TODD: Well, that’s… something! Celestine Gale may no longer be possessed by the spirit that the Black Rainbow had imbued her with, but she sure does find modern times distasteful!

BAMA: This is gonna be a real test for Gale, Toddy baby! She was dominant AND undefeated as a Black Rainbow member, but that was with her poltergeist pal possessin’ her! She’s not only gotta go the road ahead without her spectral valet… she’s also facing a damn hardy opponent in Schism!

TODD: It should be made clear, Celestine Gale escaped her possessor/captor and tried to leave wrestling! But after a hard road trying to make it in our modern world, she’s come back to the XWF, not out of want, but out of need! A desperate woman, fighting to survive! How will she fare tonight?

Celestine then begins her descent down the ramp, every step unhurried, regal. When the fans jeer, she does not flinch, only lifts her chin, the faintest smirk curling her lip, as if amused by the desperation of those beneath her.

At ringside, she ascends the steel steps with the same grace one would approach an altar. Upon reaching the apron, she places the book upon the top turnbuckle and smooths her gloved hands across the cover.

With that, she slips between the ropes. The music fades, the lights settle into a dusky glow, and Celestine stands poised in the center of the ring, an immortal relic among the unworthy, awaiting the next act in her tragic opera.

…

Schism butts a cigarette out on the floor and rises from a seat in the audience nose-bleeds.

TODD: It’s hard to believe just sixty days ago how high the Revolution was riding! Dolly Waters was the Universal champion! ‘Micheal Graves’ was the Anarchy champion! Both XWF’s flagship programs were championed by the leaders of the Revolution!

BAMA: It feels like an eternity ago now, Toddrick! That’s how fast it is when the action never slows down! Dolly got beat at Relentless and vanished! ‘Graves’ defended his belt but got concussed after a post-match assault and had to vacate his title…

TODD: And now all that remains of the Revolution is Schism! Will he keep the fight going? Of course he will!

BAMA: But the last vestige of the Revolution is about to run headfirst into the 1800s brick and mortar wall that is Celestine Gale!

Schism make a nonchalant descent through the stadium, over the guardrail and under the bottom rope into the ring.

TODD: We’re about to kick this one off! The mysterious Celestine Gale—an artist from another century… faces off with the ever-unpredictable Schism! In a TABLES match!

BAMA: Gale cut a promo like tables were her best friend growin’ up! You might as well as made the stipulation a ‘Slam your opponent through Gale’s grandmother’ match with how much vitriol she had toward the modern wrestling world and its love of wanton destruction!

TODD: Schism definitely has less feelings about destroying tables… But Gale might have a little more fury and desperation going into this match!

CELESTINE GALE
- vs -
SCHISM

TABLE'S MATCH!

HIGHLIGHT REEL

TODD: And we’re underway!

Celestine stands perfectly still, eyes locked on Schism. Immobile.

TODD: …Though, it might be difficult to determine that.

BAMA: Do not adjust your sets, folks! The picture quality is fine, Gale just ain’t movin’!

Schism circles, unsure whether she’s even alive. Schism’s eyes dilate and squint curiously… Like Gale is a magic eye he’s trying to see the secret picture through…

TODD: Schism has beaten many opponents with his somewhat rope-a-dope style… Letting them attack him and penetrating with counter-punch style rebukes! Now, it looks like Schism’s gotta be the one to kick this off!

Finally, Schism obliges, lunging forward, looking to lock up with Gale!

…But, as Schism charges, Celestine effortlessly glides sideways, almost without motion blur, and sweeps his leg with a whipcrack motion!

TODD: Wow! Incredible quickness by Gale! It’s like she’s waiting for Schism’s movements! Like an artist trying to capture her model!

BAMA: She’s freakin’ me out is what she’s doing, Toddrick!
Bama: “She’s waitin’ to freak him out, that’s what she’s doin’. And it’s workin’, brother![/blue]

Schism blinks rapidly, like he’s trying to remember how he ended up on the mat, but Gale whips Schizz off the mat…

KNEE to the gut! Followed by a sweeping leg trip!

Followed by a leg-trap surfboard stretch!

TODD: An absolutely flawless display of control from Celestine Gale!

TODD: Gale has been unleashing a clinic of moves that are equals parts poetry, ballet, and HYPERVIOLENCE!

BAMA: You ain’t lyin’, Toddrick! If Schizz wants to get out of the startin’ gate, he’s gotta make his move now!

Gale has gotten Schism’s arm trapped between her legs, twisting into an armbar, as she bridges her back…

TODD: Unreal! This is like if Cirque du Soleil choreographed a forearm breaking!

Schism’s arm extends… like he might tap out…

…BUT he reaches forward toward Gale! And rakes her eyes! Gale covers her face, her body coiling in to defend itself! And Schism escapes!

TODD: Classic move by Schism! He’s got the vision to find an escape from that labyrinthine submission maneuver!

Gale rolls backwards out of her bridge… Charging forward…

But Schism is already charging her…

STRIKE! Haymark to the temple! Gale gets driven back against the corner!

TODD: And here comes Schism! Here comes the beating heart of the Revolution!

Celestine staggers, a smear of crimson across her lip. Schism raises his arm…

TODD: is he… I think Schizz is indicating towards his knee! Is he calling for… Running Waters?!?

…He backs up to the corner!

He charges Gale!

Looking for a…

RUNNIN-

No! As he charges, Gale bursts out of the corner, slipping by him… Before latching onto his skull!

DIVINCHI VORTEX! (Swinging fisherman’s neckbreaker with a wide spin)

With a theatrical flourish, she rolls off the mat back onto her feet, above her fallen opponent!

TODD: Wow! What a maneuver! You could hang that neckbreaker of Gale’s that in the Tate Modern!
BAMA: And you could hang Schizz in some sorta full body gurney after that move, Toddy baby! His neck’s twisted six ways!

TODD: Celestine’s done playing with her food… We’ve seen Schism pull off some miraculous performances tonight, but thus far, this one’s been all Celestine Gale!

BAMA: She’s set up that table behind Schism… And Schizz ain’ even realize he’s on the cusp of defeat!

Schism slowly exhaustedly rises off the mat…

Celestine moves in eerie rhythm now—pivot, glide, freeze– As if Tarantella dancing around her dazed, woozy opponent as he slowly rises to his feet…

She steps forward with a confident step… With what wits he has about him, Schism reels his foot back to raise his guard defensively… Not knowing the table is behind him…

Gale charges, looking for another…

DIVINCHI VORTEX THROUGH THE TABLE!

…But Schism spins, catching her from behind in a rear-naked choke!

BAMA: What the Hell?!? Did Schism know what she was planning there?!?

TODD: Schism’s been called the Vision of the Revolution! He might not have seen the table, but he saw what was coming and countered it beautifully!

Schism desperately tries to slip Gale from the choke down into his signature Guillotine!

TODD: That hold got Schism a pin on Sebastian Everett-Bryce! If he can lock it in… This one’s not over yet!

Schism, with all his might, desperately tries to drag Gale down into the Guillotine…

Celestine struggles, her movements fading to that eerie stillness again. She shifts, struggling, trying to break his grip…

Or so it appears… While Gale seemingly battles his grip, she also shifts him toward the ropes!

TODD: Schism’s almost got the Guillotine locked in… But I think Gale’s got a plan of her own!

Schism’s teeth grit with determination… He’s almost… Almost!

GOT I-

…NO! In a flash, Gale spins out, breaking his grip and standing before him, in front of the ropes! She boots him in the stomach before he can even put two and two together as to where they are in the ring…

She latches on a front-facelock…

Backs up into the ropes!

TODD: Celestine Gale is about to finish this match off with a masterstroke!

LEAPS OFF THE SECOND ROPE!

AND DDTS SCHISM THROUGH THE TABLE!

FINAL EXHIBIT!

DING DING DING!

Winner: Celestine Gale

TODD: Wow! An absolutely artful finish by Celestine Gale! If she can pull off sequences like that, I imagine her future on Anarchy is bright!

BAMA: Hard to say anything about Gale is bright, Toddrick. Instead, I’ll say… anyone booked against her? Their outlook is BLEAK.

Celestine releases her DDT grip slowly, rising in one smooth, deliberate motion. She doesn’t celebrate. She stares at Schism’s crumpled body, surrounded by shards of table as the lights dim slightly, her shadow stretching across the mat like a brushstroke over canvas.

TODD: This is going to be a clash of two distinct, different personalities, Bama!

BAMA: Yet somehow, there’s many similarities between these competitors! They both demand unquestioned loyalty from their followers! They’re both enigmatic in their motivations, but charismatic in their execution!

TODD: Fair points, Bama! These men have a few things in common! And one of them is a hunger to dominate their competition! Which means, when they go head-to-head in just a few moments, it’s set to be explosive!

The Director appears to silence initially, as he surveys the studio audience assembled before the soundstage, sitting on a gilded director's chair, with a black cloak at his back. "Whiplash" by Architects cracks the silence as four masked men, clad in all black, each mask bearing an X, O, triangle and square, respectively. As the music plays, they each grab a corner of the chair, lifting him and carrying him down the ramp like pall bearers.

TODD: …It is EERIE the level of dedication and devotion the Director’s followers exhibit for him.

BAMA: We don’t know much about him, Toddrick! Except he’s a former XWF talent… AND ONE-HALF of the Anarchy Tag Team Champions!

TODD: Yes, he and his prized student, XXXVI looked absolutely DOMINANT against Thunder Knuckles. You can call it a glorified handicap match, but the fact of the matter is the Director’s designs led directly to his team claiming the Tag Titles at Spirit Halloween Presents Anarchy!

BAMA: But now the Director’s flyin’ solo, Toddrick! And he’s facing a runnin’ buddy of TK’s… Mister Oz! And Oz is a monster in the ring when he’s in a good mood. I’d hate to face him when I’ve pissed him off! And the Director has PISSED OZZY OFF!

When they reach the end of the ramp, they set the chair down and X kneels down on all fours as the other three step aside. The Director stands, removing his cloak and handing it to one of the other masked men. He then steps onto X's back, using him as a human step stool to step foot onto the soundstage. Once in the ring, he spins with arms outstretched, taking in the boos of the crowd. He then moves to centerstage… behind a late night desk, like the master of ceremonies. He takes a seat upon the desk like it’s a throne… He enfolds his hands and awaits the start of the match.

STUDIO AUDIENCE: OOOOOOOOOH! AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

TODD: Clearly that charisma is emanating off the Director! The studio audience is both fascinating and mystified by him!

…

Oswald stands amidst an indie metal band, watching the soundstage, looking at the band. Soon a choir is heard as the band begins to play his theme song. He walks towards the lead guitarist, clapping him gently on the back so as to not mess up her playing. Oswald walks down through the studio audience, the bottom of his white cloak dragging along the ground.

TODD: Mister Oz… Still a member of The Corporation… still affiliated with Charlie Nickles! He and Thias Watts challenged Thunder Knuckles at Relentless with the belts on the line… But the Brotherhood of Bastards is thicker than any title belt… And the Director and XXXVI tossing TK off the roof of a Spirit Halloween?

BAMA: That’s gotta make the already quick-to-anger Oz absolutely STEAMIN’ mad!

TODD: Oz is one of the most violent competitors in the XWF! He’s brutalized many an opponent! But how will he fare against the mysterious Director?

Once at the side-stage, he punts the door to the stage open to show how strong and agile he was…

STUDIO AUDIENCE: *pops like it’s the fucking 90s and KRAMER JUST OPENED JERRY’S DOOR*

TODD: Wow! This crowd LOVES Mister Oz!

BAMA: Everyone does, Todd! If they don’t, he beats them up!

Oz de-cloaks himself, placing the cloak on the guest chair before stretching out his arms in a lower case t and roaring out to the crowd before going and sitting on top of his cloak...

TODD: Now this is a very unusual match environment, Bama! A Director’s Cut!

BAMA: You ain’ kiddin’, Toddrick! It’s all about camera angles! Playing to the crowd… AND THE COPIOUS BARBED WIRE ALL OVER THE STAGE!

The bell rings!

THE DIRECTOR ©
- vs -
MR. OZ

THE DIRECTOR'S CUT:

The match takes place on a soundstage, in front of a live studio audience! AND BARBED-WIRE IS EVERYWHERE!

HIGHLIGHT REEL

The moment the bell rings, Oz immediately charges at The Director perched on the soundstage, throwing a shoulder tackle toward the late night desk!

TODD: Oz might be ready for his close-up! Or just ready to get up close and personal with The Director!

The Director slips backwards, as Oz barrels through the desk!

…But as it breaks apart, it’s revealed that it’s FULL of barbed-wire!

TODD: Oh my! A miscalculation by Oz here! Apparently the desk the Director chose to stand on was a trap of sorts! Did the Director know that?

BAMA: I’d assume the Director knows EVERYTHING, Toddrick!

TODD: The Director has been absolutely torturing Oz with the barbed wire on this sound stage!

BAMA: Soundstage?!? The Director’s kept Oz stuck in that desk fulla barbed wire!

Indeed, the Director pummels Oz with forearm smashes… And a BIG headbutt to Oz’s skull…

So hard, The Director staggers backwards, even though his face is shrouded in a mask…

BAMA: Man, Oz’s so hard-headed, I think the Director took more from that headbutt than Oz did! And his face is covered!

Oz, in a burst of strength, RIPS his arms upwards, out of the barbed wire trap, and forces his legs out!

The Director’s eyes widen through his mask… Oz charges!

…But in a flash, the Director rips open a hatch on the stage, and drops through the floor!

TODD: What on Earth!

BAMA: Secret compartments, Toddy baby! The Director knows all and sees all!

Oz dives for the compartment just as The Director closes the latch behind him!

Oz furiously smashes his fists down on the sealed trapdoor!

”WHERE ARE YOU, COWARD?!?”

Suddenly, all the televisions on the soundstage turn on… and The Director’s face is on all of them…

Oz spins around furiously…

BAMA: I’ve got a feeeeelin’... somebody’s watching Ozzzzzzzzz!

TODD: Mister Oz has been tearing apart the soundstage looking for the Director!

BAMA: And he’s run into his fair share of barbed wire in the various bits of rigged equipment!

Oz punches a television with the Director’s face on it…

But inside the screen… Barbed wire rolls out the broken screen, snaring around Oz’s fist!

Oz howls in fury and pain, peeling his fist out of the TV!

”SHOW YOURSELF! FACE ME!”

Suddenly behind Oz, a stage panel opens… revealing four doors, each with the Director’s face on them!

TODD: This is turning into some sort of twisted game show!

BAMA: Mister Oz, come on doooooown!

…Oz squints furiously at the four doors…

He takes a step toward the first one…

A spotlight flashes on the first door…

And a stop sign pops up in front of Oz!

As doors #3 and #4 open…

Revealing cardboard cutouts of donkeys! Covered in barbed wire!

BAMA: Two doors just opened! What the Hell’s going on here, Toddy?!?

TODD: The Director just revealed two doors that were trapped before Oz opened the first door! Is he giving Oz a sporting chance to change his pick from the first door?

BAMA: That or he’s just calling Oz a jackass!

Oz snorts furiously as the spotlight alternates between the first and second door!

BAMA: I’m not following this horseshit… er, maybe donkey shit? AT ALL!

TODD: It’s actually the Monty Hall problem, Bama! See, before the other two doors were revealed, each door had a 25% chance of being the door with the Director behind it! Meaning the other door, the one Oz didn’t select, had a 25% chance of being the correct door, and all other doors had a 75% chance of having the Director behind them! Now that the Director has revealed two of the doors Oz didn’t select as traps, that means the last door now has a 75% chance of being the door with the Director behind it! Oz should switch to the second door!

BAMA: I didn’t understand a word of that and also I hate you.

Oz snorts, stomping his foot like a raging bull…

AND CHARGING AT THE WHOLE WALL OF DOORS!

BAMA: I think Oz has found a solution to your problem that didn’t involve any NERD thinkin’! BUST ALL THE DOORS AT ONCE!

Oz delivers a double dropkick to both doors!

He careens through the doors!

…

And the wall between them gives out!

THE WHOLE SPACE BEHIND THE WALL IS COVERED IN BARBED WIRE!

TODD: Ooooooh, tough luck for Oz! Turns out the Director wasn’t behind *any* of those doors! That never happened on Monty Hall!

TODD: Oz is bleeding more and more from all this exposure to barbed wire… And he still hasn’t forced the Director out of his hiding spot!

BAMA: At this point, the Director’s gonna put a kick me sign on Oz’s back and somehow get him to kick his own ass!

…Oz looks around furious… Before grabbing a television with the Director’s face on it…

AND TEARING IT OUT OF THE WALL!

…Behind the wall! Watching the soundstage on a series of monitors…

It’s the Director! Pulling levers and switches!

TODD: Oh my God! Oz found him! Oz found the Director!

The Director turns around… shaking his head… waving his arms!

Oz sprints forward before the Director can even defend himself… Scooping him behind the back in a waistlock!

GERMAN SUPLEX!

Oz hucks the Director all the way out of his observation room across the soundstage…

AND INTO HIS OWN BARBED WIRE DESK!

TODD: Turnabout is fairplay! The Director has been tossed into the barbed wire…

Oz… bleeding all over, exhaustedly stumbles back onto the stage… Eager to inflict more pain…

He approaches the barbed wire…

And sees the man he threw…

With the Director’s mask dangling on the edge of the desk!

TODD: Gasp! He’s unmasked! Are we about to learn the Director’s true identity!?!

BAMA: I bet it’s JOE BIDEN!

Oz creeps forward and a camera surges behind him to capture the moment…

…It’s…

IT’S!

…

It’s one of the Director’s followers! In a Triangle Mask!

TODD: It’s another trick! That wasn’t the Director! It was one of his follower’s acting as a body double!

Oz squints down perplexed… As a shadow creeps up behind him…

FINAL CUT! (Spirit Gun)!

Oz’s eyes widen in shock as he’s struck from behind with a running clothesline! Getting propelled forward…

INTO THE BARBED WIRE!

Todd: Oh no… The Director reveals his Final Cut!
Bama: And now Oz is getting cut UP!

Oz thrashes, tangled deeper and deeper in the wire, bleeding and exhausted, the barbed wire holding him against the soundstage... The Director calmly steps onto Oz’s prone body…

The official drops to count!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

Winner: The Director

The Director, calmly and casually, uses Oz as a stepping stone to exit the stage, leaving Oz incapacitated and the crowd in awe.

TODD: I… I can’t believe it. The Director just used Oz as a bridge to get out! What a masterclass in mind games!

BAMA: That’s showbiz, baby! Cut! Print! That’s a wrap on Mister Oz!

The cameras catch the Director disappearing through a side doo, remaining as mysterious in his exit as he was in his entrance. Oz remains trapped in barbed wire, breathing heavily, bloodied, and humiliated. The crowd is absolutely in awe, screaming and cheering as the soundstage lies in ruins.

TODD: Folks… the Director has revealed the smallest portion of his grand design… And it is horrifyingly violent, but masterfully crafted! What a dominant showing tonight!

BAMA: He’s playing chess while the rest of the roster is banging rocks together! If this is the sort of competition we can expect from the Director, the rest of Anarchy might be in trouble!

"In the Face of Evil" by Magic Sword reverberates over the PA. Row after row, aisle to aisle, fans rise from their seats throughout the arena and cheer, knowing one of their workhorses is about to appear!

As the second, third, and fourth chords of the theme reverberate, three spotlights shine down, one over another: A green circle, a gold triangle over it, and a crimson line intersecting the other two. On the Tron, his monikers cycle through one after another:

TACTILIZING ONE

GAME CHANGER

LIMIT BREAKER

From there, the beat triggers the house lights to illuminate the figure of Larry Tact standing on stage. He's looking down as he hones in for the battle ahead.

After a few seconds, Tact whips his head up and trudges to one side of the stage, firing up the fans by pointing towards different sections. He goes to the other side of the stage and beats his chest with a hand before opening his arms to the reaction of the crowd. "THIS IS YOUR SPOTLIGHT!" Larry bellows as the audience hoots and hollers back. He returns to center stage and points to either side of the crowd. The lights cut out except for green, gold, and crimson spotlights highlighting the audience in attendance. Larry makes his way down to the ring, pounding fists with some fans at ringside before hanging onto the middle rope and pulling himself up onto the apron.

Facing the stands, he opens his arms up and puffs his chest out to receive the feverish energy of his supporters. Wiping his boots on the apron, Tact proceeds into the ring. He climbs a turnbuckle and again holds his arms out. “BEST GAME WINS!!!” he exclaims to another pop before descending and making his final preparations for the match.

BAMA: Welcome back folks as we roll right on into another high octane contest!

TODD: That’s right, Bama. This is an interesting one featuring the captain of one War Games team versus the team member of a rival team. Whoever comes out on top of this one is going to have some serious momentum going into War Games.

LARRY TACT
- vs -
BETSY GRANGER

FALLS COUNT ANYWHERE!

Both competitors approach the center of the ring as the bell rings. Larry wastes no time locking up with Betsy, drawing her into a knee strike to the abdomen, followed by an attempt at a gut wrench suplex. But Betsy uses the momentum to her advantage, twisting in mid air to land behind Tact and counter with a deep arm drag, followed by a running dropkick as Tact tries to rise.

TODD: Pretty evenly matches so far but that can change in an instant!

Tact gets up and Betsy irish whips him into the ropes and nails him with a rolling koppu kick on the rebound! But Tact gets up quickly and goes for another lock up on Betsy, using his superior power to knee her again, hit a standing switch, and deliver a suplex! Tact then parlays that into a swinging neckbreaker followed by a pin!

1….

2…..BETSY KICKS OUT!

BAMA: Betsy showing that grit that’s made her a superstar in so many promotions!

Tact stays on the attack, hefting Betsy onto his shoulder for a running power slam, but she slips out the back and pushes Larry into the corner turnbuckle. He bounces back into Betsy’s radius where she reaches up for a cobra clutch looking to hit the DOWN YOU GO! But Larry counters with a few strikes before turning towards her and dropping her with a short arm clothesline. Tact then picks Betsy up and irish whips her into the ropes this time, catching her on the return with a big time spinebuster! He covers again!

1….

2……

3…NO! Another kickout from Granger!

BAMA: Tact asserting himself with two covers to Betsy’s none. It seems like Tact’s power game is really serving him well, Todd.

TODD: Yeah, Betsy needs to avoid these power moves from Larry if she wants to have a chance in this contest.

Larry brings Betsy to her feet, but she surprised him with a desperation chop followed by a sit out jawbreaker that stuns the bigger competitor. When Larry sits up Betsy then hits a running dropkick to his head, followed by her measuring him and hitting another driveby dropkick to his head. Betsy then hits the mat and locks in a sleep hold with a body scissors on Tact!

TODD: Betsy trying to slow things down, which could be a good call.

Tact grimaces and tries to drag himself towards the ropes, but the body scissors is making it hard. The ref asks checks on Tact who is fighting the sleeper with everything he’s got! Finally, with a burst of energy he grabs hold of Betsy’s arm and is able to power out! Both competitors get to their feet and Betsy hits a spinning roundhouse to Tact’s abdomen as he advances on her. She then hits a stunning pele kick that drops Tact. She covers!

1….

2…..NO! Tact powers out!

Tact pushes Betsy off of him and she gets vertical, dropping a knee on his head as he tries to get up. Betsy then backs off, measuring Tact and hitting him with another rolling koppu kick that sends him into the corner. Betsy builds up a head of steam and runs at him for a splash, but Tact catches her in mid air, powers her to center ring with THE HUMBLING (uranage suplex). Tact covers again!

1….

2……

3….NO! Betsy rolls the shoulder up!

BAMA: No quit in Betsy here, she knows she’s gotta show out for her team!

Larry doesn’t pause for a second, lifting Betsy up onto his shoulders for a TACTILIZER! But Betsy slips out behind him, dragging him down with a surprise reverse neckbreaker. Betsy stomps Tact after that, and then locks his feet up indian deathlock style to apply her Tuez les étoiles! But Tact is able to power out, disentangling his legs! Both competitors stand up and Betsy goes to hit a flying forearm, but Tact counters with a lariat that knocks Betsy to the mat. He then picks her up for the TACTILIZER again, but he really lays into the tourture rack, bending Betsy in half before going to hit the the powerbomb, but Betsy is able to escape again, though she grimaces in pain when she hits the mat and rolls away from Tact.

BAMA: Ooof, that torture rack looks like it did a number on Betsy.

TODD: Yeah, she definitely looks to be in some pain here.

When Larry turns around Betsy nails him with a dropkick to the chest, followed by another when he gets up, and then another! But with each one Betsy’s momentum gets slower as she starts to succumb to the pain. Eventually she resorts to just putting some space between her and Tact, but that only lasts so long as Tact advances on her. Larry nails Betsy with an overhand punch, followed by another, before grappling her back to center ring and dropping her with a gut wrench powerbomb! Betsy cries out in pain!

TODD: Not looking good for Granger here!

Tact, sensing blood in the water, picks Betsy up again and brings her high with a powerbomb, only to release it into a backstabber! The STAR POWER! Tact covers again!

1…..

2…..

3!!!

Winner - Larry Tact

BAMA: Oh hooo man! Poor Betsy, those repeated blows to the back just not doing her any favors at all!

TODD: Indeed! Betsy fought hard but tonight Larry Tact brought his power game in full force and it netted him a very timely win against a War Games captain!

BAMA: A big time feather in his team’s cap, no doubt!

Cut to an actual working garage, the smell of oil and gasoline thick in the air. The cameras weave between car lifts, oil drums, and the occasional confused mechanic still working on a carburetor. There’s a ring bell hanging off a tool chest…

TODD: Folks, ‘Big’ Dick Lichter has organized a wild show, full of zany stipulations, but this one might just take the cake! A full-on AUTO SHOP BRAWL between Scoops McGee and Clutch Cassidy!

BAMA: It’s gonna get absolutely nuts here at the Talleres Gama auto-shop in Madrid, Toddrick! Or as the spanish say, ‘loco!’

VROOM! VROOM! VROOM!

The power of the engine is heard as the riffs of Steppenwolf's "Born to be Wild" tear through the speakers.

The growl of a classic muscle car grows louder before it explodes into the garage! A number of spanish mechanics back away! The tires squeal as it barrels into one of the garage lans! The crowd erupts, stomping, screaming, waving their arms in the air like they just don't care. The car screeches to a halt, then does a burnout in place, causing smoke to billow up from the tires while doing considerable damage to the surface below.

TODD: There she is! Clutch Cassidy! Definitely one of the most charismatic new additions to Thursday Night Anarchy! She’s been absolutely explosive since debuting at Relentless!

BAMA: She been running up the charts like her career’s running on a damn Ferrari engine, Toddrick! She won the Relentless Night One Battle Royal in DOMINANT fashion! And she scored a major win at Spirit Halloween over Larry Tact and Mister Oz!

TODD: Despite a minor mis-step against Kristoffer Arroyo and Summer Page with her partner, XXXVI, Clutch Cassidy has impressed just about every showing she’s had on Anarchy! But this is the most unique challenge of her career! The neophyte, still very new to wrestling, is about to take on a man with four decades of experience in the ring!

BAMA: But this match, ain’t in a ring, Toddy baby! How much experience does Scoops have in auto shops, huh? ADVANTAGE CLUTCH!

The car shuts off. The door swings open. Out steps Clutch Cassidy, leather jacket, jean shorts, sexy as fuck, mirrored sunshades, and white halter top. She grins and makes her way around the garage, giving the mechanics there instructions on how to handle her car and what sounds she’s hearing… Before stopping at a child in the garage and sliding her sunshades on their eyes, then, in unison with them, yells "VROOM VROOM!"

Cassidy climbs into the starting position, throws her arms wide, then lets the fans join in with her as she does revving gestures with her arms, everyone yelling "VROOM VROOM!" with her.

…

The show is quickly interrupted by the sound of a distant synthesizer, followed up by horses neighing and galloping through the dirt. It fades out, leading into the riff of a guitar strumming a fiery tune. There's an inherent electricity building within the air of the auto shop, culminating as the drums kick in. As they do, the steadfast figure of Scoops McGee emerges through the auto shop’s front door, a look of no nonsense etched onto his face as he takes a long look at the crowd and the garage where he’ll be wrestling.

TODD: And there he is! The living legend himself! Scoops McGee!

BAMA: He’s fought across all seven continents… Including a very strange tour through Antarctica in the late 70s! But has he ever fought in an auto shop before, Todd!

TODD: I wouldn’t be surprised if he had, Bama! But more importantly, Scoops has been wrestling in hardcore matches, death matches… Since he was in his late teens! If anyone knows how to turn a space into a weapon, turn the objects around him into offense? It’s Scoops McGee!

BAMA: I hear you, Toddrick, but Clutch knows autoshops like the back of her hand! Scoops is in her backyard! Clutch ain’t gonna need to improvise nothin’, I guarantee she already knows eight different ways to break Scoops’ face using a carburetor and a gear shift!

Scoops nods, steadily walking to the ring and absentmindedly high-fiving any fans stretching out their hands who happen to be in his path in the auto shop waiting room. He makes his way through the door into the garage…. He saunters about halfway across the garage, 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 across from Clutch.

Scoops paces in front of his opponent and doing some small stretches to keep himself warmed up before the match begins.

TODD: Remember folks, this is an Auto Shop Brawl!

BAMA: How the hell would our audience know what that means, Toddy?

TODD: It means, no disqualifications! And the only way to win is by KOing your opponent!

BAMA: No pinfalls! No tap-outs! No technical decisions! You want this dub? KNOCK YOUR OPPONENT UNCONSCIOUS!

SCOOPS MCGEE
- vs -
CLUTCH CASSIDY

AUTO SHOP BRAWL! KO YOUR OPPONENT TO WIN!

HIGHLIGHT REEL

The moment the bell rings, Clutch slides her boots to snag a rolling mechanic’s creeper!

TODD: Wow! We’re one second in and Clutch is already using the environment to her advantage!

BAMA: Miss Cassidy’s only got one speed and it’s GO!

Clutch roars across the floor on the creeper, launching herself feet-first into Scoops’ knees! Sliding dropkick!

McGee topples onto his knees!

BAMA: Wise move by Cassidy, targeting the old man’s knees! If she really wants to lock up the wind, she might also hit his lumbago or his sciatica!

McGee rolls to the side, raising his guard in a defensive stance…

But Clutch has already zoomed over to the wall, snagging a wrench and clangs it against the lift’s steel column—like a starter pistol!

TODD: Odd choice! Clutch had McGee right where she wanted him and decided to run to the wall to grab a wrench!

Scoops sees an opening, with his opponent’s back to him, and charges at her!

But Cassidy takes the wrench…

And twists the car lift lever!

Scoops looks up!

AN OLD CHEVY MALIBU drops from the ceiling and is hurdling towards his skull!

TODD: Oh my God!

BAMA: Brilliant move by Clutch! If that car hits Scoops, he’s knocked out for sure!

…

NO! Scoops somehow dives out of the way!

CLANG! The vehicle collides with the concrete floor, its suspension devastated!

TODD: Thus far, it’s been the Clutch Cassidy show in the auto-shop!

BAMA: I don’t know if she used to work at this particular mechanic, but she seems to know exactly where everything is that can put a HURTIN’ on ol’ Scoops!

Scoops collapses backwards against the wall of the garage, blood already trickling from a split eyebrow… Clutch leaps onto the hood of a Honda, backflipping off looking for an Asai Moonsault!

…BUT Scoops catches her in midair with a…

CATTLE PROD!

TODD: Ouch! That infamous left forearm of Scoops!

Clutch catches it and collides violently against the concrete floor!

BAMA: And here we go! Scoops takes control!

Scoops refuses to let up from this opening… McGee hauls Clutch up off the floor…

PRAIRIE DOG!—the diving bulldog smashes her face-first into a workbench covered in tools. Cassidy collapses, but Scoops isn’t done. He yanks open a drawer and throws handfuls of lug nuts like gravel across the floor, smirking!

TODD: Oh my! I think Scoops is thinking those lug nuts are going to work like thumb tacks on a mat!

BAMA: Logical in theory! And I can’t WAIT to see it in practice!

Clutch slowly pulls herself up to her feet, gripping onto a portable air hose dangling from the ceiling to keep herself upright…

CLINCH! Scoops grabs Clutch by the throat, trying to set her up for the BIG SCOOP…

But Clutch squeezes the air hose’s trigger, and BLASTS Scoops in the face with compressed air! He stumbles back, clutching his eyes.

AND SUPERKICK FROM CLUTCH CASSIDY!

TODD: Clutch sequence from Clutch Cassidy! It could have been it right there if she didn’t find the right moves to escape!

Scoops and Clutch trade rights and lefts as mechanics walk around them, trying to work on cars!

TODD: Did the XWF even get permission to have a match in this garage?!?

Scoops lifts his hands for a double axe-handle strike…

But Clutch catches him with a kneeling gut punch!

Scoops doubles over, cradling his stomach…

Clutch runs up the hood of a coup…

NITRO KICK!

Scoops hits the hood of a sedan, denting it in… he rebounds off it stumbling forward!

But Cassidy shoves Scoops against the car, stepping to the side of it!

She revs her arms…

KICK!

KICK!

KICK!

TODD: She calls this BURNOUT! And the fans love it!

Indeed, as Clutch stomps Scoops’ chest over and over, the fans in the waiting room and watching outside the shop chant “VROOM! VROOM! VROOM!”

TODD: It looks like Clutch is nearing the Winner’s Circle! If Scoops can’t make a move now, this one might be over!

Clutch hovers behind Scoops, as the older competitor slowly rises off the floor of the garage… but Scoops has a hubcap in his hands!

Clutch spins Scoops around, looking for the Checkered Flag!

WHAM! Scoops catching Cassidy with a hubcap to the jaw!

BAMA: Never count out Scoops McGee!

Cassidy stumbles forward shocked… as Scoops catches her from behind!

ATOMIC DROP! Cassidy goes sprawling into the fender of a vehicle!

A mechanic walks by with a gas can… Scoops snatches it!

Cassidy shoves herself off the fender!

WHAM! Scoops catches her with a gascan to the skull!

TODD: What a sequence! Scoops is turning everything in this shop into a weapon!
BAMA: Scoops McGee is a hardcore legend, Toddy! I’d say he’s swung everything at an opponent but the kitchen sink… But there’s an eighteen minute compilation on the internet of Scoops hitting opponents with kitchen sinks!

TODD: Scoops has strung together a series of moves to take advantage… But can he find a window to finish off Clutch Cassidy?!?

Scoops boots Cassidy in the stomach! He’s calling for the BIG SCOOP!

…But while Cassidy’s facing the garage floor, she grabs a jack stand, and kicks it to slide near the hydraulic lift.

TODD: What the Hell is Clutch Cassidy thinking here?

Scoops sees Cassidy’s move and tries to power her into piledriver position…

But she crawls through his legs!

Scoops spins around…

Boot to the stomach!

SNAP DDT onto the floor!

TODD: What a move! But Scoops is still stirring! Cassidy’s got a find a way to knock him out!

Cassidy elevates the car she and Scoops are near with the hydraulic lift…

She sits on the hood as it rises… as Scoops slowly rises himself…

AND SHE LATCHES THE GUILLOTINE CHOKE ON HIM!

THE PIT STOP!

She sits on the hood of the slowly rising car, choke hold latched onto Scoops McGee, as his feet start to leave the ground!

TODD: Oh my God! Oh my GOD!

BAMA: Brilliant move by Clutch Cassidy! Scoops has stayed in this one by desperately turning everything he can reach for into a weapon… But there’s nothing up there for Scoops to grab!

Scoops thrashes like a fish trying to get out of the boat and back into the lake, but Clutch clutches the choke with all she’s got...

The old man’s face turns crimson…

Then blue…

…

HE PASSES OUT!

Winner: Clutch Cassidy

TODD: Holy HELL! What an absolute war we saw between Scoops McGee and Clutch Cassidy!

BAMA: Scoops pulled out all the stops! But ain’t nothin’ stoppin’ Clutch Cassidy once she gets her motor runnin’!

TODD: The biggest win of Clutch Cassidy’s very new career on Anarchy, but perhaps only the first step on her journey to the top of the Anarchy leaderboard!

Centurion walks onto the stage, greeted with a massive pop from the partygoing audience. Centurion flashes his signature smile to the camera as he walks down the stage, high fiving the occasional child as he calmly and cooly makes his way into the ring.

BAMA T: Bah, I hate this guy! He’s one of those old-timers that just won’t leave! And I can’t for the life of me figure out why this audience seems to be so in love with him?!

TODD: Are you joking, Bama? Centurion is one of Anarchy’s greatest legends of all time! Maybe he hasn’t been around in a while, but these fans haven’t forgotten all that he’s done in this ring! They remember, they remember well: and they want to make more memories by watching him in action here tonight!

HIGHLIGHT REEL

The bell rings, and the fans inside the nightclub are already on their feet. Centurion and Atara Raven circle one another, eyes locked, both perfectly aware that tonight’s X-Treme Rulez match could shorten their careers.

TODD: It’s Anarchy’s most legendary veteran versus the Anarchy Champion herself! You can feel the tension through the monitor, Bama! This rematch may not be for the title belt, but you can just feel the stakes in the ring tonight!

BAMA: You ain’t kidding! Centurion’s been waging wars in that ring ever since Atara was old enough to spell “wrestling,” but that lady from Olympus ain’t lookin’ to worship tonight: she’s lookin’ to wreck a legend and get her win back!

Atara moves first, lunging with a spinning back elbow that smashes across Centurion’s jaw! The veteran stumbles but plants his feet and slings a European uppercut that cracks her under the chin.

The crowd roars.

Atara whips around, nails a lightning-quick calf kick, and hits the ropes—springboard back elbow! Centurion ducks, rebounds, and flattens her with a shoulder block that echoes through the arena.

TODD: This one’s starting off like a street fight already!

BAMA: You ain’t gonna see any armdrags and headlocks here! This is ANARCHY!

Centurion wastes no time. He slides outside, rummages under the ring, and drags out a steel chair. Atara rolls to her stomach, sees him coming, and baseball slides straight into the chair! Centurion’s ribs take the hit and he doubles over.

Atara springs to her feet, snatches the chair, and wallops him across the back! Not once, but twice!

She raises the chair overhead for one more, but Centurion catches it mid-swing, yanks it free, and smashes it into her midsection. Atara folds, and Centurion plants her with a snap DDT onto the arena floor!

BAMA: Good Lord! DDT on concrete! We might be scrapin’ the Alpha Pussy off the floor with a spatula after that one!

Centurion rolls her in and follows. He goes for a quick cover!

1!

2!!

Atara kicks out!

TODD: That was close! Centurion tried to end it before it could even get ugly!

BAMA: That man was born ugly!

Centurion grabs the chair again, but Atara shin kicks him! Centurion drops the chair and hollers in pain as he clutches his lower leg. Atara doesn’t hesitate, she simply folds open the chair and wedges it into the corner turnbuckles while Centurion rubs his wounded shin.

When Centurion finally stands up right, she charges! But he sidesteps, causing Atara to crash face-first into the steel!

TODD: That might’ve shattered her nose!

BAMA: She might need some plastic surgery after that!

Centurion hauls her out of the corner and hits a belly-to-back suplex. He rolls to his knees, pointing upward toward the crowd who’s “OPA” chant has slowly shifted to a “CENT-U-RI-ON!” chant.

But Atara’s not down for long!

She grabs the top rope and springs up with a roundhouse kick to the temple! Centurion drops to a knee. She hits the ropes and connects with a running knee…..Judgement of Paris!

But Centurion barely moves in time, and her knee smacks the corner post instead!

Atara screams in pain, clutching her leg.

Centurion sees the opening. He slides outside again, this time dragging out a table. The fans lose their minds as he sets it up!

He props it up against the barricade. He pulls Atara out of the ring by the hair, dragging her to the apron. She swats at his arms, claws at his eyes, and kicks him in the gut.

Atara gets a grip, spins—snap suplex off the apron and through the table below!

TODD: THEY BROKE THE TABLE! THEY BROKE THE TABLE!

BAMA: Both of ‘em just got baptized in splinters!

They lay motionless in the debris for a long few seconds. The referee checks both, but neither gives up.

Atara stirs first. She drags herself up using the guardrail, blood dripping from a gash above her eyebrow. She lifts Centurion by the wrist and rolls him back into the ring.

Then, she makes the cover for a pin!

1!

2!!

3- No! Atara kicks out!

BAMA: Atara almost had him! She almost had him there!

TODD: But Centurion is adamant that he won’t lose to Atara Raven! He’s fighting like a man possessed in there!

Atara slaps the mat in frustration before lifting Centurion up by his collar and spinning him around for a jawbreaker!

Centurion staggers, but Atara catches him: with a northern lights suplex in the center of the ring!

She bridges and goes for the pin!

1!

2!!

3—NO! Centurion gets the shoulder up!

Atara slaps the mat, furious. She pulls herself to the top rope, wiping blood from her lip.

The crowd knows what’s coming.

She dives for a moonsault…..but Centurion rolls away! Atara crashes and burns!

TODD: Nobody home!

BAMA: And when nobody’s home, you don’t even get a refund on the flight! She’s going to be paying for that mistake, FULL COST!

Centurion drags himself up by the ropes, groaning. He spots a kendo stick lying near the apron and grabs it.

He raises it overhead and smacks Atara across the back!

Another strike! And another!

The welts are instant, red and raw.

Atara crawls toward the ropes, grimacing. Centurion drops the stick and pulls her upright by the hair. He hooks her arms again…..

1000 Mile Slam!

He falls forward for the cover!

1!

2!!

KICKOUT!!!!

The crowd explodes with chants of ‘OPA!’.

TODD: How in the world did she do that?!

BAMA: Divine intervention, Toddy! She’s a goddess in the flesh!

Centurion slaps the mat, exhausted. He looks out at the fans, eyes glazed with disbelief.

Atara, gasping for air, crawls toward the corner. She drags herself up, one rope at a time.

Centurion charges in, but she sidesteps, grabs the kendo stick, and CRACKS him in the side of the skull!

He wobbles.

She drops the stick and hooks him for a snap DDT!

Both lie still. The referee hesitates, then begins a ten count.

TODD: Both competitors are down now! They’ve both given it all they have, and now, their tanks are running on empty!

One…

Two…

Three…

Four…

Atara crawls toward him, draping an arm across his chest.

1!

2!!!

3-No! Centurion kicks out again!

TODD: How much more can they give?

BAMA: Whatever’s left, Todd. Whatever’s left.

They both drag themselves up by the ropes, eyes glassy, bodies trembling.

Atara swings wildly, but Centurion ducks. He then scoops her up in a fireman’s carry!

She elbows him once. Twice. She slides down his back—but he grabs her arm and locks in the Fall of Rome!

Atara screams, clawing at the mat. She refuses to tap, using her free leg to roll them over. She fights her way to the ropes—no breaks in X-Treme Rulez, but she uses them to pull herself up.

So Centurion releases the hold, spins, and hits a massive clothesline!

He collapses to a knee. Atara somehow pulls herself upright again.

BAMA: This is pure stubbornness now!

TODD: I don’t think either one knows how to stop!

They exchange punches in the center of the ring. Atara’s are coming in faster, but Centurion’s are coming in heavier.

Right from Atara. Left from Centurion.

Knee from Atara! Forearm from Centurion!

Atara hits the ropes for one last Judgement of Paris!

Centurion catches her out of the air—lifts—and drills her with Fabula Nova Crystallis onto a previously mangled steel chair!

He collapses from exhaustion, going limp right atop her.

1!

2!!!

3!!!

Winner: Centurion

The crowd erupts in a standing ovation as Centurion rolls off, both competitors barely conscious.

TODD: What a match! What a war!

BAMA: The man’s a relic, but he’s a relic forged outta steel! He survived the wrath of Anarchy’s Alpha Pussy tonight! He may have just earned himself a shot at ‘Big Blue’, Anarchy’s grand prize!

TODD: Atara Raven gave everything she had, but experience and grit won out in the end! Centurion has to be a frontrunner for the next #1 contender to her belt!

BAMA: Either way somebody better give ‘em both an ice bath and a halo, ‘cause they just went to hell and back!

Centurion leans against the ropes, bloodied and shaking, as the referee raises his arm. Atara sits up across the ring, sweat and hair clinging to her face. She nods once, eyes locked on the victor. But Centurion’s eyes are caught elsewhere…in fact, Centurion’s gaze hasn’t left the Anarchy Championship ever since his hand was raised!

TODD: The fans came for chaos, and they got the stuff of legend!

BAMA: That’s Anarchy, baby. That’s XWF wrestling!

S&M By Rhianna will play throughout the arena as the crowd cheers while Summer walks down the aisle. Summer gets to the ring side and walks up the ring stairs. Summer looks out at the crowd and raises her arms out to the crowd as the crowd cheers louder.

TODD: Here we go, Bama! Main Event time!

BAMA: That’s right Toddrick! We’re starting it off with the challenger, “Spoiled” Summer Page! The Revolution title is on the line in a pure rules match!

TODD: Yes, Summer chose the stipulation in her pre-match promo, where she spun a wheel of stipulations!

Summer turns her attention to inside the ring where she motions to the referee to open the bottom and middle ropes so they can enter. Summer walks over to the closest ring corner and climbs up to the middle turnbuckle.

Full black.

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, Revolution title around his waist and Anarchy tag team title buckled around his neck. He steps out onto the stage and takes in the mixed reaction from the crowd. He shakes out his head and shoulders and begins to walk down the ramp, hands still in prayer pose. Usually, his manager CIX appears, but she is nowhere to be found.

TODD: Looks like the champ is going it alone tonight! Our double champion XXXVI is here and he’s ready to defend his Revolution championship!

BAMA: Thirty-six Two-Belts is here! After an impressive win in the debut match for The Director, XXXVI won the Anarchy Tag Team championship from a solo Thunder Knuckles on the Halloween edition of our show.

TODD: Don’t let our Anarchy champion hear you say that, Bama.

BAMA: If Atara Raven wanted to call herself Atty Two-Belts, she should have beaten Centurion at Spooky Savage!

TODD: But “Psycho” Solomon stole the X-Treme title before the match even took place!

BAMA: It’s not stealing under 24/7 rules, Toddrick. Centurion should have been more careful. But now in War Games, she will have another chance to hold two belts. But back to the match at hand, Todd.

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. He 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. He awaits the match starting.

HIGHLIGHT REEL

The champion extends his hand for a handshake and Summer Page eyes him, unsure whether to trust the gesture. Eventually, she accepts and they shake hands, customary of the code of honor in pure rules matches.

TODD: Sportsmanship!

BAMA: Indeed, but now the real fight begins.

Summer takes control early with a series of strikes and submission attempts, which XXXVI manages to escape before she can fully lock them in. The champion catches her off guard with a spinning back fist, followed by a German suplex and a Boston Crab. He locks it in tight and she makes her way toward the ropes. She grabs it!

ROPE BREAK! Summer Page has two remaining!

Summer comes back with a vengeance. Snap suplex! Snap DDT! She goes for a pin.

1…

2…

TODD: No! He kicks out! I thought she had it there!

BAMA: That was a close call, Todd.

TODD: And now they are both up and trading blows!

Sling blade from XXXVI. He goes to the top rope and leaps with a frog splash!

But Summer got her knees up just in time! She rolls him up with a school boy.

1…2…

He gets a hand on the bottom rope!

ROPE BREAK! XXXVI has two remaining!

TODD: What a match we are witnessing here, Bama! On Monday we witnessed Anarchy’s own Reggie Estrada trick Tatiana Jolee into using a closed fist. I wonder if either competitor here will use their creativity in a similar way.

BAMA: Anything can happen here on the go-home show for War Games, Todd!

Back in the ring, the two competitors face off, circling each other in the center. XXVI charges and eats a “Total Knockout” superkick from Page. He stumbles. Superkick from XXXVI, he returns the favor. She stumbles. They stagger toward each other and stand forehead to forehead. Forearm strike from Summer. Another from XXXVI!

TODD: These two are so evenly matched!

BAMA: What a treat to watch!

Suplex from XXXVI, followed by an Asai moonsault. XXXVI goes for a pin. Kickout at 1!

Chick kick from Summer! MPME off the top rope! Summer pins. 1…

2…

XXXVI gets his foot on the rope.

ROPE BREAK! XXXVI has only one remaining!

TODD: I thought we had a new champ!

BAMA: He’s got to be careful. He only has one rope break left! We could very well have a new champ here tonight.

XXXVI gets behind and drops here with a reverse DDT. As she makes her way to her feet, he springboards off the top rope and hits her with a flying cutter. He grabs her by the legs and locks in Tiptoe Through the Tulips, his signature submission move.

TODD: He’s got that signature kneeling reverse sharpshooter locked in!

BAMA: I think it’s more of an inverted Scorpion Deathlock, but I digress. This could be bad for Summer Page!

The champ wrenches it in. No! She gets to the rope. The referee tells him to break the hold.

ROPE BREAK! Summer Page has only one remaining!

Summer knocks the champion down. She locks him in a figure four leglock. He tries to move toward the ropes, but she bridges into her own version of a figure 8. XXXVI cries out in pain with the added pressure from the leverage.

TODD: She calls that move the Perfect 10!

BAMA: Fitting, Todd! He may be able to reach the ropes, but then he’ll have no rope breaks left!

TODD: Or, he could just tap out and we’ll have a new champion before he can even make one defense!

BAMA: She has already pinned him twice. Once in a triple threat match and again in a tag team match.

XXVI reaches the ropes, but he isn’t trying to grab them. He screams and with one big push, he slides under the bottom rope, taking Summer with him! She loosens the hold by nature of his body falling to the outside of the ring! Summer gets up and she’s frustrated. Technically he didn’t use a rope break!

XXXVI, clearly in pain from the Perfect 10, fights back. Irish whip. Hurricanrana! XXXVI with a standing shooting star press and hooks the leg for a pin. 1…

2…

She gets a foot on the bottom rope just barely!

ROPE BREAK! Summer Page has no more remaining!

She hits him with a tilt-a-whirl into a Russian leg sweep! Another figure four. No, XXXVI gets his hand on the rope!

ROPE BREAK! XXXVI has no more remaining!

XXXVI is up. Summer is also up. She goes for a kick. He catches it! Dragon screw. Elbow drop from XXXVI. He climbs the top rope, steadies himself and leaps, a shooting star into a leg drop and he connects!

TODD: Doo doo doo doo! Doo doo doo doo doo!

BAMA: It’s the Final Countdown!

TODD: She has no rope breaks left!

BAMA: But neither does he!
XXXVI doesn’t go for the pin. He locks her legs with his own and pulls her neck up from behind. Romero special! He stretches her, bends her neck back further and locks in a dragon sleeper while still in the Romero special position! It’s the Third Eye Bind! She reaches for the ropes, but it’s too far away. She grabs the referee’s shirt as XXXVI tightens his grip. The referee pushes her hand off and warns her. The push is enough to get her closer to the ropes. She grabs onto the middle rope! But no, she has no rope breaks remaining. It doesn’t matter. The blood rushes to her head. Her body goes limp. The referee checks in on her and lifts her arm once, twice and three times! He calls for the bell.

WINNER AND STILL REVOLUTION CHAMPION: XXXVI

XXXVI loosens the hold and stands as the referee raises his hand in victory and “Gods” by Sleep Token blares throughout the Fabrik Madrid. On the stage, The Director appears. He begins to applaud as the crowd boos. He makes his way to the ring and motions for a microphone.

The Director: Congratulations, my weapon. I knew you could do it. Now, as we head into War Games, I notice something is missing from the card.

He adjusts the Anarchy tag team championship on his shoulder, looks at it and then over at the other title on his partner’s shoulder.

The Director: Here’s my pitch. The Director and XXXVI present: The Anarchy Tag Team championship open challenge at War Games! We will be there and we challenge any two competitors in the back brave enough to step up to face us with the Anarchy tag team titles on the line! So, Lichter, Trillionaires? Ball is in your court. You do like ratings and money, right? We won our individual battles tonight, but now we’re ready for War!

HUGE THANKS TO ALL OF OUR MATCHWRITERS

PETER PRINCIPLE
SOLOMON KLINE
CHARLIE NICKLES
“VAMP” ARROYO

& Thanks to everyone who RPed!

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XWF Anarchy
[Image: vuE1ZV0.png]

11 - 06 - 2025

LIVE FROM THE FABRIK MADRID!

MADRID, SPAIN

LATOYA HIXX
- vs -
SIR LIONEL PENNYFARTHING
- vs -
LEVI CARWIN

TRIPLE THREAT!

JOHN BLACK
- vs -
MARISOL VILARO
- vs -
EL LANDERSON
- vs -
YA'LL KNOW WHO

FATAL FOURWAY!

CELESTINE GALE
- vs -
SCHISM

TABLE'S MATCH!

THE DIRECTOR
- vs -
MR. OZ

THE DIRECTOR'S CUT:

The match takes place on a soundstage, in front of a live studio audience! AND BARBED-WIRE IS EVERYWHERE!

LARRY TACT
- vs -
BETSY GRANGER

FALLS COUNT ANYWHERE!

SCOOPS MCGEE
- vs -
CLUTCH CASSIDY

AUTO SHOP BRAWL! KO YOUR OPPONENT TO WIN!

XXXVI ©
- vs -
'SPOILED' SUMMER PAGE

REVOLUTION CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH!

SUMMER PAGE GETS TO PICK THE STIPULATION IN HER ROLEPLAY!

LATOYA HIXX
- vs -
SIR LIONEL PENNYFARTHING
- vs -
LEVI CARWIN

TRIPLE THREAT!

Winner: Levi Carwin

When Booyka 619 hit's he walks out on stage and kneels down on one knee and prays. He gets up and points to the Fans in Pyro fireworks burst open and switch to the other side of the stage in does the same thing in

TODD: El Landerson! The Bit Luchador! He’s faced some of the best talents the XWF has to offer, including Ace Sky, Razor Blade, and Jennie Nickles!

BAMA: Landerson’s been fiery and entertaining! But don’t forget, he’s made enemies too! One of the competitors in this match apparently has a score to settle with Landerson! And he’s not waiting until WarGames to settle that score!

after he was done he slowly walks down the ramp in slaps some little kids high fives and he stops and stares at the kid in hands him his Luchdor Mask to him and heads straight towards the ring and hops on the turnbuckle and pose both fingers in mid air and walks to the other side turnbuckle in does the same thing mid finger in the air in he gets down and wait for his Opponent arrive.

…

JOHN BLACK
- vs -
MARISOL VILARO
- vs -
EL LANDERSON
- vs -
YA'LL KNOW WHO

FATAL FOURWAY!

HIGHLIGHT REEL

Winner: Marisol Vilaró

CELESTINE GALE
- vs -
SCHISM

TABLE'S MATCH!

HIGHLIGHT REEL

Winner: Celestine Gale

THE DIRECTOR ©
- vs -
MR. OZ

THE DIRECTOR'S CUT:

The match takes place on a soundstage, in front of a live studio audience! AND BARBED-WIRE IS EVERYWHERE!

HIGHLIGHT REEL

Winner: The Director

TACTILIZING ONE

GAME CHANGER

LIMIT BREAKER

LARRY TACT
- vs -
BETSY GRANGER

FALLS COUNT ANYWHERE!

Winner - Larry Tact

SCOOPS MCGEE
- vs -
CLUTCH CASSIDY

AUTO SHOP BRAWL! KO YOUR OPPONENT TO WIN!

HIGHLIGHT REEL

Winner: Clutch Cassidy

HIGHLIGHT REEL

Winner: Centurion

S&M By Rhianna will play throughout the arena as the crowd cheers while Summer walks down the aisle. Summer gets to the ring side and walks up the ring stairs. Summer looks out at the crowd and raises her arms out to the crowd as the crowd cheers louder.

TODD: Here we go, Bama! Main Event time!

BAMA: That’s right Toddrick! We’re starting it off with the challenger, “Spoiled” Summer Page! The Revolution title is on the line in a pure rules match!

TODD: Yes, Summer chose the stipulation in her pre-match promo, where she spun a wheel of stipulations!

Summer turns her attention to inside the ring where she motions to the referee to open the bottom and middle ropes so they can enter. Summer walks over to the closest ring corner and climbs up to the middle turnbuckle.

Full black.

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, Revolution title around his waist and Anarchy tag team title buckled around his neck. He steps out onto the stage and takes in the mixed reaction from the crowd. He shakes out his head and shoulders and begins to walk down the ramp, hands still in prayer pose. Usually, his manager CIX appears, but she is nowhere to be found.

TODD: Looks like the champ is going it alone tonight! Our double champion XXXVI is here and he’s ready to defend his Revolution championship!

BAMA: Thirty-six Two-Belts is here! After an impressive win in the debut match for The Director, XXXVI won the Anarchy Tag Team championship from a solo Thunder Knuckles on the Halloween edition of our show.

TODD: Don’t let our Anarchy champion hear you say that, Bama.

BAMA: If Atara Raven wanted to call herself Atty Two-Belts, she should have beaten Centurion at Spooky Savage!

TODD: But “Psycho” Solomon stole the X-Treme title before the match even took place!

BAMA: It’s not stealing under 24/7 rules, Toddrick. Centurion should have been more careful. But now in War Games, she will have another chance to hold two belts. But back to the match at hand, Todd.

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. He 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. He awaits the match starting.

HIGHLIGHT REEL

ROPE BREAK! Summer Page has two remaining!

ROPE BREAK! XXXVI has two remaining!

Chick kick from Summer! MPME off the top rope! Summer pins. 1…

2…

XXXVI gets his foot on the rope.

ROPE BREAK! XXXVI has only one remaining!

TODD: I thought we had a new champ!

BAMA: He’s got to be careful. He only has one rope break left! We could very well have a new champ here tonight.

ROPE BREAK! Summer Page has only one remaining!

ROPE BREAK! Summer Page has no more remaining!

She hits him with a tilt-a-whirl into a Russian leg sweep! Another figure four. No, XXXVI gets his hand on the rope!

ROPE BREAK! XXXVI has no more remaining!

WINNER AND STILL REVOLUTION CHAMPION: XXXVI

HUGE THANKS TO ALL OF OUR MATCHWRITERS

PETER PRINCIPLE
SOLOMON KLINE
CHARLIE NICKLES
“VAMP” ARROYO

& Thanks to everyone who RPed!

]]> <![CDATA[Spirit Halloween Presents: XWF Anarchy]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=49424 Fri, 24 Oct 2025 20:46:18 -0700 'Big' Dick Lichter]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=49424

Spirit Halloween Presents: XWF Anarchy

[Image: 45NP2LJ.png]

10 - 23 - 2025

LIVE FROM THE SPIRIT HALLOWEEN FLAGSHIP STORE!

EGG HARBOR TOWNSHIP, NEW JERSEY

EL LANDERSON
- vs -
RAZOR BLADE

ANIMATRONIC MASSACRE MATCH:

The match will take place in the Animatronics section of the store! But beware, these Animatronic creatures seem to have a mind of their own! Win by pinfall or submission.

BARNEY GREEN
- vs -
SUMMER PAGE

TRICK or SPOIL:

The match takes place in the 'employees only' section of the store! Dozens of warehouse boxes will be set up all around the back of the store, some containing TRICKS that will hurt whoever opens them, and some containing SPOILS which will help! To win the match, you must open the 1 hidden box filled with candy!

LARRY TACT
- vs -
CLUTCH CASSIDY
- vs -
MR. OZ

MONSTER MASH MAYHEM:

Each wrestler will be accompanied to the store by 1 random Spirit Halloween employee, who will be dressed in a costume of their choosing. In order to win, you must ensure that your employee companion is not pinned or submitted by your opponents! If your employee companion is pinned or submitted by either of your opponents, you are eliminated from the match!

KRISTOFFER 'VAMP' ARROYO
- vs -
BETSY GRANGER

BELLA ON A POLE:

A Spirit Halloween employee will be dangling down from the ceiling, dressed in an officially licensed Bella Swan costume! Whoever climbs up the ladder and saves Bella will be declared the winner!

KIERAN KING ©
- vs -
SCOOPS MCGEE

O' CAPTAIN MY CAPTAIN:

Both wrestlers will be dressed up as PIRATES while they battle across the store in search of a pinfall or submission! That is all!

THUNDER KNUCKLES© & ???
- vs -
XXXVI © & THE DIRECTOR

GLASS CEILING TAG MATCH:

A wrestling ring will be set up on the roof of the store. Surrounding the ring, will be nothing but GLASS SHARDS- all across the roof! The only way to win is by pinning BOTH members of the other team inside the ring...or, you can simply YEET them off the roof to eliminate them!

The Anarchy Tag Team Championships will be on the line.

2 RPs per Team @ 1K each RP

The Anarchy theme hits and the scene opens up to overhead drone shot of the Spirit Halloween parking lot. It's packed full of day to day daily drivers and mostly minivans! Through the maze of cars is an enormously long line of desperate fans and Halloween shoppers trying to get inside the flagship show! There's no way the building can possibly say it's under the building capacity and a fire Marshall is sure to show up!

TODD: Welcome XWF Fans to another exciting and SPOOOOOOKY night of Thursday Night Anarchy! As you can see, we're at the flagship store of our partners, Spirit Halloween, who have are bringing you this show tonight' and it's standing room only!

BAMA: That's right Todd, it looks like Black Friday out there! The action might become more intense in the parking lot than in the ring!

The drone lowers as flys over a few angry heads and through the door.

Todd: These people have been waiting for hours to get in, and with superstars like ours, there's no question why!

BAMA: Um.. actually Todd. There is a question...take a look.

The drone sweeps through a tangled mess of people before settling on a cash register.

[/color]

"So then I'm like, 30 minutes! Malaka, shit in my face, what I'm I gonna do with thirty minutes! And then he's all like I don't care what you do, just make sure you clock out for it and don't be late getting back. And then I was like, Clock Out! What the hell I gotta clock out for your barely paying me now and you want me to clock out for a break your forcing me to take...that whole process is gonna eat three minutes off of it, then I gotta all the way to the back to the breakroom and all the way back out. That's like 8 minutes!

And he's like, it's the policy. I don't make them then ask me where my name tag is. Oh, that really set me off, like really. I'm Atara Raven! I don't need an effin name tag and he's all like...policy and I'm like....

TODD: OMG! It's the Anarchy Champion! It's Aphrodite Incarnate, Atara Raven herself and look at her go! A champ of the people! She's selling tickets and costumes!

BAMA T: She's holding up the damn production Todd! She's not even in the card tonight and after losing to Centurion why should she be!

TODD: Oh shut up Bama, clearly it's her first day, but more importantly the Champ is Here! Tonight is gonna be an exciting night!

TODD: Folks, we’re opening tonight with… one of the oddest stipulation matches we’ve had in XWF Halloween history… Strike that, one of the strangest stipulations in XWF History!

BAMA: Brought to you by Spirit Halloween!

TODD: Our two competitors will do battle inside a Spirit Halloween… Contained to the Animatronics Section! And they’ll do battle up and down the aisle, between animatronics all set to go off!

BAMA: Like a kind of robotic lumberjack match! I can’t wait, Toddrick! Stop flappin’ ya gums and let’s GET IT ON![/white]

When Booyka 619 hits, El Landerson walks through the automatic doors of the Spirit Halloween’s front door. He kneels down on one knee and prays. He gets up and points to the Fans as Pyro fireworks burst open and switch to the other side of the stage in does the same thing in after he was done he slowly walks into the store in slaps some little kids high fives!

[blue]TODD: El Landerson! The Bit Luchador! He fought an absolutely hellacious fight with Ace Sky at Spooky Savage at his debut and came inches away from victory, but was cast 40-feet downward into a void-like abyss!

BAMA: And he’s back competing three days later! There’s that Theo Pryce Lifetime Healthplan in action!

TODD: Regardless, his second match competing in the XWF is another halloween-themed stipulation! He and Razor Blade are old friends, longtime allies… that have never faced each other before!

BAMA: Never in the ring and never in the animatronic section of a Spirit Halloween! But history is made in Egg Harbor Township, New Jersey! Who will win?

Landerson stops and stares at a kid in the crowd and hands him his Luchdor Mask to him and heads straight towards the ring and makes it to one end of the animatronic aisle and poses both fingers in mid air.

…

The crowd are seen chatting amongst one another when the lights suddenly go out in the Spirit Halloween store, causing a little buzz from the crowd.

]

''Wrestling has more than one... royal family.''

As soon as those words are heard, the crowd inside the Target Center erupted as you heard the commentator's reaction as well.

[blue]TODD: What?!? No freaking way! Is he here? Is Razor Blade in the building?!?

BAMA: …Yeah, he is, Toddrick. He showed up for his scheduled match like he always does.

Smoke emanated from… outside the automatic doors of the Spirit Halloween, completely covering as you weren't able to see anything through it and before you knew it, Razor Blade is seen walking through the smoke, a big smile on his face as the crowd erupted even louder at the sight of the American Nightmare.

JC: Egg Harbor Township’s own! Razor Blade!

BG: …’Egg Harbor Township’s own’? Razor’s from Atlanta! Toddrick, if you don’t start making sense, I’m gonna start thinkin’ you were replaced with an elaborate animatronic!

''Adrenaline, in my soul

Every thought out of control

Do it all to get them off their feet''

Razor glanced out at the crowd, nodding his head pointing out towards them dressed to the nines in one of his many custom combat tights as he knelt down, tapping the Spirit Halloween floor with his fist, jumping up to his feet as he extended his arms out.

TODD: El Landerson and Razor Blade have been friends for YEARS! They’ve trained together, they’ve shouted each other out in promos… But finally, these two very different forces collide!

BAMA: Absolutely, Toddrick! These two men are going to war tonight! Fighting amongst animatronic machines that want to do them harm! This is gonna be like Terminator 2: Judgment Day… is T2 took place entirely inside one aisle of a Spirit Halloween.

''Crowd is here, about to blow
waitin' for me to start the show

out the curtain, lights go up I'm home

Whoooooooooooooa!''

A burst of pyro went off behind Razor (set off at the front of the Spirit Halloween parking lot) as he brought his arms in before pumping his fist as one final big burst of pyro went off behind him Razor glanced out at the crowd again, that smile remaining on his face as he walked deeper into the store, high fiving members of the crowd in the front row before going over and doing the same thing on the other side of the store. Razor walked past the front area of the store, stopping at the end of it as he looked around before walking towards the animatronic aisle. He glanced down at them, before tapping them with his hand as he raised his arms trying to pump up the crowd before walking into the aisle, looking around before extending his arms as even more pyro went off on the stage. Razor finally enters the aisle.

TODD: Bold choice to have… EXACTLY the same amount of pyro he does when he competes in an arena… shooting off just outside of the front door of the Spirit Halloween.

BAMA: Hey! Budget’s already allocated, Todd! You don’t use it? Next show, you might LOSE it!

TODD: Fair enough! Well, folks, get ready for something truly insane! Landerson! Blade! ANIMATRONIC MASSACRE MATCH!

HIGHLIGHT REEL

Our two competitors meet in the center of the aisle and immediately lock up for a little collar and elbow in the animatronic aisle!

TODD: And we’re off! Blade and Landerson jockeying for control!

BAMA: They’re moving! And a lot of those animatronics are motion-sensored! Get ready!

Blade quickly takes control, securing Landerson into a sideheadlock, twisting his feet to secure his base, preventing Landerson from using his agility to escape…

Unfortunately, when he shifts his feet, he activates…

[Image: r6sws8.gif]

KRAMPUS!

TODD: JESUS CHRIST! IT’S KRAMPUS!

BAMA: Calm down, Todd! It’s just an animatronic Krampus shaking an animatronic chi-....wait, I think the kid is real…

The animatronic Krampus snarls, its robotic snakelike tongue whipping about as… no, yeah, that’s just a screaming six-year-old boy…

Blade is startled, losing his grip on Landerson…

Landerson doesn’t waste a minute… AND DROPKICKS Razor into Krampus!

Razor collides face-first into the animatronic and hits the aisle floor! The animatronic topples over… the child hits the ground and runs for freedom!

TODD: …How did he even get up there?

BAMA: Every Krampus animatronic comes with a free child! Great for ambience on your front lawn decoration!

Landerson delivers boots and punches to the back of Razor’s skull…

Blade impatiently grasps his opponent and whips him…

[Image: 71I3ePi1FLL._AC_SL500_.jpg]

Toward an inflatable orange lawn decoration!

TODD: SPIRITS! SPIRITS AND THORNS, THAT SURELY ROOT INTO HELL ITSELF?!?

BAMA: Toddrick, it is made of rubber and helium, show some goddamned spine, boy!

Landerson is shoved toward the thorn… He’s got too much forward momentum to stop himself…

…

Instead, he WALL-RUNS up the thorn!

TODD: Oh my GOD! Landerson is lighter than air if he could pull that off!

…Blade sees Landerson countering and goes to charge after him, aiming to shoulder block him against the inflatable!

But Landerson goes up and over!

Lands on his feet!

And DROPKICKS Blade into the inflatable!

Blade is driven backward!

THE INFLATABLE POPS! And Blade gets blasted across the aisle, getting thrown into the metal stands across him!

TODD: Holy COW! Blade just got detonated on that one!

BAMA: I think Landerson got that one from a particularly good road runner cartoon! It felt like that whole sequence defied the laws of physics!

Blade lies in a crumpled heap as Landerson crawls across the aisle into a cover…

ONE!

TWO!

THR-Razor kicks out!

Landerson and Razor throw trade punches amidst a number of cackling skeletons, popping up over gravestones!

Razor gets kicked into a gravestone…

A skeleton pops up!

”BOO!”

Unfazed, Razor UPROOTS the skeleton off its little pop-up engine…

Landerson charges!

AND RAZOR WHACKS HIM OVER THE HEAD WITH IT!

TODD: Wow! Absolutely vicious attack by Razor there!

Landerson gets knocked flat onto his back as Blade breathes heavily, before slowly advancing past another gravestone…

[Image: matt-sydal-a.jpg]

”WE’RE CLEARED FOR TAKEOFF!”

Razor double takes at the appearance of ACE SKY!

…

…As an animatronic!

TODD: I’m being handed an index card… *ahem*… Open your Lawn’s Third Eye and get your officially licensed Ace Sky Halloween lawn decoration.

BAMA: Available exclusively at Spirit Halloween!

Ace’s grinning face is superimposed and airbrushed on a wooden plank…

Razor, realizing he just got startled by an Ace Sky product… Grits his teeth…

AND KICKS ITS HEAD OFF!

”R-R-Rock I-i-it and r-r-rockeeeeeeeee…”

TODD: Razor said what would happen if he saw Ace’s face pop up in this match!

BAMA: Razor, c’mon! You break it, you bought it!

Both men lie exhausted in the aisle, slowly rising to their feet…

Razor throws a chop!

Landerson throws a boot to the knee!

Razor throws a closed-fist punch!

Landerson fires back with a rib shot!

BAMA: This is a losing fight in the long-run for Landerson… He’s taking shots to the face, while Landerson can’t reach Razor’s chin!

Razor reels back a chop! And a sickening SMAAAAAAAAAACK echoes through the aren-… er, Spirit Halloween!

Landerson drops to one knee from the power of that chop!

TODD: Oh no! It looks like Razor has the upper hand!

Landerson crawls backwards toward a gravestone decoration, with an animatronic 12 foot old man raising his cane, repeatedly saying “GET OFF MY LAWN”!

TODD: Well, that one’s not scary…

BAMA: It’s not about *him*, Toddrick. It’s about what he represents. One day, you will be old and miserable. Then? You will die.

TODD:… Oh.

Blade measures Landerson against the gravestone!

He leaps, rebounding off the aisle!

DIAMOND BLADE! (Disaster Kick)

…

But Landerson ducks! And Blade ends up garroting his throat on the gravestone!

TODD: And just like that, the tables have turned! Now, Landerson has the upper hand! Can he put this one away?

Landerson turns around, seeing Blade’s throat laying against the gravestone… at the same height as a middle rope… And he sees the animatronic old man’s cane going up and down…

TODD: No way… there’s no way Landerson goes for this!

BAMA: He’s about to Toddrick!

Landerson gives himself the ol’ catholic ‘spectacles, testicles, wallet, watch’… And he sprints!

In mid air, he grabs the old man’s cane!

He spins through the air!

TODD: He’s doing it!

Landerson’s boots fly toward Razor’s skull!

…

But Razor catches his legs!

TODD: Countered!

Blade drags Landerson off the gravestone, guillotining him…

BLADE ROSE! ONTO THE TILE FLOOR!

BAMA: BALLGAME!

Landerson goes limp, his skull against the floor motionless, as Razor floats into hooking the leg!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

WINNER: RAZOR BLADE!

TODD: Phew! What a war! What a tooth-and-nail fight between these two old friends! Landerson used the environment to pull out every stop! But Razor Blade was just too much! And tonight the American Nightmare pulls off the victory!

Backstage…

King Kieran: Ugh… where is he?

The King of the Universe shoves open a door and groans again. A number of his security team do the same down the corridor.

A few screams follow, until finally…

“Hey what the fuck?!”

One of the goons waved the king over.

“He's over here!”

Quickly, Kieran barged past a few other men and barrelled into the doorway. The ‘Captain of the Kingsguard’ Tommy Gunn was not far away.

King Kieran: There you are!

Standing, alone, in the room across from the king, was lone XWF Anarchy Tag Team Champion, Thunder Knuckles. Both belts lay on a chair next to him. Kieran eyed them approvingly.

King Kieran: Double gold means double smarts right?

Thunder Knuckles: …Huh?

King Kieran: I said double the gold–you know what? Never mind. You ready for tonight, champ? Got a partner lined up? I can loan you Tommy? He's getting super good at stuff. Watch this…

Kieran picks up a nearby beer can and hands it to his right hand man.

Tommy takes aim towards a garbage bin across the room.

Both Kieran and TK watch on…

King Kieran: KOBE!

Tommy throws the can!

…And misses.

Thunder Knuckles: …I was still fucking drinking that.

King Kieran: That's okay! Tommy's even better at beer runs. Aren't you, ‘Captain'?

Without questioning, Tommy Gunn trots off to find some beer, leaving King Kieran alone with Thunder Knuckles. (And the scores of armed forces just outside the open door.)

King Kieran: So… War Games…

Thunder Knuckles: Yep…

King Kieran: Bit different this year.

Thunder Knuckles: Yep. Uni Title on the line.

Tommy Gunn really needs to hurry his ass back so this would feel even more like an opening to King of the Hill.

Alas, Kieran was about to break the vibe.

King Kieran: Yours too.

TK paused. His face began to screw itself up.

Thunder Knuckles: The fuck did you just say?

Kieran was confused.

King Kieran: Didn't you hear the order from the Trillionaire Trollops? ALL titles are on the line.

TK was still enraged.

Thunder Knuckles: This is some mother fuckin’, titty fuckin’, bullshit! Who do I have to talk to about this? Where's that little Big Dick guy?

Snatching his titles up, TK storms off just as Tommy Gunn arrives with a couple of beers. TK lifts them both straight from Tommy's hand on the way out.

Tommy Gunn: What happened?

King Kieran: The bastard didn't even KNOW that his titles were on the line too. Between this and Dickie, I'm not sure we're going to have much luck rallying these idiots to change things. Kline with the X-Treme Title is trying to strike out on his own, The Exiles barely even get off their asses to even team with each other except on Pay Per View, and XXXVI isn't even fucking IN War Games. Not sure how that one is going to work.

Tommy Gunn: There's Atara?

Kieran stroked his chin.

King Kieran: Hmm… Atty signed up for Dolly’s union, and then The Corporation held her back from helping out Blizzard against Solomon’s betrayal. Safe to say she's probably against Musk and his fellow hellspawn. But… she's probably not about to rush to my side to go against them either. She’s always had bigger aspirations than she's been able to achieve so far. This War Games title situation could be an interesting opportunity for her…

Tommy Gunn:...Maybe Dolly was right?

Immediately, Kieran looked disgusted.

But for a split second, it looked like he was genuinely considering the possibility.

He shook the thought off as quickly as it had arrived in his head.

King Kieran: I can survive this. I know my draft picks, and I know that they might throw people off. From there, all I've got to do is show up and be me. And then… find another way to fuck these Trillionaires over.

How hard could all that be?

The camera fades out on Tommy Gunn’s face, who doesn't look so sure.

As both Barney and Summer glare at each other from opposite ends of the cold, gray, dingy warehouse, the intercom chimed to life above them as a familiar noise filled the room.

DING! DING! DING!

TODD: Bit of an unorthodox way to start the match, but… we’re off!

BAMA: Summer looks like she’s locked in here as we start!

The two are quickly off to the races! Summer lunges in and nails Barney with a quick high knee! It catches Barney right on the chin as he’s forced to stagger back, quickly checking on himself, but Summer won’t give him a chance to breathe as she rises to nail a Hurricanrana!

Barney quickly recovers as Summer lunges towards him, but he quickly pushes Summer aside and nails her with a straight right that manages to create a bit of separation between him.

It’s here that he catches the eye of one of the many presents tonight in this match! Barney pulls the ribbon to the box, hoping for something nice…

TODD: Look at that, Bama! Barney just got a big sack of thumbtacks! You already know he’s gonna try to put those to good use!

BAMA: But it can sure come back to haunt him, too! Hm… could we call that one a trick, or a spoil to start this off?

Barney swings the sack of thumbtacks around like they’re nunchucks, using them to ward off Summer who’s wary of keeping her distance from Barney! She anxiously looks around-

BARNEY PELTS HER WITH THE SACK! SUMMER BACKS AWAY WHILE GOING TO ANOTHER PRESENT!

AND SHE PULLS OUT A BASEBALL BAT!

She twirls the baseball bat in her hand as she comes closer to Barney, who’s still swinging the sack!

TODD: This feels like a twisted game of pinata, Bama…

BAMA: And I don’t think either of these guys wanna find out what’ll happen if they lose, baby!

Lots of feints and swings ensue at each other! Summer and Barney can’t quite seem to get the upper hand on each other… until they swing at the same time!

AND THE BAG EXPLODES! THUMBTACKS GO FLYING EVERYWHERE ACROSS THE ENTIRE WAREHOUSE!

BOTH COMPETITORS’ EYES WIDEN IN SURPRISE! BEFORE SUMMER TAKES ADVANTAGE AND WHACKS BARNEY IN THE GUT WITH THE BAT!

TODD: Maybe you were right with thinking this was a trick after all, Bama! The stakes just ramped up substantially in this match!

BAMA: Gotta think about your well-being now more than ever when any time you fall could be driving you right into those damn spikes!

Another whack of the bat across Barney’s back has him arching back in pain as he staggers away, but Summer won’t let Barney go that easily as she sizes him up- SUPERKICK TO THE JAW!

TODD: A Total Knockout, right there!

BAMA: Barney look like he caught the worst end of that, and he just fell back into a ton of thumbtacks!

Summer sees her opportunity and starts to go on the hunt for more boxes! She rips open the first box she sees, only for a wretched odor to come to her as she outright gags!

She kicks the box off towards Barney, and… crickets come marching out?!

BAMA: This is sick stuff, Todd! Look at those crickets, they’re marching all over Barney now!

TODD: Yeah, but they’re waking him up!

Barney snaps back to attention as he gets up properly, swatting crickets off of him and plucking thumbtacks out as he glares at Summer!

Summer keeps her distance from Barney, but Barney closes the distance and launches several right hands! Punch! Punch! Punch! Punch!

Summer refuses to go down, but Barney responds by taking another present and BASHING Summer right over the head with it!

Summer stumbles over onto all fours, pricking herself on pins and crickets as sausages come raining down now!

BAMA: What the Hell are they even putting in these presents, Todd?

TODD: No idea, but they’re using everything they’ve got right now…

Barney takes one of the sausages and sets it on Summer’s back, before taking the bat from before and BASHING IT right onto Summer! The sausage turns into a smeared sheet of meat as Summer gets laid out!

Now it’s Barney’s turn to have the advantage! He takes a deep breath, looking through the employee’s area again. A good chunk of the presents have been opened, but there’s still some left…

Barney opens a nearby present, but an explosion knocks him back as soon as he opens it! Soot stains his face as he swats wildly in the air, but paper and confetti are flying in the air!

TODD: Look, Bama! That piece has writing on it!

BAMA: Barney can barely see it right about now!

Barney tries to clean his eyes, but the papers are flying about! Just as he clears his vision, he notices the piece with writing on it and goes to grab it!

But Summer is right there! She grabs the writing for herself as she shoots a death glare at Barney! She shoves a sausage right into his mouth before hitting him with a HUGE uppercut to force him to chew on it!

Barney has his mouth stuffed! Summer takes the opportunity with a boot to the gut… AND HOISTS HIM UP FOR THE PILEDRIVER?!

BARNEY’S WEIGHT IS TOO MUCH! SUMMER IS HAVING TO BACKPEDAL WHILE BALANCING BARNEY!

QUEEN’S GAMBIT PILEDRIVER ONTO ANOTHER PRESENT!

TODD: It’s Hot Girl Summer right about now, Bama!

BAMA: Barney just got laid out, baby! Look, somethin’s in that present!

Flashes of colors are apparent within the present! Summer opens it up, only to see a mountain of candy rain down for her! She laughs as she throws the candy up on high, drowning herself in it!

WINNER: SUMMER PAGE!

TODD: Fast and furious match there, Bama, but I’m sure Summer can’t complain about the end result! She took it to Barney and got out of there with a huge win!

BAMA: Don’t get too ahead of yourself yet, baby, ‘cause she’s comin’ to the camera right now!

Summer smugly grins to the lens, proudly holding up the piece of paper for the camera to read.

Whoever holds this piece of paper,
is awarded the right to select a match stipulation
for 1 (one) XWF Revolution Championship Match.

- Signed, Dick Lichter

TODD: Woah! Summer Page is not only going to challenge for the Revolution Championship, but she’s got the chance to pick the match stipulation?

BAMA: She’s gonna be riding high on that momentum, baby! That 36 guy better watch himself soon!

Summer strolls off, keeping the paper close to herself as Anarchy rolls on.

TODD: Before we go to our next match I'm being told we have an important announcement from the back from none other than legendary XWF interviewer Steve Sayors...

The Tron comes to life and shows the Spirit Halloween stock room and the crowd comes to life when that silvered haired Icon is shown on screen.

BAMA: Oh my God.....

TODD: Haha, It's Atty Sayors!

Atara: Hello XWF Universe, it's Steve Sayors here and I'm standing next to none other than The Canadian El Niño, Ayotal Hex with her thoughts on the quality of Spirit Halloween costumes! Ayotal, what do think?

Atty puts the mic up to the woman's lips and right before she speaks brings the mic back to her own.

Atara: Well there you go XWF Universe! For the duration of this show go to the Spirit Halloween website and use the #ICAMEFORATTYNOTKEIRAN and get 50% off your next purchase of $150 bucks or more! Back to you Todd!

Before the Tron shuts off we hear a very managerial voice about, "Atara! This is coming out of your thirty minutes!"

TODD: Folks, it looks like I’m getting word about some commotion happening outside of the store…?

BAMA: Man, is it Atty with the food stand again? I’m almost scared to find out what she’s up to this time, baby…

TODD: No, it’s something else entirely!

The camera comes to outside of the Spirit Halloween as two men stand proud, looking at the store and the rows of screaming fans from afar!

[b]“Argh…” Scoops McGee grunts, adjusting the eye patch on his pirate costume as he drinks in the atmosphere. “I’ve heard, boah… that there be treasure in that there store.”

Joseph Taylor looked like he wanted to be anywhere else right now. He pulled on his own cotton shirt tightly, trying to create some breathing room for himself before a cold gust of wind breezed by. He looked at Scoops, grimacing. “Terry, why is it that I’m here with your cameraman tonight…?”

“‘Cause you volunteered out of the kindness of yer’ heart?”

“...”

“God’s sake, Johnny, it won’t kill ya to lighten up a bit. It’ll be like the old days. In fact, it’ll be even BETTER than the old days!”

“Considering the ‘old days’ was filled with you threatening to kill yourself in the ring on a nightly basis, I would sure hope so.”

“Bah!” Scoops swore, shoving the air as he produced a weathered map from inside of his shirt. “Enough arguin’, boah! I’ve got me the map to gold tonight!”

The pair looked at the map together tonight, Joseph’s face scrunching itself in confusion as he tried to look at Scoops’ handwriting. “What even is this…?”

“Well, it’s simple. Ya get the win here tonight against the rival pirate gang led by King Jackass…” Scoops points at a nearby arrow to across the page, leading to a list of names on the side. Names of War Games participants. “…Ya get some momentum to rally yer’ new crew behind!”

It took more times than Joseph would care to admit to be able to properly read all of these names, but once he did, his eyes widened in surprise. “Terry, are you sure about some of these people?”

“Sure, I’m sure. I ain’t the biggest fan of some of these boahs, but it’s all about uniting under a common goal. We kill the King, we fight over the gold. Ain’t bein’ a Pirate about liberatin’ yerself and throwing off the yolk of tyrants?”

“I guess that’s true…”

“Which is why afterwards, we’re gonna be travellin’ right to the X for some treasure!” Scoops points right at the bottom of the page, where sure enough, a comically sized X was waiting. “And X is gonna mark the spot at War Games! We’ve got the hunt all planned out, boah, so I say it’s time we make good on it.”

Before the two could go inside of the store to get ready, the whooping and hollering of the nearby fans catches their attention. They’re eager to see Scoops, and they’re all cheering for support!

Scoops grins as he puts his map away, instead producing a HUGE bag! He reaches inside, and begins throwing out gold-wrapped chocolate coins to the audience in attendance!

“From me to you people!” Scoops shouts as he throws the coins. “Just a bit of the treasure I’ve collected over the years! This is my treat for Halloween, yeah boahs! Ole’ Kiki’s gonna be gettin’ some tricks tonight, though! First this match, then War Games! It’s time we take some power back for ourselves!”

The fans cheer and chant even harder as Scoops walks towards the entrance to the store, continuing to throw chocolate coins all the while!

TODD: Well, Scoops sure is a man of the people! Can’t deny him that!

BAMA: Big ambitions, that’s for sure, but we gotta see if he can make good on those dreams, baby!

Anarchy rolls on to the next match on the card.

The first to appear is Mr. Oz, looming through the fog with his white cloak dragging across the tiled floor. He walks slowly and deliberately, expression blank, surrounded by an eerie choir track. Behind him shuffles his chosen employee, a thin, nervous man in an oversized Jason Voorhees costume. The mask covers half his face, the fake machete rattles in his trembling hand. Oz pauses before stepping into the “ring area,” a circle of open floor surrounded by racks of Halloween décor, and whispers something that sounds like a prayer. Jason stands beside him, motionless, awaiting orders.

BAMA: Mr. Oz: a dangerous member of The Corporation, and one of Anarchy’s longest-serving stars. He’s won more matches on Thursday nights than most of these newcomers combined! You’d be a dumb dog to sleep on Mr. Oz in this match-up here tonight.

TODD: If there’s one thing I know about Oz, it’s that he can win any match on any night! He’s a giant beast of a man, but his brain? Well, that’s where he really shines!

BAMA: His brain? Are you saying Oz gives good head?

TODD: I’m just saying what I’ve heard, Bama!

The floor begins to vibrate. The rumble of an engine echoes through the aisles. A sudden VROOM VROOM fills the store. The crowd of shoppers and employees cheer as Clutch Cassidy drives a battered muscle car through the loading dock and skids to a halt beside the display of animatronic zombies. The headlights flash across the fog, and the door swings open. Cassidy steps out wearing her denim shorts, white halter top, and black leather jacket. Her sunglasses glint in the light as she grins and yells, “VROOM VROOM!” The audience joins her chant.

From the passenger seat emerges her employee, a middle-aged man dressed in a homemade Larry Tact costume. He wears a bald cap, fake muscles painted on his arms, and a cardboard championship belt. He flexes and bellows, “I AM FUCKING DANGEROUS!” Cassidy bursts into laughter and high-fives him before the two make their way toward the center of the store.

TODD: The team of ‘Clutch Cassidy’ and ‘Larry Tact’ seems to be really taking off!

BAMA: Wait a minute, that’s not the real Larry Tact! That’s just some chump in a cheap Larry Tact costume!

TODD: So cheap, that you can get it exclusively at Spirit Halloween for only 59.99! Talk about coming in Clutch!

Finally, the music changes to “In the Face of Evil” by Magic Sword. The crowd turns as Larry Tact steps through a display of smoke and neon light. His presence fills the room instantly. He pounds his chest, points to the crowd, and yells, “THIS IS YOUR SPOTLIGHT!” His employee follows close behind, encased in a cardboard box shaped like a Prius, complete with paper headlights and a handwritten “Eco-Friendly” sticker on the back. The man waves politely through the open sunroof as Tact shakes his head in disbelief and leads him toward the ring area.

BAMA: Now that’s the REAL Larry Tact….I think!

TODD: And he’s accompanied to the ring by….a prius?

BAMA: That’s not just any Prius, Todd! That’s Clutch Cassidy’s worst nightmare! Larry Tact is playing mind games here tonight- and that’s a #TACTFACT!

The cashier bell rings to start the match.

Tact and Oz immediately collide, two powerhouses crashing into one another like wrecking balls. Their impact rattles the nearby shelf of foam tombstones. Cassidy circles them quickly, ducking under Tact’s arm and landing a quick kick to Oz’s knee. Oz grabs her by the throat and lifts her clean off the ground. Cassidy claws at his hand, struggling for air, before kicking off a nearby mannequin display and spinning out of his grasp. She lands on her feet and dropkicks Oz into a wall of fake gravestones.

BAMA: It’s anyone’s game right now! Back and forth, back and forth! But if any of those useless Spirit Halloween employees would hop in and help their teammate, they could get a definite edge!

TODD: This isn’t a tag match, Bama! You’re not supposed to put your Spirit Halloween friend in danger- you’re supposed to be keeping them safe!

Tact takes the opening, scooping Oz into a running powerslam across a table of Halloween masks. The table explodes into plastic fragments as Oz crashes down. Then Cassidy grabs a nearby jack stand from a car-themed display and swings it toward Tact’s midsection. He catches it in both hands and twists, flinging it aside. She ducks a clothesline and answers with a Nitro Kick, the force sending Tact stumbling backward into a rack of vampire cloaks.

Oz recovers, grabbing both Tact and Cassidy by the hair and knocking their heads together. He roars, hoists them both up, and slams them both through a cardboard coffin display!

BAMA: Mr. Oz is starting to show his dominance now! He’s too big, too strong, and too damn good for Tact and Clutch to handle inside this store!

TODD: And that’s a #CERTIFIEDTACTOID- but remember, Bama- they don’t have to pin Oz to win this match! They just have to pin his friend!

BAMA: Or, they could do what CLUTCH suggested in her vignette: work together to take the big man down!

The Spirit employees flinch as debris flies. Jason Voorhees grips his toy machete tightly. The Prius backs away nervously. The fake Larry Tact shadowboxes in the corner, shouting “I’M FUCKING DANGEROUS- AND THAT’S A #TACTFACT!” into the air.

Oz stalks forward, dragging Cassidy up by her hair. He attempts a delayed vertical suplex, squatting to show his power, but Tact sweeps his legs out from under him with a dragon screw. Oz roars in pain and rolls to the side.

Cassidy climbs a nearby shelf, grabs a tire iron from her belt, and leaps off, cracking Oz in the skull with it. The sound echoes through the store like metal on stone. Oz falls to one knee, glaring through his blood-stained hair.

Tact, meanwhile, lifts a real sledgehammer out from behind a skeleton display.

TODD: Wait a minute, where the hell did Larry find a sledgehammer?!

BAMA: Maybe his Spirit Halloween friend stashed it there for him!

Tact smashes the hammer into Oz’s ribs. The giant staggers. Cassidy charges forward again and hits another Nitro Kick, this time to the chest. Oz drops to both knees.

TODD: Now that Tact and Clutch are working together, Oz is starting to look a lot worse for wear!

BAMA: This went from a triple threat tag match, to a 2-on-1 handicap match! Oz never had a chance! This was rigged from the start!

TODD: Oz may be getting the short end of the stick right now, Bama, but I’d just like to remind everyone that this was NEVER a triple threat tag match! The only way to win is by eliminating your opponents through pinning their companion!

Jason Voorhees, sensing danger, steps in front of Mr. Oz and waves his plastic machete threateningly. Tact tilts his head, unimpressed, and simply grabs the kid by the wrist. He then hits him with “The Humbling” – a Uranage Suplex of Larry Tact’s own design! The Dracula-dressed referee slides into position to make the count.

1!

2!

3!

Larry Tact eliminates Mr. Oz!

Oz’s eyes flash wide with fury. He punches a hole through a foam wall before retreating up the aisle. Jason lies motionless on the floor beside a broken fog machine. The bell rings again, leaving only Tact and Cassidy in the match.

BAMA: Mr. Oz looks pissed off! I’m surprised he’s leaving peacefully!

TODD: Mr. Oz might be angry, Bama: but he’s never one to make a scene! He’s a consummate professional! If he wants vengeance, he’ll get it the proper way!

Cassidy leans on a shelf, breathing heavily. Tact cracks his neck and nods in her direction. They circle each other. Their employee companions cheer from opposite corners. The Prius revs weakly, making “vroom” sounds. Cassidy’s Larry Tact double points across the ring and shouts, “You can’t out-Tact the Tact!”

Cassidy grins and launches herself forward. She tackles Tact into a display of animatronic witches, sending sparks across the floor. Tact powers out and spinebusters her into the fake cauldron display. Green smoke bursts up from the impact.

Cassidy writhes, then swings a kick from the ground, catching Tact behind the knee. He drops slightly, and Clutch climbs a ladder set up for decoration, leaps off, and drives both boots into his chest! Tact crashes to the floor!

BAMA: Clutch Cassidy from off the top of the ladder! I thought she was a car-girl, but apparently, she can go aerial as well!

TODD: Trains, planes, and automobiles: Clutch Cassidy does it all!

BAMA: Wait…she does trains?

The Prius employee waddles forward to check on his boss. Cassidy smirks. She rushes in and nails the Prius with a Burnout, stomping down rapidly while yelling “VROOM! VROOM!” with each blow. The Prius falls flat, cardboard panels flying everywhere as their costume is slowly destroyed, piece-by-piece.

BAMA: Clutch Cassidy is just laying into that Spirit employee right now! What a Karen!

TODD: Well, in her defense Bama: she does need to pin or submit that Prius in order to win this match!

Tact slowly recovers before he drags Clutch away from his Prius, slamming her head into a wall, then locking in a Million Dollar Dream. Cassidy gasps and claws at the air. Her fake Tact partner comes up from behind, punching Larry right in the nutsack while screaming, “I’M FUCKING DANGEROUS!”

TODD: A low-blow from Larry Tact TO Larry Tact!

BAMA: Just when you thought you’ve seen it all! But now, we’ve got Larry Tact playing with his own balls on live TV!

The distraction gives Cassidy the break she needs. She twists free and lands a snap DDT. Tact’s head bounces off the floor. Cassidy traps his arm and pulls back into her Pit Stop submission, but when she notices the referee paying no attention she releases Larry.

And instead, she charges at and tackles the flailing Prius!

The Prius waves both cardboard arms frantically while Clutch locks in her Pit Stop submission! Cassidy shouts “SHIFT!”, and The Prius taps repeatedly on the floor!

Clutch Cassidy eliminates Larry Tact!

WINNER - CLUTCH CASSIDY

Clutch immediately releases the Prius once it taps. Cassidy jumps to her feet in celebration as the referee raises her hand. Then, her new Spirit Halloween friend rushes in and gives her a big hug. Clutch and Fake Larry celebrate their victory all the way back to the green room as Tact slowly recovers from the devastating shot to his gonads.

TODD: What an incredible match we just saw! It had everything! It had Jason Vorhees, it had a Prius, and it even had TWO Larry Tacts!

BAMA: Where else are you going to see TWO Larry Tacts, but on XWF Anarchy?!

TODD: We’ve got even more incredible action coming up next, so stay tuned!

As the opening notes begin, the lights go out, save for a single spotlight on the top of the stage. Betsy comes out, but she’s only a silhouette at this point. Just as the drum strikes it’s second note, Betsy dabs and the lights come back. The song starts from the refrain as Betsy starts dancing down the ramp.

“Sin City’s cold and empty
No one’s around to judge me
I can’t see clearly when your gone-one-one”

Arms out, Betsy begins twirling around wildly, blonde ponytail whipping about with her, as she slaps hands with fans on both sides of the ramp. The chorus hits just as Betsy baseball slides into the ring.

“And I said ooooh, I’m blinded by the lights
I can’t sleep until I feel your touch
And I said ooooh, I’m drowning in the night
Oh, when I’m like this, you’re the one I trust”

As the chorus chimes on, Betsy bounces up and hops up onto every ring corner, pumping her fist and bobing her head in time with the song, getting the fans amped up for the upcoming bout. When she finishes playing up the fans, she starts bouncing in place, preparing mentally for the bout.

TODD: And what a clash we’re about to witness here! The mysterious vampiric newcomer and adherent to the diabolical and quite insane Samael Dyson, versus Betsy Granger, the Impossible Traveler herself, who it would seem has had quite a change in attitude lately.

BAMA: Right Todd, and it’s the change in attitude that Arroyo called out.

TODD: Yeah, he’s not buying it. But maybe Betsy will make him eat those words tonight on the road to rescuing “Bella Swan” from that pole. And no folks, I unfortunately did not stutter.

Indeed, a couple of Spirit Halloween mooks are just putting the finishing touches on mounting “Bella” from a pole affixed to one of the corner turnbuckles. And just like the real Bella, the fake one is showing almost no emotion at all!

At any rate, the bell rings soon after and the match begins with Betsy Granger going hard on the newcomer! Lashing out at him with a series of nasty kicks! Kristoffer seems to take the damage in stride, going up and under the ropes with his top half to force the ref to stop the assault.

In fact, things seem to proceed in a similar fashion for a time, with Betsy building up a head of steam only for Kris to stall things out with an underhanded tactic! The fans start to boo and Betsy is clearing getting even more fired up!

TODD: I’m not sure I quite understand Kris’ tactics here.

BAMA: Oh come on Todd, it’s mind games! Getting in Betsy’s head! He wants her to unleash that darkness for all the world to see!

Betsy continues on the offense until Kris lands a quick precision chop to Betsy’s throat, followed by a running STO that plants her. Kris turns his attention to “Bella” for the first time and starts to climb up the turnbuckle to untie her, but Betsy sneaks up behind and gets under him, sending him crashing to the ring with an electric chair drop.

This putts Granger back in control for a while and she starts in on her opponent with some ground based wrestling, with the dual purpose of trying to calm her rage so she doesn’t get sloppy and to set him up for her finish. She ties Arroyo into a sugar hold, which he breaks, followed by some more strikes to lay him low, and then a sleephold. But Kris is able to fight out of that too and turn the tables on Betsy with a jawbreaker.

With Kris back in the driver’s seat, he decides to get technical too, rushing Betsy down until he can get her in a crossface hold, but Betsy fights for the ropes, but that doesn’t stop Kris drom draggin Betsy away and into an STF, that he maintains for a good amount of time before breaking the hold himself and re-approaching “Bella”. This time, Kris is able to get the tie partially undone before Betsy, from out of nowhere, leaps up onto the turnbuckle and hits Kristoffer with an exploder suplex off the top!

BAMA: That’s what we call a momentum changer, Todd! Did you see that impact?!

Both are down for a time but Betsy rouses first and goes to “Bella”. She now starts to untie her, but the damn thing must be like a gordion knot because Betsy is clearly getting frustrated at its complexity. Meanwhile, Kris slithers up to the corner, and starts beating on Betsy until he can throw her off the turnbuckle. Kris hits a series of savage kicks to Betsy before throwing her into the corner and hitting her with the Teatrro Grottesco series of knee shots. Kris returns to “Bella” once more to work on the knot, and he starts openly tearing into it with his fangs!

TODD: Well, that’s one way to do it.

Betsy, seeing this, knows she can’t let it stand! She flies at Kris, hammering on him until he too falls off the top turnbuckle. After a brief tussle Betsy is able to hit Kris with her trademark move the Galactic Advantage! She goes back to work on “Bella” and the fans pop as they see she’s finally got most of the know undone.

But Kristoffer returns! He climbs up the turnbuckle on the other side of the pole and he and Betsy start trading furious blows until finally….Kris spits blood in Betsy’s eyes!

TODD: Where the hell did he get that from?!

BAMA: It’s kind of in our bodies, Todd.

TODD: I know that! But to just….just spew it like that?!

Kris pushes the blinded Betsy off the turnbuckle and follows her down, picking her up again only to tag her with the ROMEO’S LAMENT, complete with a bloody deep, sensual kiss! Betsy’s head gets drilled into the canvas and Kris wastes no time climbing that turnbuckle again and chewing through the knot until finally….it’s undone!

Winner - Kristoffer 'Vamp' Arroyo'

Kris takes “Bella” (who still has the acting capability of a wet sack) in his arms and leaps down with her, before sauntering over to Betsy and dumping her unceremoniously on top of Betsy as his music hits.

TODD: Well there we have it folks, Kristoffer “Vamp” Arroyo with a huge win over one of the War Games captains!

BAMA: I can only imagine what this does for Betsy’s change in attitude. She’s going to need to right this ship heading into the pay per view.

TODD: OMG Bama! I'm being told we have to interrupt the broadcast once again! There's commotion at the front of the store!

BAMA: I swear to go if it's At....

The Tron comes to life again and the front of the Spirit Halloween is shown. There's a huddled mass at the front door hunched near the floor and single male figure standing with what appears to be a gun in hand.

Man: IVE BEEN IN THIS DAMN STORE FOR FOUR HOURS! ALL I WANTED WAS A K-POP COSTUME FOR MY DAUGHTER! I didn't come for this wrestling bullshit...if I don't get that costume in the next fifteen seconds I swear to God!

Then out of nowhere a yellow and lime green silhouette appears standing on a register.

Atara: Have No Fear Citizens!

In a blur lime and lemon she jumps from the register and tackles the man to the ground and with a rope pulled from no where hogties the guy! After a few moments pops up gun in hand! The crowd cheers!

Todd: It's Ruby! I can't believe it! It's Anarchy legend Ruby!

BAMA: No it's not Todd! It's Atty in a Slutty Ruby Costume..Jesus effin..

Todd: You can't say that Bama! It's Halloween. In Girl World they can dress slutty and you can't say anything! Haha...now back to the action...

[b]

[/b]

TODD: Folks, you better not change that channel, because we’re about to receive a pay-per-view main-event quality match right now! Kieran King versus Scoops McGee, the champion versus one of the most experienced veterans in the game right now!

BAMA: And it’s a rematch from their last match all the way back in February, baby! Better believe both these boys are chompin’ at the bit to get to each other!

The first, frenetic strums of Faith No More's "Gentle Art of Making Enemies" rips through the store as strobes of gold and white cast across the front entrance and crowd. After several moments, and then a few more for good measure, Kieran King eventually saunters through the front door, smugly mugging for the audience. Around him comes his personal security detail, led by Tommy Gunn as Kieran flashes his Universal Championship around his waist.

And everyone at the door right now…

BAMA: Look at ‘em, baby! They’re all dressed like pirates!

TODD: That’s the name of the game for this match, Bama, but I’m surprised he’s got all the security dressed like that too… guess they’re committed to the bit here tonight!

Instead of his usual trademark sprint to the ring, Kieran takes his time walking into the store, drinking in the capitalist environment as gaudy costumes and sales were scattered in between the rows of paying fans as he simply raised an eyebrow at it all. He handed his Universal title off to Tommy Gunn, who handed it off to the referee nearby as he readied himself for a fight.

TODD: Gotta believe it’s all business tonight for Kieran. He has the chance to make a statement ahead of War Games by pinning the man who finished second place in the Captain’s Match during Spooky Savage.

BAMA: Not to mention that he’s got a point to prove here tonight! Scoops may have pinned Kieran in February, but that was only to take the Xtreme title tonight! Kieran still beat Scoops in the tournament, and he’s gonna try to make that 2-0 in official matches against him!

The audience waits with bated breath as they eagerly await Scoops McGee’s arrival…

…

…

There’s nothing.

Kieran scoffs as he soon realizes this. There’s murmurs of confusion within the audience, everyone unsure as to what was going on.

BAMA: Scoops didn’t try and duck this match, did he?

TODD: That doesn’t seem like him, though. Do you think he got attacked by someone?

BAMA: I don’t think that he-

Kieran poses for the crowd, drinking in their boos as he shouts aloud into the store. “Look at this! He KNEW he had no chance against me!”

The boos only grow louder in response.

Suddenly, a familiar voice interjects itself into the store.

“Hit the music, boah!”

From the pirate ship that overlooked the aisles above the store, the distant sound of a boombox came to life.

BAMA: What the- Are we even allowed to play that song?! The copyright lawyers are gonna be on us soon, baby!

TODD: That’s Scoops’ voice, but I don’t see him…

From up on high aboard the pirate ship!

It’s Scoops McGee! It’s his trusted cameraman, Noah Larson! And it’s Scoops’ old tag team partner, Joseph Taylor!

And they’re ALSO dressed as pirates!

And the crowd pops like crazy!

BAMA: Did Scoops bring his friend from the retirement center or something?!

TODD: That’s Scoops’ old partner from the territory days in Second City Wrestling, Bama! That’s Joseph Taylor, and I think we’re seeing the Magnificent Two back together for tonight! But King Kieran doesn’t look too pleased about this!

Kieran scowls at Scoops, shouting at him as the boombox continues to blare music through the store!

Scoops looks at Joseph, who nods back at him. He reaches down with a pocket knife, cutting ropes to unfurl a tarp sign from the pirate ship!

KIERAN KING
IS A BITCH

Kieran’s face flashes with rage as he turns to Tommy Gunn, barking orders at him as he points up at Scoops who’s on high! “Get him down from there!”

The security team is marching forward as Scoops is realizing it’s showtime! He cuts another rope nearby as the officers advance forward, and Scoops takes it into his hands…

SCOOPS SWINGS OFF OF THE PIRATE SHIP!

AND HE PROCEEDS TO LAND ON TOP OF THE OFFICERS TO TAKE THEM OUT WITH A CROSSBODY!

BAMA: Did that man just fly about fifteen feet in the air past 60 years old?!

TODD: That’s sure as Hell one way to try and even the odds! But he’s still got Kieran King to worry about!

Joseph climbs down from the pirate ship on his own end, surveying the scene as Scoops begins to pull himself up!

The bell rings over the loudspeaker!

KIERAN KING ©
- vs -
SCOOPS MCGEE

O' CAPTAIN MY CAPTAIN:

Both wrestlers will be dressed up as PIRATES while they battle across the store in search of a pinfall or submission! That is all!

DING! DING! DING!

TODD: And we’re off to the races to start! Scoops McGee already trying to pull himself right back to his feet after his stunt jump!

BAMA: He better look out though, because Kiki is already right on top of him!

Scoops is doubled over as Kieran King is right in front of him, laying into him with rights and lefts! Scoops grunts as he has to cover up against the assault, quickly shoving Kieran back as he rights himself!

But Kieran responds with a BRUTAL kick! It lands flush against Scoops’ chest, a loud ‘oooh’ coming from the nearby fans as Scoops backs up on impact! Kieran pursues though- ANOTHER roundhouse lands flush on the chest!

Scoops retreats further into the store, but Kieran is still fresh and pursuing him! He lines up one more shot, looking for another roundhouse-!

CAUGHT BY SCOOPS! He pulls Kieran in for a STIFF left hand that would threaten to knock him back, if not for Scoops still having him by the leg! He hoists Kieran up, only to drop him right back down with a shinbreaker!

TODD: Quick thinking by Scoops gets him out of that onslaught by Kieran there.

BAMA: Got a lot more work to do. Kiki’s strategy revolves around his speed and kicks, but it’s all fueled by his pride and rage!

Scoops grabs Kieran by the same leg targeted, looking to try to cinch in the Merry-Go-Round, but before the toe hold can be applied, Kieran is quick to try and bring himself onto his feet! Scoops still has the leg though!

BUT KIERAN JUMPS! ENZUIGIRI RIGHT ON THE CHIN!

Scoops staggers back into a miniature haunted house display, having to lean on the construct for support! Kieran is right there again, but once more, Scoops thinks fast! He yanks a nearby arm off of a skeleton mannequin, before turning right back around to Kieran and clocks him right across the face with that!

The two continue their brawl back and forth along the haunted house set, Scoops managing to use his skeleton arm to good use as Kieran moves fast and hits hard. He manages to even up the weapon playing field himself when he yanks off a skeleton skull instead and kicks it like a soccer ball right into Scoops’ gut!

Scoops doubles over from the impact, allowing Kieran to run forward and launch Scoops with a SHOTGUN DROPKICK!

SCOOPS GOES FLYING AND CRASHES INTO THE HAUNTED HOUSE! THE DISPLAY OPENS UP WITH A HUGE GASH AS HE FALLS!

BAMA: Management ain’t probably gonna be liking the property destruction bill after this show, that’s for damn sure…

TODD: Forget the money, Scoops has to be out of it right now! Kieran King’s making an example out of him as we speak!

Kieran drags Scoops out of the display by the ankle and goes for the cover!

ONE!

TWO!

KICKOUT!

Kieran frowns as he gets up, but he says nothing. He takes a minute, wiping the sweat out of his eyes as he takes a minute to collect himself… BEFORE YANKING OUT A DISPLAY TOMBSTONE AND CRACKING SCOOPS ACROSS THE SKULL AS HE GETS UP!

TODD: Kieran’s willing to destroy the entire store if it means he can keep Scoops down!

BAMA: The longer Scoops stays in this, the worse he’s making it for himself!

Scoops is on all fours, crawling to get away and create some breathing room between himself and Kieran! Kieran grits his teeth, looking to close the distance as the old-timer keeps moving! It’s a game of cat and mouse that brings them into the aisles, but Kieran picks Scoops up from behind…

ONLY FOR SCOOPS TO GO BEHIND! HE’S GOT A WHIP FROM AN INDIANA JONES COSTUME NEARBY! AND HE WRAPS IT TIGHT AROUND KIERAN’S NECK AS HE SQUEEZES THE LIFE OUT OF HIM!

SHOCK AND PANIC IS ON KIERAN’S FACE AS HE CLAWS AWAY AT THE WHIP! HE’S TURNING A BRIGHT CHERRY RED AS HE’S TRYING TO SCRAMBLE AWAY TO NO AVAIL! SCOOPS THROWS HIM INTO THE NEARBY SHELVES OF THE AISLE TO BRING HIM AWAY!

BAMA: Look at this, Toddy! Scoops is trying to kill the man!

TODD: Scoops is trying to bring as much of a fight as he can, and Kieran is having some trouble getting out of this predicament!

KIERAN IS BEGINNING TO HUNCH OVER! THE RED ON HIS FACE IS TURNING TO A DARK SHADE OF PURPLE! HIS KNEES ARE BUCKLING!

BUT TOMMY GUNN ATTACKS SCOOPS FROM BEHIND! A DOUBLE AXE HANDLE BRINGS THE VETERAN DOWN AS HE LAYS IN SOME STOMPS TO KEEP HIM DOWN!

TODD: That’s Kieran King’s security detail getting back into this! What are they trying to pull here?!

BAMA: Like it or not, it’s no-DQ in this match! They’re trying to make sure he doesn’t die out there!

Tommy Gunn is quickly stopped by a FASTBALL PITCH SOCKING HIM RIGHT IN THE SKULL!

From across the store, it’s Joseph Taylor, yanking some equipment from the sports costumes! He’s continuing to pelt Tommy with hard throws as a gash is apparent on his forehead from the baseball!

TODD: Looks like Joseph’s trying to even the odds!

BAMA: Yeah, but there’s a lot more of the guards than there are of him!

More guards are swarming Joseph as he quickly goes on the move, pelting the lot of them with more thrown balls! Tommy tries to advance towards Joseph, but Scoops pulls him around and drops him with a headbutt that has Tommy taken out of the aisles!

Scoops scowls, looking for Kieran, but-

CLANG!

BOOTS CLASH AGAINST STEEL AS SCOOPS LOOKS OFF TO THE SIDE!

THE AISLE IS TUMBLING DOWN RIGHT ON TOP OF HIM! IT PRACTICALLY CRUSHES HIM!

AND THE NEXT AISLE FALLS AS WELL FROM THE IMPACT! AND THE NEXT! AND THE NEXT!

BAMA: What the Hell is happening, baby?!

TODD: We need an instant replay from the camera angle on high thanks to Noah!

The footage rewinds, only to show that Kieran King toppled the entire set of aisles with a Shotgun Dropkick!

TODD: An insane level of strength there! How the Hell did he even do that?!

BAMA: Maybe these aisles ain’t the sturdiest, baby, but that might have also been sheer rage talking for him!

Scoops crawls out from underneath the wreckage, haggard and weary, but Kieran King is right there!

He picks Scoops up!

AND IMMEDIATELY JUMPS OFF OF ONE OF THE FALLEN AISLES WITH HIM IN HIS GRASP FOR AN AVALANCHE BRAINBUSTER!

TODD: Kieran King just said ‘F Ur Head’ to Scoops!

BAMA: You think an old timer like that can really afford to take any more concussions than he already has?! ‘Cause landing his skull on steel is a great way to do just that!

TODD: I don’t think Kieran cares either way, Bama!

Kieran hooks the leg one more time!

ONE!

TWO!

KICKOUT!

BAMA: How did he not have it?!

TODD: Your guess is as good as mine, Bama…

Kieran swears aloud as he gets back up, hands on his hips, pacing around as he scowls at Scoops who’s trying to get back up to his feet. Kieran lunges, bringing Scoops right back down with a running boot to the face.

Once he collects himself, he picks Scoops up

COUNTER SMALL PACKAGE BY SCOOPS!

ONE!

TWO!

KICKOUT!

TODD: SCOOPS SUMMONING THE WILL TO LIVE HERE!

BAMA: And Kiki don’t look too happy about it!

Kieran lunges right towards Scoops, but Scoops clocks him with another headbutt! He reaches forward, grabbing Kieran by the wrist- CATTLE PROD! THE FOREARM CLOBBERS KIERAN ON THE JAW AS HIS EYES GLAZE OVER!

SCOOPS PULLS HIM IN ONE MORE TIME FOR A SECOND CATTLE PROD! THIS ONE LAYS HIM OUT!

SCOOPS STUMBLES BACK AND FALLS ON HIS ASS AS HE TAKES A DEEP BREATH! HE KNOWS HE’S GONNA HAVE TO PULL OUT THE WIN SOMEHOW!

HE WALKS OVER NEARBY TO A SERIES OF SALES TABLES AND SWEEPS EVERYTHING OFF!

BAMA: I don’t even know if I wanna think about what Scoops is thinking here…

TODD: Knowing him, it’s gotta be something big to put Kieran away…

SCOOPS DRAGS THE SALES TABLES ACROSS THE STORE! HE STOPS RIGHT IN FRONT OF KIERAN BEFORE HE PICKS HIM UP!

HEADBUTT!

HEADBUTT!

HEADBUTT!

HEADBUTT!

HEADBUTT!

KIERAN FALLS LIMP AS SCOOPS PLACES HIM RIGHT ONTO THE TABLES! AND SCOOPS RIGHT UP TO THE OTHER SET OF AISLES HANGING HIGH IN THE STORE!

TODD: Oh no.

BAMA: Oh Hell no! Kieran’s gotta wake up and get outta there, fast!

But before Scoops can try to get up to the pirate ship, he’s seeing Joseph Taylor getting overwhelmed by multiple security guards wailing on him and wearing him down!

Scoops swears loudly as he grabs a nearby Captain America shield and goes charging in!

The shield takes down one of the guards as Scoops throws it at him! He picks it right back up and clobbers another one right in the skull! Scoops grabs a third and throws him right beside the fan spectating area as they have to move out of the way! Scoops grabs a fourth and throws him right out of the glass store windows! The pack is beginning to thin out!

TODD: Scoops is a house on fire right now! The Magnificent Two are taking out Kieran’s guards at a steady rate!

BAMA: Yeah, but it’s more time Scoops is wasting!

Scoops quickly checks on Joseph, before he gets back to moving towards Kieran! He scales the nearest upright shelves, moving across towards Kieran as he lines up his mark!

ONLY TO SEE KIERAN ISN’T THERE!

TODD: Scoops took too long!

BAMA: Can’t keep your eyes off the champ for that long!/blue]

Kieran is alive and at the bottom of the shelves! He slams into the shelving unit once- twice- three times! The shelves rattle as Scoops precariously wobbles on top!

KIERAN HITS IT WITH ANOTHER DROPKICK AS THE UNSTABLE SHELVING UNIT TOPPLES!

AND SCOOPS FALLS THROUGH THE SERIES OF NEARBY TABLES!

[blue]TODD: DID HE JUST DIE?!

BAMA: Kiki just killed the man!

Kieran grins as he exhaustedly brings himself over, collapsing over Scoops for the pin!

ONE!

TWO!

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

WINNER: KIERAN KING!

TODD: Scoops brought his A-game, but despite all the chaos and carnage these two put each other through, it wasn’t enough to topple the champ!

BAMA: Yeah, but Kiki’s lookin’ stronger than ever before War Games! You better believe he’s gonna try to put that #1 pick to good use here ahead of the event!

Kieran rips his title out of the referee’s hands as he holds it on high in front of the referees! Tommy Gunn quickly comes to check on his boss, who throws an exhausted arm around him as the two walk out of the store!

Noah climbs down from the pirate ship and Joseph drags himself across the store, the two of them checking on the unconscious Scoops as doctors begin to check on his condition.

TODD: That was a match from Hell tonight, alright. You’ve gotta wonder what condition Scoops is gonna be in before his TV title match on Warfare! What about War Games?!

BAMA: To Kieran, that’s just one less competitor who could go for his title if Scoops really is down for the count!

Anarchy fades to commercial as the show rolls on.

Big Dick Lichter’s office looks like a dollar-store haunted mansion. Plastic bats hang crookedly from the ceiling. Fake cobwebs cover the bookshelves. A fog machine hums and spits at random. On his desk sits a golden nameplate that reads Big Dick Lichter – General Manager of Anarchy. Next to it, a bowl of candy and a stack of spreadsheets labeled “Revenue Growth.”

Lichter lounges in his leather chair, one leg crossed over the other, wearing a bright orange tie and a smug grin. His phone is wedged between his shoulder and ear as he sorts through a pile of Halloween-themed paperwork.

“What do you mean Thunder Knuckles can’t find a partner?”

He lets out an exaggerated sigh, leaning back.

“Oh, he’s running late? Cry me a river. This isn’t daycare. This is Anarchy, baby. My Anarchy. The first Halloween show under Big Dick management, and I’ll be damned if it doesn’t run smooth.”

He grabs a fun-size Milky Way and unwraps it mid-rant.

“You tell Thunder Knuckles that the show starts when I say it starts. Not when his buddy strolls in. No delays. No excuses. If he can’t find a partner, that’s his problem. Let him fight alone. Maybe he’ll finally prove he’s as good as he says he is.”

He chews the candy and smirks, waving his hand at the “Assistant GM” skeleton in the corner.

“You see, this is the difference between me and every GM that’s come before. They’d bend over backward to accommodate people. Not me. I’m results-driven. I don’t babysit, I build success. You’re looking at the man who brought Anarchy back into the blue. Ticket sales up. Merch sales up. Viewership up. Ratings climbing faster than Thunder Knuckles’ blood pressure right now.”

He laughs, leaning forward and slapping the desk.

“I told the board I’d turn this thing around, and guess what? I did. In one month. One! When Big Dick Lichter takes charge, things get bigger. Better. Harder. Stronger. That’s called leadership.”

He listens for a moment, pretending to take the call seriously again, then cuts them off.

“No, I said no delays. The show goes on. Cue his damn music. If his partner isn’t there, then maybe he’ll learn to show up early next time.”

He ends the call and tosses his phone onto the desk, picking up another candy bar.

“I swear, this roster’s allergic to professionalism. Lucky for them, Big Dick’s here to inject a little discipline. The show goes on with or without you. And thanks to me, Anarchy isn’t just surviving. It’s thriving. It’s back in the blue, baby!”

He takes a bite, chews thoughtfully, and nods to himself.

“Big Dick saves the day again. Happy Halloween to me!”

He leans back in the chair as the fog machine sputters louder, filling the office in smoke while the candy wrapper crinkles in his hand.

TODD: Folks, we’re onto our main event! And this one has so much at stake!

BAMA: Absolutely, Todd! XXXVI pulled off the upset of the century at Relentless when he beat Thunder Knuckles for the Revolution title. TK responded by defending his other belt, the Anarchy Tags, basically single-handed my, with only Jimmy in his corner…

TODD: And tonight, XXXVI has laid a challenge, planning to take TK’s other Thursday night title, the Anarchy Tags! With the mysterious Director in his corner… will XXXVI make his record 2-0 against TK? Or do TK and his mystery partner have a mystery truck up their sleeves against their mysterious opponents!

BAMA: It’s already a crazy match, Toddrick! And we haven’t even mentioned the Glass Ceiling stipulation! Someone might be going off the roof tonight!

The roof of the Spirit Halloween alights in red. Smoke gathers around the rooftop. 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 rooftop and takes in the mixed reaction from the crowd. He shakes his out his head and shoulders and begins to walk toward the ring, hands still in prayer pose. Then from behind him, appears CIX… and THE DIRECTOR!

XXXVI leads the way toward the ring as his valet and the Director flank him!

TODD: Here he is, the mystery man holding the Revolution Title… XXXVI! XXXVI has been on a hot streak ever since Relentless! He absolutely thrashed Hixx at Spooky Savage! But the monkey on his back is… was beating Thunder Knuckles a fluke? Can he do it again?!?

BAMA: The momentum is in XXXVI’s favor Toddrick. But it only takes ONE mistake for a future Legend and Former Universal champ like Thunder Knuckles to pick up the win!

TODD: That’s the key question! What has TK changed between now and Relenltess to adapt his game? What has XXXVI prepared to counteract it? And what role will their partners play?[/white]

Half way down, XXXVI 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. He 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 Director stands in the corner, remaining very, very mysterious…

…

Twenty pint-sized midgets line the route from the roof entry to the ring, each gripping a pair of sparklers like tiny torches, holding them high in tribute to the man who is about to come to the ring. The lights turn off and the only light is sparks of the sparklers.

Through the the billowing smoke emanating from the rooftop entrance steps Thunder Knuckles, both Anarchy Tag Titles slung over his shoulders, shining under the sparks like stolen treasures. His smirk isn’t just arrogant, it’s insulting. He bobs his head to the beat, not because he’s feeling the music, but because he knows he is the music.

The crowd boos, so he slows down just to make them wait, sauntering past the midgets. He doesn’t even glance at them. Why would he? They’re here for him.

[blue]TODD: So much gusto! So much flare in everything Thunder Knuckles does! …But, where’s his partner? Wasn’t he supposed to have a mystery partner?

BAMA: I’m receiving word that TK is going it alone tonight! He’s the Anarchy Tag Team Champions alone, he doesn’t need anyone else to defend them!

TODD: Oh my! I admire his heart, but that puts him at a significant disadvantage in this stipulation! TK is going to have pin BOTH XXXVI AND the Director to defend his belts!

BAMA: Or throw them off the roof!

TODD: They each only have to pin TK to win!

BAMA: Or throw him off the roof! TK’s got so much moxie, he don’t need brains. But he signed himself up for a fucking uphill climb tonight!

Sliding into the ring, he springs to his feet in one smooth move, back turned to the camera on purpose, because he knows the shot is better without seeing his face. He raises his right fist high, not as a salute, but as a statement to everyone in the back.

And then it happens, like a final insult, counterfeit XBUX rain from the rafters, every one of them plastered with his smug grin. The crowd tears into each other for the fake money while TK stands perfectly still, basking in the madness that he’s caused.

HIGHLIGHT REEL

The moment the bell rings and TK charges headlong at XXXVI, slamming into XXXVI with a Lou Thesz Press, raining down stiff shots!

TODD: Oh my! I think TK is in the mood to even the score tonight!

BAMA: He gotta watch himself tho, Toddy baby! If he comes out in a burst of offense, that wiley XXXVI might rope-a-dope him!

Even with TK mounting the mysterious Revolution champion, XXXVI manages to raise his guard, blocking the brunt of TK’s wild flurry of offensive punches…

On the apron, The Director snaps his fingers… CIX pulls out a… tall thin suitcase?

She clicks it open… revealing…

A WHIP!

TODD: Oh my! Is he gonna whip TK?

BAMA: Odds are looking good on that bet, Toddrick!

TK continues fiendishly trying to crack through XXXVI with wild mounted pun-

KERACK! The Director cracks his whip on the apron — CRACK! — the sound splits the night.

…TK looks upward, so laser-focused on the Revolution champion, he wasn’t even aware the Director had a whip!

And the moment TK takes his eyes of XXXVI, XXXVI drops his guard and shifts into offense! He wraps his arms around the back of TK’s neck!

Judo throw! TK goes ass over teakettle into the apron…

TK tries to lock in with another charging Lou Thesz press!

…But this time, XXXVI is ready!

SNAP DRAGON SUPLEX!

TK’s back bouncing against the mat with a thud! XXXVI looks laser-focused as the Director applauds his ‘partner’ from the apron!

TODD: TK came in with a plan… but I think that plan included locking horns with XXXVI one-on-one! He’s gonna have to adapt his game plan to account for the Director!

TODD: XXXVI is looking to end this one in record time!

BAMA: You ain’t lying, Toddrick! After a dominating show of offense, XXXVI is trying to bully-ball TK off the roof!

TK gets tossed through the ropes and lands on his knees outside… he slowly pulls himself up, as XXXVI runs to the opposite ropes, hits them, building speed!

BASEBALL SLIDE! TK eats XXXVI’s boots on the chin, stumbling backward!

INTO A PILE OF BROKEN GLASS! TK’s face contorts with pain!

[blue]BAMA: Thunder Knuckles gotta do something something quick or lightning’s gonna strike twice for Mister XXXVI!

TK pulls himself out of the glass… just as XXXVI hits him with a basement dropkick to the face! Sprawling backward again! And now he’s sprawled toward the edge of the roof!

The crowd holds its breath as TK teeters!

He even slips on a bit of glass!

…

BUT HE REMAINS UPRIGHT!

TODD: TK surviving… But for how long!

XXXVI runs in for the kill, looking for a spinning heel k-

NO! TK shoulder tackles him mid-run, sending him tumbling back toward the ring!

[blue]BAMA: XXXVI trying to bully-ball the ultimate bully! And now TK’s in the driver’s seat!

TODD: TK’s gotten XXXVI back in the ring and he’s looking to score his first elimination of the night…

As XXXVI slowly… dizzily… rises to his feet near his corner… the Director watches this sequence intently… he barks something at CIX…

TK snags XXXVI by the leg, looking for a…

THUNDERSTRIKE! (LEG DDT)

…But when he does, the Director reaches over the ropes to grab XXXVI’s arm… and CIX reaches up to grab the Director’s arm! Their support keeps XXXVI upright and TK flops to the mat!

Where XXXVI doesn’t waste a second! LEG DROP across the throat!

TODD: This one’s supposed to be two-on-one! It’s feeling like three-on-one!

BAMA: How many times has TK used the numbers game to his advantage, Toddrick! Turnabout is fairplay!

XXXVI holds the leg guillotined across TK’s leg!

ONE!

TWO!

NO! TK forces the shoulder up!

TODD: XXXVI has been physically brutalizing TK! Something’s gotta give her!

TK’s breath heaves from the mat as XXXVI peers down, like a kid with a scalpel trying to figure out the most horrifying way to dissect a frog.

KERACK! Suddenly, the Director snaps his whip and holds out his hand…

TODD: Oh c’mon! The Director only wants in this match now that TK is whipped!

BAMA: I don’t think he’s whipped yet, Todd! But he will be when the Director’s done with him!

XXXVI tags in the Director…

The Director steps through the ropes… with his whip… and snaps his whip around TK’s arm — holding him in place!

XXXVI sprints up the corner, flips backward, and…

CORKSCREW KICK! Right into TK’s jaw!

…TK goes to drop… But the Director’s whip holds him upright…

With the whip still wrapped tight around TK’s arm, The Director pulls TK forward… KNEE LIFT straight to the jaw…

And TK drops!

TODD: That’s gotta be it…

The Director tosses aside his whip and hooks the leg…

ONE!

TWO

THREEEEEEEE-NO! SOMEHOW TK GETS THE SHOULDER UP!

TODD: How?!? HOW!!!!

The crowd pops for TK’s fighting spirit as the Director… moves back to the corner and tags in XXXVI, telling him to finish the job already…

XXXVI grabs TK by the back of the neck, looking for Third Eye Blind! (Romero Special)

…

BUT TK snapmares XXXVI over his head!

TODD: TK’s been slammed into glass, whipped… but he ain’t done yet!

XXXVI spins around, trying to hop back on the offensi-

SPEAR! SPEAR! SPEAR! TK spears XXXVI in the center of the ring!

The Director snaps at CIX, demanding she get his whip… she retrieves it from where he dropped it earlier…

TK grabs XXXVI by the scruff of the neck, and latches his hands around leg…

CIX gives the Director his whip and he steps through the ropes again…

TK’s looking for the…

THUNDERSTR-

KERACK! WHIP across the back!

BAMA: WHIP IT! WHIP IT GOOD!

TK grabs at his back agonized…

The Director WHIPS HIM AGAIN! And TK goes up and over the top rope to the outside!

TODD: What the hell’s even going on here! The Director’s not the legal man!

BAMA: I need to check my rulebook, but I don’t think you need to be the legal man when you’re throwing someone off the roof!

TK is slowly but surely whipped toward the edge of the roof by the Director’s cruel strikes… XXXVI has rolled under the bottom rope to follow the action!

TK’s feet stand on the precipice of the roof…

TODD: Oh god, I can’t look…
The Director reels back his whip for the finishing blow…

KERACK!

…

BUT TK catches it!

TODD: oh my God! Did TK rope-a-dope… er… whip-a-dope… the Director into getting closer to the edge?

BAMA: Ain’t no way to tank those whip strikes! TK felt every one of them! Like I said, more moxie than brains!

TK, covered in whip marks, snarls with a smile… Even in his mask, the Director’s body language oozes fear…

TK tugs him in, grabbing his leg!

TODD: OH MY GOD! TK’s gonna Thunderstrike the Director off the roof!

TK goes for the…

THUNDERSTR-

WHAM! XXXVI hits TK square in the schnozz with the spinning heel kick!

BAMA: The numbers game from Mister roman numbers himself!

XXXVI pulls the Director away from the ledge…

As TK…

Topples over the side!

AND LANDS ON A CAR!

TODD: He’s fallen off the roof! TK is off the roof!

WINNER AND NEW ANARCHY TAG-TEAM CHAMPIONS: XXXVI AND THE DIRECTOR!

TODD: I can’t believe it! Twice! Two back-to-back times, XXXVI has bested Thunder Knuckles!

BAMA: Sometimes, a guy just has your number! If TK wants too? He’ll bounce back… but the history books will read, TK, double champion of Anarchy, lost BOTH his belts in SEPARATE matches… to XXXVI!

TODD: And the Director! This changes the whole landscape of the tag division! What will happen from here?!?

HUGE THANKS TO ALL OF OUR MATCHWRITERS

LIAM DESMOND x2
PETER PRINCIPLE x2
CHARLIE NICKLES
“VAMP” ARROYO

& OUR WONDERFUL SEGMENT WRITERS

SCOOPS MCGEE
KIERAN KING
THUNDER KNUCKLES
“BIG” DICK LICHTER
ATARA RAVEN

& Thanks to everyone who RPed!

[/b][/b]]]>

Spirit Halloween Presents: XWF Anarchy

[Image: 45NP2LJ.png]

10 - 23 - 2025

LIVE FROM THE SPIRIT HALLOWEEN FLAGSHIP STORE!

EGG HARBOR TOWNSHIP, NEW JERSEY

KIERAN KING ©
- vs -
SCOOPS MCGEE

O' CAPTAIN MY CAPTAIN:

Both wrestlers will be dressed up as PIRATES while they battle across the store in search of a pinfall or submission! That is all!

The crowd are seen chatting amongst one another when the lights suddenly go out in the Spirit Halloween store, causing a little buzz from the crowd.

]

''Wrestling has more than one... royal family.''

As soon as those words are heard, the crowd inside the Target Center erupted as you heard the commentator's reaction as well.

[blue]TODD: What?!? No freaking way! Is he here? Is Razor Blade in the building?!?

BAMA: …Yeah, he is, Toddrick. He showed up for his scheduled match like he always does.

''Adrenaline, in my soul

Every thought out of control

Do it all to get them off their feet''

''Crowd is here, about to blow
waitin' for me to start the show

out the curtain, lights go up I'm home

Whoooooooooooooa!''

Landerson delivers boots and punches to the back of Razor’s skull…

Blade impatiently grasps his opponent and whips him…

[Image: 71I3ePi1FLL._AC_SL500_.jpg]

WINNER: RAZOR BLADE!

WINNER: SUMMER PAGE!

Whoever holds this piece of paper,
is awarded the right to select a match stipulation
for 1 (one) XWF Revolution Championship Match.

- Signed, Dick Lichter

Larry Tact eliminates Mr. Oz!

Clutch Cassidy eliminates Larry Tact!

WINNER - CLUTCH CASSIDY

Winner - Kristoffer 'Vamp' Arroyo'

[b]

[/b]

KIERAN KING ©
- vs -
SCOOPS MCGEE

O' CAPTAIN MY CAPTAIN:

Both wrestlers will be dressed up as PIRATES while they battle across the store in search of a pinfall or submission! That is all!

WINNER: KIERAN KING!

HIGHLIGHT REEL

WINNER AND NEW ANARCHY TAG-TEAM CHAMPIONS: XXXVI AND THE DIRECTOR!

[/b][/b]]]>