<![CDATA[X-treme Wrestling Federation - Anarchy Results]]> https://xwf1999.com/ Mon, 13 Apr 2026 16:39:17 +0000 MyBB <![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

[Image: imgbbbcent.webp]


ANTLANTIC CITY, NEW JERSEY







MR. OZ
- vs -
REGGIE ESTRADA
- vs -
SUMMER PAGE

X-TREME RULEZ TRIPLE THREAT!




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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!





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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




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GKspI0C

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!”

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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: Mr. Oz makes his way to the ring! Fresh off a hellacious February, Oz has taken on anyone and everyone who dared step between those ropes!

Bama: And tonight, Todd- he has the chance to do it again! Facing two of the fiercest competitors Anarchy has to offer, Mr. Oz will have to tap into his killer instincts if we wants to pull off the victory tonight!



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!


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.

Bama: Now here’s my favorite bombshell of them all: “Spoiled” Summer Page! And by God Todd, I wish she’d spoil me!

Todd: Summer doesn’t spoil people, Bama- she gets spoiled! But I’m not sure how Spoiled she is by this booking. She has to face off against two of the most X-TREME wrestlers to ever step into an XWF ring!

Bama: If there’s anyone who can tame a beast, it’s Summer Page! I have no doubt in my mind that she can walk away from this match victorious!



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!

[Image: wireline.png]

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!

[Image: wireline.png]



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!




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. He then proceeds to get to a neutral corner and wait for the contest to begin.

Todd: A very dramatic entrance for Anarchy’s own resident vampire, Kristoffer Arroyo! He seems more than ready for this acting challenge- but I have to ask myself…shouldn’t he be offended by this mockery of a match-up?

Bama: Offended?! What are you talking about, Todd? Acts Like A Vampire Clown is one of the best vampire actors in the entire Clowniverse, Arroyo should be grateful for the chance to compete against him in front of the one and only SIR Lionel Pennyfarthing!

Todd: Well…if you say so, Bama!

Sir Lionel paces the ring, not in the traditional black and white stripes of a wrestling official, but instead a beret and suspenders, like someone cast as a movie director in a film that takes places in the 1940s!

The bell rings!



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!


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!


[Image: wireline.png]

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]
[Image: wireline.png]




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!



“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 looks ready to get down to business tonight!

Bama: And we shouldn’t deny her any longer!


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]
[Image: wireline.png]

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.”

[Image: wireline.png]




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!




GKspI0C

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]]]>

[Image: imgbbbcent.webp]


ANTLANTIC CITY, NEW JERSEY







MR. OZ
- vs -
REGGIE ESTRADA
- vs -
SUMMER PAGE

X-TREME RULEZ TRIPLE THREAT!




[Image: wireline.png]



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!





[Image: wireline.png]


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




[Image: wireline.png]





GKspI0C

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!”

[Image: wireline.png]




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: Mr. Oz makes his way to the ring! Fresh off a hellacious February, Oz has taken on anyone and everyone who dared step between those ropes!

Bama: And tonight, Todd- he has the chance to do it again! Facing two of the fiercest competitors Anarchy has to offer, Mr. Oz will have to tap into his killer instincts if we wants to pull off the victory tonight!



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!


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.

Bama: Now here’s my favorite bombshell of them all: “Spoiled” Summer Page! And by God Todd, I wish she’d spoil me!

Todd: Summer doesn’t spoil people, Bama- she gets spoiled! But I’m not sure how Spoiled she is by this booking. She has to face off against two of the most X-TREME wrestlers to ever step into an XWF ring!

Bama: If there’s anyone who can tame a beast, it’s Summer Page! I have no doubt in my mind that she can walk away from this match victorious!



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!

[Image: wireline.png]

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!

[Image: wireline.png]



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!




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. He then proceeds to get to a neutral corner and wait for the contest to begin.

Todd: A very dramatic entrance for Anarchy’s own resident vampire, Kristoffer Arroyo! He seems more than ready for this acting challenge- but I have to ask myself…shouldn’t he be offended by this mockery of a match-up?

Bama: Offended?! What are you talking about, Todd? Acts Like A Vampire Clown is one of the best vampire actors in the entire Clowniverse, Arroyo should be grateful for the chance to compete against him in front of the one and only SIR Lionel Pennyfarthing!

Todd: Well…if you say so, Bama!

Sir Lionel paces the ring, not in the traditional black and white stripes of a wrestling official, but instead a beret and suspenders, like someone cast as a movie director in a film that takes places in the 1940s!

The bell rings!



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!


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!


[Image: wireline.png]

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]
[Image: wireline.png]




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!



“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 looks ready to get down to business tonight!

Bama: And we shouldn’t deny her any longer!


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]
[Image: wireline.png]

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.”

[Image: wireline.png]




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!




GKspI0C

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]]]> <![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!



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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!




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SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
MISS FURRY
- vs -
JOHN BLADE

X-TREME RULES TRIPLE THREAT!



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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!



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GKspI0C

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.

[Image: wireline.png]



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!



[Image: wireline.png]


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…

[Image: wireline.png]

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!



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 is one of the most dominant stars in all of Anarchy! An incredible singles record, one of the most talented people to ever wrestle on Thursday nights!

BAMA: No doubt, Toddrick! Summer is pure technical excellence! But she’s got a real opponent tonight! Someone who’s traveled the world over and wrestled on every continent! Can she get the job done?

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 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!

[Image: wireline.png]




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.

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.

Bama T: The Anarchy Champion is in the building! The one, the only, the alleged: MICHEAL GRAVES!

Todd: No, you’re got it wrong Bama! This isn’t allegedly Micheal Graves, this is the real deal!

Bama T: Oh no, I’m talking about all the OTHER THINGS that have been alleged of Micheal Graves!

Todd: Oh, you mean like the crimes?

Bama T: Exactly! I think Gravy has racked up charges in almost every county in America! And tonight…he might just pick up a murder charge!



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!



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!




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.



[Image: wireline.png]



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!

[Image: inR-bv.gif]


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!


[Image: wireline.png]

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!





GKspI0C

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



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





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!



[Image: wireline.png]


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!




[Image: wireline.png]



SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
MISS FURRY
- vs -
JOHN BLADE

X-TREME RULES TRIPLE THREAT!



[Image: wireline.png]



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!



[Image: wireline.png]





GKspI0C

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.

[Image: wireline.png]



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!



[Image: wireline.png]


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…

[Image: wireline.png]

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!



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 is one of the most dominant stars in all of Anarchy! An incredible singles record, one of the most talented people to ever wrestle on Thursday nights!

BAMA: No doubt, Toddrick! Summer is pure technical excellence! But she’s got a real opponent tonight! Someone who’s traveled the world over and wrestled on every continent! Can she get the job done?

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 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!

[Image: wireline.png]




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.

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.

Bama T: The Anarchy Champion is in the building! The one, the only, the alleged: MICHEAL GRAVES!

Todd: No, you’re got it wrong Bama! This isn’t allegedly Micheal Graves, this is the real deal!

Bama T: Oh no, I’m talking about all the OTHER THINGS that have been alleged of Micheal Graves!

Todd: Oh, you mean like the crimes?

Bama T: Exactly! I think Gravy has racked up charges in almost every county in America! And tonight…he might just pick up a murder charge!



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!



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!




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.



[Image: wireline.png]



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!

[Image: inR-bv.gif]


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!


[Image: wireline.png]

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!





GKspI0C

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



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!
]]> <![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!



[Image: wireline.png]


MR. OZ
- vs -
SCHADENFREUDE CLOWN

SINGLES MATCH!



[Image: wireline.png]



MR. OZ
- vs -
MISS FURY

SINGLES MATCH!



[Image: wireline.png]


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



[Image: wireline.png]



CENTURION
- vs -
BOBBY SALES

OVER THE TOP ROPE MATCH!



[Image: wireline.png]



ABEL GRACIE
- vs -
XXXVI ©

X-TREME RULEZ!



[Image: wireline.png]





GKspI0C

GKspI0C


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]

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!



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


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!
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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!



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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!

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.

…





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.

TODD: Micheal Graves! He’s had a long XWF career spanning across multiple brands… but I don’t know if he’s ever looked more dominant than right now! This is his first Anarchy title reign!

BAMA: Toddrick, you got a head injury? Micheal Graves had the Anarchy Title just last year! For a whole year!

TODD: I won’t have this discussion with you again, Bama, that was obviously Mark Flynn dressed like Micheal Graves… THIS is Micheal Graves! But he’s looking… not focused! Not at all! But even more dangerous! Unpredictable in a way that means his opponent could get struck down in an instant!

BAMA: I can’t argue there, Todd. Hixx may be the Storm, but Graves is a force of NATURE!

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.

He reaches the ring. Stops. Looks around. Then he slides in under the ropes, stands up slow just as the song hits—

♪ IT'S YOUR FUCKIN' NIGHTMARE ♪

Graves backs into his corner, sliding his cape off his shoulders tossing it aside.

He cracks his neck once and stares across the ring as the music fades.

…



The 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.

TODD: And there he is! The former Anarchy champion, Kristoffer Arroyo! The VAMP!

BAMA: Vamp had been virtually unstoppable! Until… y’know… Graves stopped him!

TODD: He’d been unmatched! Taking on big names like Clutch Cassidy and Betsy Granger and each time coming away with the win! Now, he’s sharing the ring with Graves! And you’ve gotta wonder… Is he thinking about how to beat his opponents right now? Or how to sink his teeth into Graves while the champ’s back is turned…

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 get to a neutral corner and wait for the contest to begin.

…


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!



[Image: wireline.png]


MR. OZ
- vs -
SCHADENFREUDE CLOWN

SINGLES MATCH!



[Image: wireline.png]



MR. OZ
- vs -
MISS FURY

SINGLES MATCH!



[Image: wireline.png]


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



[Image: wireline.png]



CENTURION
- vs -
BOBBY SALES

OVER THE TOP ROPE MATCH!



[Image: wireline.png]



ABEL GRACIE
- vs -
XXXVI ©

X-TREME RULEZ!



[Image: wireline.png]





GKspI0C

GKspI0C


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]

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!



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


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!

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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!



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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!

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.

…





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.

TODD: Micheal Graves! He’s had a long XWF career spanning across multiple brands… but I don’t know if he’s ever looked more dominant than right now! This is his first Anarchy title reign!

BAMA: Toddrick, you got a head injury? Micheal Graves had the Anarchy Title just last year! For a whole year!

TODD: I won’t have this discussion with you again, Bama, that was obviously Mark Flynn dressed like Micheal Graves… THIS is Micheal Graves! But he’s looking… not focused! Not at all! But even more dangerous! Unpredictable in a way that means his opponent could get struck down in an instant!

BAMA: I can’t argue there, Todd. Hixx may be the Storm, but Graves is a force of NATURE!

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.

He reaches the ring. Stops. Looks around. Then he slides in under the ropes, stands up slow just as the song hits—

♪ IT'S YOUR FUCKIN' NIGHTMARE ♪

Graves backs into his corner, sliding his cape off his shoulders tossing it aside.

He cracks his neck once and stares across the ring as the music fades.

…



The 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.

TODD: And there he is! The former Anarchy champion, Kristoffer Arroyo! The VAMP!

BAMA: Vamp had been virtually unstoppable! Until… y’know… Graves stopped him!

TODD: He’d been unmatched! Taking on big names like Clutch Cassidy and Betsy Granger and each time coming away with the win! Now, he’s sharing the ring with Graves! And you’ve gotta wonder… Is he thinking about how to beat his opponents right now? Or how to sink his teeth into Graves while the champ’s back is turned…

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 get to a neutral corner and wait for the contest to begin.

…


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!

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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!

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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!

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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!
]]> <![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
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1 - 08 - 2026

LIVE FROM THE CRISLER CENTER!

ANN ARBOR, MICHIGAN





SIR LIONEL PENNYFARTHING
- vs -
SAFARI STU

SINGLES MATCH!



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GKspI0C

MR. OZ
- vs -
XXXVI ©

BEST OF THREE!

Match 1 will be an X-TREME RULEZ match! The Revolution Championship will be on the line!



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ABEL GRACIE
- vs -
WICKED WITCH

SINGLES MATCH!



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CENTURION
- vs -
ENNUI CLOWN

CIRCUS LUMBERJACK MATCH!

10 circus clowns will be surrounding the ring, acting as lumberjacks with 100% loyalty to Ennui Clown!




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GKspI0C

MR. OZ
- vs -
XXXVI ©

BEST OF THREE!

Match 2 will be a TABLES match! The Revolution Championship will be on the line!



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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!!!


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GKspI0C

MR. OZ
- vs -
XXXVI ©

BEST OF THREE!

If needed, match 3 will be a SUBMISSION match! The Revolution Championship will be on the line!



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GKspI0C

SM7quQ3

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!



[Image: wireline.png]

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….



[Image: wireline.png]



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.


[Image: wireline.png]


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!



GKspI0C

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.


[Image: wireline.png]


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


"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 made impressive work of Safari Stu in his Anarchy debut, Bama!

BAMA: This guy gives me the creeps! He claims all the answers to life’s mysteries can be found through pain… But his second match, he’s facing an absolute question mark! Is pain gonna answer a problem like the Wicked Witch of Wrestling?!?

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 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.


[Image: wireline.png]


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.


[Image: wireline.png]


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.


[Image: wireline.png]


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!



GKspI0C

MR. OZ
- vs -
XXXVI ©

BEST OF THREE!

Match 2 will be a TABLES match! The Revolution Championship will be on the line!




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!


[Image: wireline.png]





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!"


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 doesn’t even get the chance to reply before Gravy explodes, lunging forward as he spears Kris so hard his pink shades fly into the front row!

BAMA T: "The time for talkin's over, baby! Graves is unleashing some ruthless aggression!"

The turnbuckles rattle as they crash into the corner and Graves unloads a flurry of rights and lefts straight to the face.

Kris fires back with a vicious thumb to the eyehole of Graves' mask.

TODD: "The champ's fighting back with some ruthless aggression of his own!"

Graves staggers back!

Kris explodes out of the corner with a knee lift!

Graves doubles over and staggers as Kris grabs him by his hair and lands a headbut square to his masked forehead!

—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.



[Image: wireline.png]

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.




GKspI0C

SM7quQ3

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!



[Image: wireline.png]


GKspI0C

MR. OZ
- vs -
XXXVI ©

BEST OF THREE!

Match 1 will be an X-TREME RULEZ match! The Revolution Championship will be on the line!



[Image: wireline.png]



ABEL GRACIE
- vs -
WICKED WITCH

SINGLES MATCH!



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CENTURION
- vs -
ENNUI CLOWN

CIRCUS LUMBERJACK MATCH!

10 circus clowns will be surrounding the ring, acting as lumberjacks with 100% loyalty to Ennui Clown!




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GKspI0C

MR. OZ
- vs -
XXXVI ©

BEST OF THREE!

Match 2 will be a TABLES match! The Revolution Championship will be on the line!



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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!!!


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GKspI0C

MR. OZ
- vs -
XXXVI ©

BEST OF THREE!

If needed, match 3 will be a SUBMISSION match! The Revolution Championship will be on the line!



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GKspI0C

SM7quQ3

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!



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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….



[Image: wireline.png]



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.


[Image: wireline.png]


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!



GKspI0C

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.


[Image: wireline.png]


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


"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 made impressive work of Safari Stu in his Anarchy debut, Bama!

BAMA: This guy gives me the creeps! He claims all the answers to life’s mysteries can be found through pain… But his second match, he’s facing an absolute question mark! Is pain gonna answer a problem like the Wicked Witch of Wrestling?!?

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 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.


[Image: wireline.png]


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.


[Image: wireline.png]


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.


[Image: wireline.png]


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!



GKspI0C

MR. OZ
- vs -
XXXVI ©

BEST OF THREE!

Match 2 will be a TABLES match! The Revolution Championship will be on the line!




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!


[Image: wireline.png]





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!"


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 doesn’t even get the chance to reply before Gravy explodes, lunging forward as he spears Kris so hard his pink shades fly into the front row!

BAMA T: "The time for talkin's over, baby! Graves is unleashing some ruthless aggression!"

The turnbuckles rattle as they crash into the corner and Graves unloads a flurry of rights and lefts straight to the face.

Kris fires back with a vicious thumb to the eyehole of Graves' mask.

TODD: "The champ's fighting back with some ruthless aggression of his own!"

Graves staggers back!

Kris explodes out of the corner with a knee lift!

Graves doubles over and staggers as Kris grabs him by his hair and lands a headbut square to his masked forehead!

—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.



[Image: wireline.png]

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.




GKspI0C

SM7quQ3

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!
]]> <![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



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Mr. Oz
- vs -
Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing

TABLES MATCH



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SAFARI STU
- vs -
ABEL GRACIE

SINGLES MATCH




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LEVI CARWIN
- vs -
RAZOR BLADE

X-TREME RULEZ




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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!




[Image: wireline.png]



MR. OZ
- vs -
‘ASSUREDLY’ MICHEAL GRAVES


LAST MAN STANDING

The winner will become the #1 Contender to the Anarchy Championship!


[Image: wireline.png]





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."





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.

BAMA: Oz here for his third and final match of the evening, he’s been in terrific form all night but he may be up against his biggest challenge in the form of THE DARK WARRIOR!

TODD: Bama, I’m receiving word from the back that Oz is choosing NOT to defend the X title against Gravy in this match!

BAMA: Well, of course! He’s already defended it twice tonight, there’s no need to do it three times! That would just be a distraction for Oz as he competes for the #1 contendership to Big Blue!



The lights drop.

Then the XTron flickers to life with the words:




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






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.


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



[Image: wireline.png]



Mr. Oz
- vs -
Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing

TABLES MATCH



[Image: wireline.png]



SAFARI STU
- vs -
ABEL GRACIE

SINGLES MATCH




[Image: wireline.png]



LEVI CARWIN
- vs -
RAZOR BLADE

X-TREME RULEZ




[Image: wireline.png]




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!




[Image: wireline.png]



MR. OZ
- vs -
‘ASSUREDLY’ MICHEAL GRAVES


LAST MAN STANDING

The winner will become the #1 Contender to the Anarchy Championship!


[Image: wireline.png]





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."





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.

BAMA: Oz here for his third and final match of the evening, he’s been in terrific form all night but he may be up against his biggest challenge in the form of THE DARK WARRIOR!

TODD: Bama, I’m receiving word from the back that Oz is choosing NOT to defend the X title against Gravy in this match!

BAMA: Well, of course! He’s already defended it twice tonight, there’s no need to do it three times! That would just be a distraction for Oz as he competes for the #1 contendership to Big Blue!



The lights drop.

Then the XTron flickers to life with the words:




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






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.


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!
]]> <![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!



[Image: wireline.png]



JOHN BLACK
- vs -
MARISOL VILARO
- vs -
EL LANDERSON
- vs -
YA'LL KNOW WHO

FATAL FOURWAY!



[Image: wireline.png]



CELESTINE GALE
- vs -
SCHISM

TABLE'S MATCH!




[Image: wireline.png]



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!




[Image: wireline.png]




LARRY TACT
- vs -
BETSY GRANGER

FALLS COUNT ANYWHERE!



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SCOOPS MCGEE
- vs -
CLUTCH CASSIDY

AUTO SHOP BRAWL! KO YOUR OPPONENT TO WIN!



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Atara Raven©
- vs -
Centurion


Non-Title X-treme Rulez!


[Image: wireline.png]






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!




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 Opponent to arrive.




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.





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.





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!




[Image: wireline.png]


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!


[Image: wireline.png]


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.




[Image: wireline.png]


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!



[Image: wireline.png]




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.



"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!



[Image: wireline.png]

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!



[Image: wireline.png]




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!




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 her championship belt held over her head. 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.

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 with her championship belt, hips pulsing, head thrown back as lasers explode and the music distorts into and fades away.

TODD: And here comes the ALPHA PUSSY herself, the one and only ANARCHY CHAMPION…..ATARA RAVEN!

BAMA T: God damn, Todd- she’s so good lookin’ she’s even got me crying out ‘OPA’!

TODD: But a man like Centurion won’t be distracted by something as shallow as his opponent’s looks! He never has been before! So the Alpha Pussy slash Champion will have to dig deep into her bag of tricks tonight if she wants to get her lick back against the Grandfather of Anarchy!




Atara Raven©
- vs -
Centurion


Non-Title X-treme Rulez!




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!


[Image: wireline.png]






XXXVI ©
- vs -
'SPOILED' SUMMER PAGE

REVOLUTION CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH!

PURE RULES MATCH!




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.










XXXVI ©

-
vs
-


'SPOILED' SUMMER PAGE


REVOLUTION CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH!

SUMMER PAGE’S PICK - PURE RULES MATCH!





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!
]]>

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!



[Image: wireline.png]



JOHN BLACK
- vs -
MARISOL VILARO
- vs -
EL LANDERSON
- vs -
YA'LL KNOW WHO

FATAL FOURWAY!



[Image: wireline.png]



CELESTINE GALE
- vs -
SCHISM

TABLE'S MATCH!




[Image: wireline.png]



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!




[Image: wireline.png]




LARRY TACT
- vs -
BETSY GRANGER

FALLS COUNT ANYWHERE!



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SCOOPS MCGEE
- vs -
CLUTCH CASSIDY

AUTO SHOP BRAWL! KO YOUR OPPONENT TO WIN!



[Image: wireline.png]




Atara Raven©
- vs -
Centurion


Non-Title X-treme Rulez!


[Image: wireline.png]






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!




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 Opponent to arrive.




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.





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.





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!




[Image: wireline.png]


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!


[Image: wireline.png]


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.




[Image: wireline.png]


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!



[Image: wireline.png]




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.



"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!



[Image: wireline.png]

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!



[Image: wireline.png]




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!




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 her championship belt held over her head. 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.

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 with her championship belt, hips pulsing, head thrown back as lasers explode and the music distorts into and fades away.

TODD: And here comes the ALPHA PUSSY herself, the one and only ANARCHY CHAMPION…..ATARA RAVEN!

BAMA T: God damn, Todd- she’s so good lookin’ she’s even got me crying out ‘OPA’!

TODD: But a man like Centurion won’t be distracted by something as shallow as his opponent’s looks! He never has been before! So the Alpha Pussy slash Champion will have to dig deep into her bag of tricks tonight if she wants to get her lick back against the Grandfather of Anarchy!




Atara Raven©
- vs -
Centurion


Non-Title X-treme Rulez!




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!


[Image: wireline.png]






XXXVI ©
- vs -
'SPOILED' SUMMER PAGE

REVOLUTION CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH!

PURE RULES MATCH!




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.










XXXVI ©

-
vs
-


'SPOILED' SUMMER PAGE


REVOLUTION CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH!

SUMMER PAGE’S PICK - PURE RULES MATCH!





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!
]]> <![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.





[Image: wireline.png]



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!



[Image: wireline.png]




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!




[Image: wireline.png]




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!




[Image: wireline.png]





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!





[Image: wireline.png]





GKspI0C

SM7quQ3

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]

[Image: m5upPba.png]

"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!




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.





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!





[Image: wireline.png]

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.


[Image: wireline.png]



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!



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.


[Image: wireline.png]

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.....

[Image: uGGo4KA.jpeg]


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!"


[Image: wireline.png]


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.


[Image: wireline.png]





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!




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!



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!





[Image: wireline.png]




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. He then proceeds to get to a neutral corner and wait for the contest to begin.



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!




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!




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!

[Image: LHpemMv.jpeg]


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][Image: wireline.png][/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.




[Image: wireline.png]


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.



[Image: wireline.png]

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.



GKspI0C

SM7quQ3

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!


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




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.





[Image: wireline.png]



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!



[Image: wireline.png]




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!




[Image: wireline.png]




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!




[Image: wireline.png]





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!





[Image: wireline.png]





GKspI0C

SM7quQ3

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]

[Image: m5upPba.png]

"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!




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.





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!





[Image: wireline.png]

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.


[Image: wireline.png]



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!



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.


[Image: wireline.png]

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.....

[Image: uGGo4KA.jpeg]


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!"


[Image: wireline.png]


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.


[Image: wireline.png]





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!




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!



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!





[Image: wireline.png]




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. He then proceeds to get to a neutral corner and wait for the contest to begin.



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!




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!




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!

[Image: LHpemMv.jpeg]


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][Image: wireline.png][/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.




[Image: wireline.png]


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.



[Image: wireline.png]

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.



GKspI0C

SM7quQ3

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!


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]]]> <![CDATA[ANARCHY - 10/9/25]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=49377 Fri, 10 Oct 2025 10:34:35 -0700 'Big' Dick Lichter]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=49377



XWF Anarchy
[Image: vuE1ZV0.png]
10 - 09 - 2025


LIVE FROM THE FREEMAN COLISEUM!

SAN ANTONIO, TEXAS










LIAM ROBERTS

- vs -

RAZOR BLADE



X-TREME RULEZ!









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BARNEY GREEN

- vs -

MR. OZ



OLD SCHOOL RULEZ!







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LARRY TACT

- vs -

TOMMY WISH



FALLS COUNT ANYWHERE!









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KIERAN KING ©

- vs -

BETSY GRANGER



DA KING'S NON-TITLE RULEZ!







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XXXVI © & CLUTCH CASSIDY

- vs -

SUMMER PAGE & KRISTOFFER 'VAMP' ARROYO





CLASSIC TAG RULEZ!

2 RPs per Team @ 1K only





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ATARA RAVEN

- vs -

'PSYCHO' SOLOMON



ANARCHY TITLE MATCH!







Behold the drummers.



Behold the marching feet of the XWF Security Team.



The troops wear masks. Their armour—more heavily clad than even just days ago on Warfare.



They have upgraded. Bigger, nastier, and with the company logo even smaller on their back.



The crown dominates their uniform.



And soon, it dominates the Freeman Coliseum as “The Gentle Art of Making Enemies” by Faith No More rips around the arena.



Between the crown and the Universal Championship, Kieran King is covered in gold as he strides towards the ring, sans his usual fanfare with a grumpy determination replacing it instead.



King Kieran: Ladies and gentlemen… it seems there has been a little bit of fake news floating about as pertains to who holds the true power in the XWF. We are living in a post-Thaddeus Duke world… We are living in a world where I *personally* put an end to Dolly Waters's dreams of ‘people power’...



He says that with a mocking inflection.



King Kieran: Theo Pryce isn't coming back and Vinnie Lane… well he's the one responsible for the situation we're now in, isn't he? Vinnie Lane sold a controlling share of the XWF to three people whose combined wealth is the greatest pot of gold this world has ever seen. But as you saw on Warfare and you now see around the ring…



He points to his personal army.



King Kieran: There are some things that money can buy. There are limits to that wealth can wield. Because money isn't power… knowledge isn't power… Cersei Lannister may have had horrible taste in men but she was right about one thing… POWER IS POWER!!! And when it comes to the XWF, I alone hold the balance of all power! I… YOUR MONARCH… YOUR CHAMPION… YOUR KING OF THE UNIVERSE!!!



He breathes. It looks more like a seethe.



King Kieran: Let me be crystal fucking clear so that even the lizard people trying to run this joint can understand… there is not a blade of grass that can blow in the wind without me saying so. On this world, or in any other.

I'm the King of the whole bloody Universe, not just Earth.

Mars? Mine.

Venus? Mine.

Jupiter? Mine.

Hoth? Mine.

Tatooine? Mine.

Arrakis? Mine.

Krypton? Mine.

Uranus? Mine.



He points to a guy in the front row.



King Kieran: His anus? Mine.



And to a woman near the man.



King Kieran: Her anus? Mine.

All your asses belong to me! Everything, from here to the edge of existence itself, is under the sole domain of THE GREATEST WRESTLER ALIVE.

Tonight, I start with Betsy Granger… a demonstration of sorts that Anarchy is as important a part of my kingdom as Warfare is.

But next month… YOUR KING goes to war.

These Trillionaires don't seem to understand just who the fuck I am.

I don't just wrestle for a living, I make history for a living! Back-to-back King of the XWF reigns… history! Fifteen years between Universal Championships… history! Uniting the crown and the title… history! Undefeated for SEVENTEEN MONTHS AND COUNTING… history!

And inside of War Games, I'll just have to go ahead and make history again. Because who the fuck could possibly stop me from walking in to defend against the ENTIRE GODDAMN COMPANY and walking out again STILL the KING OF THE UNIVERSE.



Kieran stands, arms stretched in all his glory, the Universal Championship and the King of the XWF crown  firmly united… for now.





[Image: wireline.png]








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.



TODD: And here comes THE American Nightmare!



BAMA T: Razor Blade pledged to unleash great violence here in San Antonia tonight- and from the look on his face, I think he meant it!



TODD: Well Bama’, when you let a guy called RAZOR BLADE star in an X-treme Rulez match to open the show….you know you’re in for a bloody good time!











Liam Roberts’ music blares through the PA system as Liam hits the stage. Liam extends his arms out, ala-Jesus, as he walks towards the ring. When he nears the ring, he slides under the ropes and prepares for battle!



TODD: Liam Roberts! A long-time veteran of XWF Anarchy, Liam came back at Relentless to participate in the battle royale on night 1! It may not have gone his way, but Liam definitely left his mark and reminded everyone exactly who he is!



BAMA T: Liam doesn’t always win, but he always leaves a bloody taste in his opponent’s mouth! This should be a great opening bout!









LIAM ROBERTS

- vs -

RAZOR BLADE



X-TREME RULEZ!





Liam and Razor exchange blows at the beginning of the match. Razor Blade quickly gets the advantage, delivering heavy haymaker after heavy haymaker! Liam Roberts tries to scurry away, using his speed to his advantage. Razor chases after Liam, but Roberts ducks under the bottom ropes and outside the ring!

Never one to be deterred, Razor slides out of the ring after Liam, trying to spear him into the barricade!



But Liam dodges it just in time, causing Razor’s shoulder to crash right into the barrier!



Liam laughs to himself as Razor Blade clutches his shoulder in pain. Never one to waste an opportunity, Liam immediately begins digging under the ring for some devious weaponry. After a few seconds of fumbling around beneath the ring, Liam eventually pulls out a barbed wire wrapped steel chair! Liam slams the chair against the ringside apron a few times, testing it’s mettle. Once he’s satisfied with his new weapon, Liam turns around to go find Razor Blade and beat him with it!



TODD: Liam Roberts has bad intentions, I can just sense it! He’s looking to rearrange Razor’s face with that barbed wire wrapped chair!



BAMA: Well DUH, Todd! It’s an X-treme Rulez match, and Liam is as X-treme as they come!



Liam Roberts heads back to Razor with the chair in hand, and a sick grin plastered to his smarmy face.



Liam lifts the chair high into the air-



But before he can bring it crashing down, Razor interrupts him with a kick to the gut!



Liam drops the chair as he doubles over in pain!



Razor Blade grabs Liam by the neck, delivering a DDT right onto the chair! Liam’s face immediately explodes into a bloody mess!



BAMA T: Well damn, Todd! That didn’t go the way that Liam thought it would!



After Razor Blade throws Liam Roberts back into the ring, the match becomes a completely one-sided affair. Liam’s face leaks across the entire ring as Razor delivers body drop after suplex after clothesline after body slam. Liam Roberts crawls to the ropes and tries to get a ‘rope break’, but the referee reminds him this is X-treme Rulez, and Razor Blade can do whatever he wants to do in this match!



Razor Blade grabs Liam Roberts by his blood-red hair, dragging him over towards the center of the ring before bringing him back to the mat with a snap powerslam!



Razor patiently waits for Liam to arise once more, then he grabs Liam underneath their head and flips them over with his finishing move, a Blade Rose!



The referee counts the pin!





1!









2!!









3!!!





Winner by Pinfall – Razor Blade












[Image: wireline.png]












TODD: You think Ozzie’s got a point to prove tonight, Bama?



BAMA: Well, I think the better question is, why wouldn’t he, baby? He came up short in Relentless for them Anarchy Tag Titles, and that’d piss off just about anyone on the roster!



TODD: And folks, a lot of people will tell you right away, an angry Mister Oz is a focused Mister Oz. And a focused Mister Oz could spell trouble tonight.



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.















"Realize" By AC/DC starts to play as the fans start cheering. Out walks Barney Green, dressed in his ring gear. He slowly walks out and waves at the fans. He walks down to the ring and enters it. He waits in the corner as his music fades.



TODD: Raucous applause here tonight for Barney Green! And it’s hard to blame them, he’s a living legend of this sport and in XWF history! He looks set to try and continue his comeback tour here tonight!



BAMA: Good luck tryin’ to get past Mister Oz, though. Man looks so hungry he’d probably devour a pack of raw meat like a shark. Gives me the creeps, baby…



TODD: Old school rules here tonight, folks, which means anything can happen. No disqualifications, no count outs!



BAMA: No mercy?



TODD: Sure sounds about right…







BARNEY GREEN

- vs -

MR. OZ



OLD SCHOOL RULEZ!







DING! DING! DING!



TODD: And we’re off! Folks, don’t expect a match that’s pretty, don’t expect a technical masterclass! This is going to be a brawl, a fight, pure and simple here!



BAMA: Both these boys are chompin’ at the bit to get to each other! I can’t wait!



It’s Oz who comes out of his corner first, charging ahead at Barney with a full head of steam! A stiff clothesline comes out, and Barney gets sent right into the corner from it as he lands hard!



Oz is already on top of him as he mauls him like an animal! Right hands, left hands! Upstairs! Downstairs! Barney is having to cover up against this manic onslaught!



But he quickly fires back with a sharp HEADBUTT! It lands right between the eyes as Oz has to stagger back from the impact, allowing Green to come charging back with a big clubbing forearm right to the noggin!



That move only perks Oz up, though! He straights as he glares at Barney, before taking him by the hair and throwing him right out of the ring! Barney takes a tumble to the outside, but he’s quickly back on his feet as he walks around to try and regroup…



BUT OZ DIVES OUT OF THE RING WITH A HUGE CROSSBODY!



BAMA: Hot damn, baby! Oz rarely gets the chance, but he loves showin’ off that speed and agility whenever he can!



TODD: These two didn’t take long to let the action spill to the outside, folks. Barely any rules in this match here, and they can’t wait to make use of that fact. The only thing stopping these two is going to be their own imagination.



The two quickly come back to their feet, and they don’t waste time throwing more punches. Barney manages to get some more space growing between the two as he shoves Oz back, sending him right back into the barricade! Oz looks to charge back in…







CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!







BUT BARNEY MANAGES TO REACH UNDERNEATH THE RING AND PULL OUT A LIGHTTUBE IN TIME! GLASS SHARDS GO FLYING AS A CLOUD OF SMOKE HANGS IN THE AIR!



TODD: Bama! You wanna talk about speed, Barney just pulled that lighttube out faster than either of us can blink!



BAMA: Look at Ozzie! It’s a miracle he’s even standin’, baby!



Oz is standing, but he’s on clear spaghetti legs after that hard shot to the dome! Green curses as he pulls himself to his feet, before taking the lighttube by the other end and CRACKING it right across Oz’s face again!



AND THIS TIME IT DROPS HIM!



THE FANS ARE POPPING LIKE CRAZY!



Barney grits his teeth as he looks under the ring again! And what he pulls out this time only gets the fans more pumped as they realize what’s coming!



A TABLE!



TODD: I can sense only evil intentions with that table, Bama…



BAMA: Both these guys are some heavy boys, baby! Imagine all that weight crashing down through hard wood? It might be an early end to the contest here!



Barney drags the table over onto the other side of the arena, propping it right up against the metal guardrail! He grins and nods, satisfied with his work as he brings himself right back to Mister Oz who’s getting up!



IRISH WHIP TO OZ!



OZ GOES SAILING RIGHT TOWARDS THE TABLE!



BUT HE MANAGES TO PLANT HIS FEET AND STOP ON A DIME JUST IN TIME!



OZ TURNS HIS HEAD TO SEE BARNEY CHARGING AT HIM FROM BEHIND THOUGH! BIG ELBOW TO THE SKULL CUTS HIM OFF!



TODD: Sharp instincts from Oz there, easy to forget with Barney in the match, but Oz is quite the crafty veteran himself!



BAMA: How’s he gonna be able to follow up, though?



Oz grunts as he sees Barney blinking out the cobwebs, before he moves right in! He scoops Barney up and hoists him with everything he’s got! The fans go CRAZY at the freakish display of strength!



DOUBLE A SPINEBUSTER-



BARNEY REVERSES INTO A GUILLOTINE CHOKE! HE LOCKS HIS LIMBS AROUND OZ’S BODY AS HE TRIES TO CHOKE THE LIFE OUT OF HIM!



BAMA: Did you know Barney had this type of thing up his sleeve, Todd?



TODD: No way! But Barney’s sure as Hell putting it to good use! Trying to sap the big man of his strength, trying to give himself an edge in this contest… he could use this to put Oz through the table right now.



Tank is going beet red in the face! Sweat drips down his body as he sinks to a knee, and Barney seizes his chance as he goes back on his feet!



HE HOISTS OZ UP!



BELLY-TO-BELLY SUPLEX-



DESPERATION EYE RAKE FROM OZ CUTS BARNEY OFF! AND INSTEAD, HE GOES BEHIND HIM-



GERMAN! SUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUPLEX! BARNEY GOES FLYING ACROSS THE RINGSIDE AREA, BUT TANK MAINTAINS WAIST CONTROL AS HE BRINGS HIM UP!



BAMA: Somethin’ tells me I think we know what’s comin’ next…



TODD: It’s hard to put into words just how insane this level of strength is, folks. Barney Green, always a heavy competitor, a stocky 247 lbs in a small, 5’10 frame. Lifting him up once would be an achievement, but Oz managing to lift him up SIX times for his Sextuple German Suplex?! He’s a machine!



BAMA: Ain’t no Green Machine, that’s for sure, baby!



Oz hoists up Barney again, and Barney tries to fight out! A series of elbows clobbers Oz in the face, but he has to shrug it off!



A SECOND GERMAN SUPLEX!



They come up again! More elbows to try and throw Tank off! But Tank continues!



Three! Four! Five!



Barney’s sluggish now, but Oz sees his opportunity! He moves right towards the table and launches Barney one more time!



SIXTH GERMAN SUPLEX RIGHT THROUGH THE TABLE AND THE BARRICADE!



BARNEY GETS CRUSHED!



TODD: Is he even moving?!



BAMA: No idea! We gotta get some EMTs out here!



Ringside doctors quickly flock their way down to the dilapidated barricade where Barney lays to check on him! Oz snarls at the group before he starts shoving them aside! He’s making his way to Barney!



Oz pulls Barney up by the hair and forces him inside while ignoring the doctors! He rolls in after him, and goes for a cover as the ref is forced to count!



ONE!









TWO!









KICKOUT?!



BAMA: How in the blue Hell did this man kick out?!



TODD: Your guess is as good as mine, Bama! I don’t think anyone in this arena can believe it!



Oz slowly rises from his cover, loudly swearing as he does so. He turns his attention to the referee, a dark glance crossing his eyes. The ref holds his hands up, clearly not looking for a fight as the two rise to their feet.



Oz holds his fingers up, clearly disputing the count as the ref is arguing his side, telling him that Barney clearly managed to kick out in time. Oz doesn’t want to hear it, though…



AS BARNEY MANAGES TO PULL OZ AROUND INTO A DREAMMAKERRRRRRRRRRR!



BAMA: He’s alive! He’s back on his feet!



TODD: Oz is still standing after that Dreammaker, though! Both of them are on spaghetti legs right now!



BAMA: Look at Barney, though! He’s still got Oz by the wrist!



BARNEY LETS OUT A PRIMAL ROAR AS HE STRAIGHTENS HIMSELF BACK OUT!



AND LUNGES IN ONE MORE TIME FOR ANOTHER DREAMMAKERRRRRRRRRRRRR!



HE GOES FOR THE COVER!



ONLY TO WATCH AS OZ ROLLS OUT OF THE RING!



TODD: If that’s not a heartbreaking sight for any competitor in the ring, then I don’t know what is.



BAMA: Could be a chance for both of these guys to try and recover, though!



Green crawls after Oz, trying to make his way to the outside of the ring, trying to pull him back in and finish this match…



BUT OZ REACHES BACK INSIDE THE RING TO CLOBBER BARNEY’S SKULL



WITH



A



LADDER!



BARNEY FALLS ONTO HIS BACK AS OZ SLIDES INTO THE RING! BARNEY’S TRYING TO STIR, BUT TANK’S SETTING UP THE LADDER RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE RING!



TODD: We talked about evil intentions earlier, Bama… but a fall from that height could end careers if it goes poorly.



BAMA: If Barney wants to wake up to see tomorrow, he’s gotta get up! Right now!



Oswald starts climbing up the ladder as Barney Green is slow to stir! The crowd is on the edge of their seats as Oswald slowly ascends towards the heavens!

Barney finally pushes himself up to a standing position once Oswald reaches the ladder’s peak…



But when Barney looks up towards the stars, he just sees Oswald leaping off the ladder!



Diving Hurricanrana!



The entire ring shakes from the impact!



When Oswald lands atop Barney, the referee immediately counts the pin!



1!





2!!





3!!!



Winner by Pinfall – Mr. Oz




[Image: wireline.png]












"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.



TODD: Gotta imagine Tact’s wanting to make a statement win tonight. He had a very close match against Dickie Watson for the TV title, but couldn’t quite get the win out.



BAMA: Tact’s a hungry boy, and who can blame him? He’s got a chance to get himself righted right here, right now though. Gets me on the edge of my seat thinkin’ about these guys that’re gonna try to bring it against each other…



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.















It shows Tommy in the shadows in a corridor somewhere on the X-Tron in a hoodie, then it fades back into the arena where the lights flicker and the camera see's him coming down to the ring in his jacket hoodie, with him waving a Kendo Stick around him. Then he nods his head to the beat, and he gives some fans some dap as he walks down to the ramp, then he slides into the ring, and gets on the turnbuckle and poses to the crowd with the stick in the air. Then he comes down from there, and sits on the corner as his theme fades off.



TODD: Tommy Wish is no stranger to fighting uphill battles, he’ll be the first one to tell you that himself. Still, it’s rather amazing the level of perseverance he brings to the ring each and every night, isn’t it?



BAMA: Gonna need a lot more than perseverance if he wants to start rackin’ those wins up though, baby! He’s got some upset victories over the years though. Let’s see if we’re about to see another one of those tonight!







LARRY TACT

- vs -

TOMMY WISH



FALLS COUNT ANYWHERE!







DING! DING! DING!



TODD: And we’re off! Lots of risks coming with a Falls Count Anywhere match, but these two look ready to fight and they’re chomping at the bit to get to it!



BAMA: Tact’s lookin’ like he means business in the ring tonight, can Wish keep up?



The two competitors quickly lock-up in the middle of the ring, with Tact using his size and strength to bully the smaller yet chunkier Wish. Tact manages to press Wish against the ropes and tries for an Irish Whip, but it gets quickly reversed by Wish who sends Tact running instead!



Tact responds back with a running swinging neckbreaker though! Wish hits the ground hard, but Tact is already right on top of Wish! A big clubbing forearm to the back doubles him down, allowing Tact to scoop him up right on his shoulders!



Tact charges around the ring! RUNNING POWERSLAM-!



BUT WISH DUCKS OUT FROM BEHIND! HE RUNS AHEAD AND HITS A HUGE BULLDOG ON TACT!



TODD: Tommy Wish trying to give as good as he’s getting right now!



BAMA: He’s like a caged animal in there! Scrappy, almost a little desperate with how he’s kickin’ and squirmin’!



Wish quickly collects himself, stalking the ropes to try and figure out his next move, but Tact waits as Wish lets his guard down before he comes back to his feet and plants Wish with a huge CLOTHESLINE! Tommy Wish gets taken out of the ring and hits the outside mat hard!



Tact comes out to the outside, the referee following after as he comes straight to the downed Wish. Tact goes to pick him up, but Wish delivers a hard side elbow to Tact’s gut to stop him. Wish climbs back to his feet, looking for some well-placed punches, but Tact fires back with a strong European Uppercut to bring Wish backwards!



TACT LOOKS TO CHARGE AT WISH WHO’S LEANING AGAINST THE BARRICADE!



BUT TOMMY WISH MANAGES TO GET OVER THE BARRICADE IN TIME! Tact has to stop himself from crashing into the steel just in the nick of time!



TODD: Quick thinking by Wish to avoid impact there, but equally high ring IQ from Tact not to let himself meet the hard steel there!



BAMA: Wish ain’t gonna be able to escape the match that easily, though! It’s Falls Count Anywhere, after all!



TODD: I dunno if it’s a matter of Wish trying to get the Hell out of here, or just making a tactical retreat for the time being to collect himself…



Tact snarls at the retreating Wish, motioning for him to come back to ringside, but Wish walks along the stands as he wipes the sweat off of his brow! Tact scoffs, but he quickly follows after Wish! They’re taking the fight to the stands!



Tact looks to quickly close the distance to Wish, but Wish hears Tact coming! He grabs a nearby empty steel chair and proceeds to THROW IT RIGHT TOWARDS TACT!



CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!



It bounces right off of Tact’s head with a sickening thud as he staggers backwards, allowing Tommy to close in towards him! Boot to the gut- NO NO NO!



STIFF POWERBOMB RIGHT TO A NEARBY SET OF NEARBY CHAIRS! EACH OF THEM GETS DENTED AS TACT’S BODY BOUNCES OFF OF THEM!



BAMA: Holy shi-



TODD: Folks, that could cause some serious spinal damage for anyone who has to take that impact! Tommy Wish showing off a bit of his merciless side here as he tries to take the fight to Larry Tact here!



Wish goes for the cover as he tells the referee to count!



ONE!















TWO!















KICKOUT!



TODD: Strong kickout there! I’m a bit amazed Tact didn’t take an early loss there!



BAMA: He’s focused on trying to make up for lost time after what happened on Warfare! He’s still in this, baby!



Tommy frowns as he gets back to his feet, before proceeding to throw each of the dented steel chairs onto Tact’s body! His body gets halfway buried between the harsh steel as he quickly looks to a nearby railing! Wish nods in excitement as he proceeds to start to climb up!



BAMA: Uh… that sounds like a good way to break both of their bodies, though. Can Tommy even balance himself on a thin railing like that?!



TODD: I think we’re about to find out, Bama…



Tommy walks along the railing, his arms practically flailing about with every step he takes. The loud cheers and stomping of boots against the ground clearly rattles Tommy though, as he has to pause and reposition himself on the railing! He’s trying not to fall over!



BUT THAT ALLOWS TACT TO COME OVER AND SMACK TOMMY WITH A STEEL CHAIR TO KNOCK HIM OFF THE RAILING! TOMMY CRASH-LANDS HARD ON THE OTHER SIDE ONTO THE GROUND!



Tact quickly starts climbing upwards to where Tommy fell, trying to quickly put him away, but he sees Tommy already starting to crawl away and trying to get back onto his feet! He’s sporting one hell of a bloody nose, but Tact stays on the pursuit after him!



TODD: It looks like they’re going closer to the stage here!



BAMA: Loooot of expensive stuff they could break here…



Just before they get out of the crowd though, Tommy manages to get back to his feet, snatching a nearby drink from a fan as he swirls to throw it at Tact!



BUT TACT DUCKS! AND HE PULLS WISH IN FOR A SHORT-ARM CLOTHESLINE!



BAMA: You know what they say: ‘Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice…’



TODD: Tact showing off that IQ again as he manages to avoid danger there, but Tommy already feeling the impact there.



Tact shakes the fan’s hand who had her drink stolen from her, deeply apologizing to her as he points towards one of the nearby food carts up further in the stands! It looks like he’s offering her a free refill as the fans pop huge for the display of generosity!



Wish manages to come alive though, hitting Tact with a big forearm over his back, and the two of them are brawling towards the side of the stage! Rights and lefts are being exchanged, coming now towards the production equipment as Tact forces Wish off of him with a strong overhand right! Wish goes sailing back, his back turned to Tact as Tact sees his opportunity!



Tact pulls off a cord from the nearby production desk… AND HE STRANGLES IT AROUND WISH’S NECK! WHILE USING IT TO HELP CINCH IN A COBRA CLUTCH!



TODD: Tact telling Wish to Tactilize Yourself! He’s trying to make a statement with this submission hold, and the longer Wish doesn’t tap out here, the more he’s gambling with his life!



BAMA: Is it gonna be tap, nap or snap?! We’re about to find out!



Wish is wheezing! He’s turning red in the face! He’s trying to reach for salvation! Tact keeps the hold applied! Wish starts gaining some ground, but the cord can only go so far! It acts as a leash around Wish’s neck to keep him pinned!



He’s clawing at the hold! His red face is turning to blue! The referee is asking if he wants to submit!



Wish is fading as he slumps over to the ground…



ONLY TO RISE UP AND CLOBBER TACT OVER THE HEAD WITH A KENDO STICK!



TODD: How the hell did a Kendo Stick find its way over to production?!



BAMA: I don’t think we even wanna know, but that’s like a gift from God Himself for Tommy Wish!



Tact stumbles backwards, trying to keep the hold applied! But Wish whacks him again! He brings himself upwards, wrapping his arm behind Tact as he brings the kendo stick up! Both men are looking for their signature moves…



BUT TOMMY WISH HITS A KENDO-ASSISTED RUSSIAN LEG SWEEP TO TACT THROUGH THE PRODUCTION TABL-































































Silence reigns on the broadcast feed.































































Anarchy comes back to life, with both Tact and Wish downed within the wreckage of the production table.



TODD: -esting, testing! Bama, I think we’re back on the air!



BAMA: I was starting to get scared at this rate! Both these guys just took the entire show down!



TODD: Wish had to dig deep in order to hit that T-Russian Sweeper while being told to Tactilize Yourself, but it paid off in dividends. Both of these men have beaten the Hell out of each other in this sprint of a match, but if any of them can find the strength to get up first, they’re going to have the advantage here!



BAMA: They’re both stirring! Who’s it going to be, Todd?!



IT’S LARRY TACT!



He rises first, groggy and dazed, but as he reaches his feet he stares down at Tommy Wish, who is still stirring in the wreckage.



Larry Tact grabs Tommy Wish by the scruff of his neck, before positioning him for a Torture Rack Spinout Powerbomb!



TACT EXECUTES!





BAMA T: TACTILIZER! TACTILIZER! TACT JUST HIT A TACTILIZER!



TODD: Oh Bama’, this one’s over!



Larry Tact falls directly atop Tommy after pulling off The Tactilizer! The referee counts the pin!





1!







2!!









3!!!





Winner by Pinfall – Larry Tact








[Image: wireline.png]
















The first, frenetic strums of Faith No More's "Gentle Art of Making Enemies" rips through the arena as strobes of gold and white cast across the stage and crowd. After several moments, and then a few more for good measure, Kieran King eventually saunters onto the stage, smugly mugging for the audience while the Universal Championship rests upon his waist. In a flash, he sprints towards the ring and glides underneath the bottom rope - practically hovering off the mat. Keeping his momentum going, King darts towards the corner post and leaps towards the top. He crouches, and throws his arms up and back as if to backflip off the top... only to pull out at the last minute. He laughs at the crowd, mocking them as he settles in to some pre-match stretches.



BAMA T: And here comes the Undisputed KING of the Universe! The Universal Champion of the X-treme Wrestling Federation, the crusher of Revolutions and the overthrower of Corporations! KIERAN……KIIIIIIINNNGGGG!











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: Betsy Granger has her work cut out for her here tonight, but she looks up to the challenge! If there’s ANYONE, and I mean ANYONE who could pull off an upset against the freshly coronated King, it’s Betsy! She’s traveled universes far and wide, defeating some of the biggest names in the industry….and tonight, she’s looking to do it again!









KIERAN KING ©

- vs -

BETSY GRANGER



DA KING'S NON-TITLE RULEZ!





Before the bell can ring fully… Kieran King quickly slides under the ring to the outside?



TODD: What’s the King doing?



BAMA: Beats me, baby, but it looks like he’s comin’ over to the ring announcer?



Kieran points at the ring announcer, the two quickly exchanging a few hushed words. The ring announcer furrows his brow in confusion, but as Kieran repeats himself, he nods along before taking to the mic.



“Ladies and gentlemen… The King’s Rules-”



Kieran quickly forced a knowing glare his way which caused the ring announcer to have to catch himself.



“I mean… Da King’s Rulez shall be given on a need-to-know basis! First off, the King, Kieran King, has requested that his personal security guard be surrounding the ring at all times!”



BAMA: No way! This match just got turned into a lumberjack match!



TODD: Betsy’s beside herself! Kieran’s trying to screw her before the bell even rings!



BAMA: Guess that’s part of the power that comes with being King, huh, baby?



Kieran waits outside the ring as he watches his guard get into position along the ring. After exchanging a nod with Tommy Gunn on the outside, Kieran lets a smile come onto this face as he finally comes into the ring again.





DING! DING! DING!



TODD: And, well… we’re off. Controversial this match’s start might be, but it’s not going to change what’ll be happening here. Huge non-title match here for Betsy Granger looking to try and take it to Kieran King, both of these competitors looking to be Captains come War Games!



BAMA: Betsy’s got an uphill battle ahead of her, that’s for sure, baby. Kiki’s gonna try to keep the deck stacked right in his favor.



A collar-and-elbow tie-up quickly engages, with King managing to come out on top as he forces Betsy into the corner. As King pushes Betsy back further, the referee manages to break up the hold, but not before King WHALLOPS Betsy with a huge slap as they’re being broken up!



Betsy scowls, but immediately takes the fight to Kieran right after with a barrage of kicks being aimed right at his legs! Kieran’s having to turn mobile, trying to move out of the way, but one low roundhouse catches him right on the knee! Betsy moves it to a roundhouse to the ribs now, causing Kieran to double over! She moves right in…



Snapmare to the King! Kieran falls over, letting Betsy run off the ropes! BASEMENT DROPKICK TO THE CHIN!



Kieran looks like he’s taken a hard shot there, and he quickly finds himself rolling out of the ring to collect himself. Betsy follows after him, but clearly hesitates as she sees the hordes of henchmen outside.



TODD: Looks like the numbers disadvantage is finally starting to sink in for Betsy here, and at the worst timing, too.



BAMA: She can’t afford to let Kiki recover, though! It’s damned if she does, damned if she doesn’t!



Kieran sees his opportunity right after though, grinning while grabbing Betsy by the ankle and pulling her right outside of the ring!



Betsy manages to get to her feet, but the security guards are right there! They’re forcibly pulling her away from King before she can get a measure of payback! Betsy glares right at King’s deathly smug face, but with her limbs all restrained by the guards, she can only watch as King rises for a BUZZSAW KICK!



The referee looks to try and restore some order again! They quickly look to the outside of the ring and begin to count!



ONE!



TODD: Referee trying to do his job here, but King seems to look downright flabbergasted as he’s glaring back?



BAMA: Something tells me we’re about to see what the next ‘need-to-know’ rule is going to be out here…



TWO!



Kieran walks right over to the ring announcer again, relaying instructions as Betsy is forced down onto the ground!



THREE!



The ring announcer hesitantly nods to Kieran one more time before he picks up the mic again.



“Ladies and gentlemen… the next rule of ‘Da King’s Rulez’ has been revealed. It hereby states that there shall be NO count-outs or disqualifications in this match…”



BIG POP FROM THE CROWD!



“…for Kieran King only. Betsy Granger will still be affected by count-outs and disqualifications!”



THAT IMMEDIATELY TURNS TO BOOS!



TODD & BAMA: WHAT?!



Kieran chuckles as he immediately heads inside of the ring, bringing a steel chair with him! He immediately ignores Betsy as he sets up the chair inside of the ring and begins to lay back on it!



Betsy is still being swarmed by security at ringside! She’s trying to make her way back inside! The referee looks like he has no choice but to count!



THREE!

FOUR!



Kieran lazily checks his nails before deciding to get some shut-eye! But Betsy is trying her best to come back onto her feet against the sheer weight pushing against her!



FIVE!

SIX!



BETSY MAKES IT TO HER FEET! SHE’S TRYING TO SHOVE THE GUARDS OFF OF HER! A RIGHT HAND! AN UPPERCUT! A ROUNDHOUSE! SHE’S MANAGING TO SHAKE THEM OFF!



TODD: Look at her go! Betsy’s just a house on fire right now!



BAMA: She doesn’t have a lot of time before she gets counted out, though!



SEVEN!

EIGHT!



BETSY’S REALIZING THE COUNT! SHE’S GOING TO MOVE BACK INTO THE RING, BUT TOMMY GUNN TURNS HER AROUND INTO A HEAVY UPPERCUT!



NINE!



BUT BETSY RESPONDS WITH A ROUNDHOUSE TO THE SKULL THAT CLOBBERS HIM AS SHE SLIDES BACK INSIDE JUST IN TIME!



BAMA: If she took even a split second longer…



TODD: Betsy’s gotta look out though! King’s back on his feet!



KIERAN KING CLOBBERS BETSY GRANGER WITH THE STEEL CHAIR! He slams it over into her repeatedly, looking to try and keep her down for the count! The laziness act was just playing possum!



With Betsy softened up, Kieran takes the chance to lift Betsy up and plant her right back down with a BRAINBUSTERRRRRRRRRRRRR!



BAMA: He said, ‘F Ur Head!’



TODD: Betsy has so much to overcome! It’s bad enough stepping into the ring with Kieran King on any night of the week, but when he’s plotting the entire match and changing the stipulations when he feels like it…



Kieran with the cover!



ONE!














TWO!














KICKOUT!



BAMA: She’s still with it, though!



TODD: Have to wonder if she’s making a mistake or not here, though…



Kieran scoffs at Betsy, before he decides to go for the kill shot! He quickly scales the ropes, channeling the fans’ boos into extra energy as he proceeds to flip them off! He turns back to Betsy, sizing her up!



450 SPLASH!



ROLLED OUT OF THE WAY!



KIERAN HITS THE STEEL CHAIR UNDERNEATH AS HIS SKULL BOUNCES OFF!



TODD: NEVERMIND! KIERAN MISSED THE KING MAKER! THAT MIGHT HAVE JUST TURNED THE TIDE OF THIS MATCH!



BAMA: Kieran using that chair just came back to haunt him!



Kieran wearily pulls himself up, clearly dizzy from the shot to the skull, but Betsy sees her opportunity as she pulls herself up! She darts right in and hits a HURRICANRANA DRIVERRRRRRR! KING BOUNCES OFF THE MAT FROM THE PLANTE DE VISAGE AS THE FANS ARE ROARING IN ANTICIPATION!



BETSY MAKES HER WAY TO KIERAN’S LEGS AND PROCEEDS TO TIE THEM UP! AND SHE BRIDGES BACKWARDS AS KIERAN KING IS LOCKED IN THE CENTER OF THE RING!



TODD: BETSY CALLS THIS THE TUEZ LES ETOILES, AND IT’S LOCKED IN THE CENTER OF THE RING!



BAMA: Kiki might be about to call this the move he taps out to if Betsy keeps it locked in long enough!



KIERAN IS SCREAMING! HE’S DESPERATE TO ESCAPE! TO CLAW AGAINST THE RING CANVAS! HE CAN’T REACH THE ROPES THOUGH WITH BETSY’S BODY WEIGHT CONTORTED ON TOP OF HIM!



BUT HE HOLLERS FOR THE RING ANNOUNCER!



AND ALL OF A SUDDEN…



“Ladies and gentlemen… the next rule of ‘Da King’s Rulez’ has been revealed. It hereby states that there shall be NO submissions in this match!”



MORE BOOS RAIN DOWN FROM THE CROWD!



TODD: I don’t believe it, Bama! Betsy just had the Universal Champion dead-to-rights there!



BAMA: It’s gonna be on her to see if she can adapt, though! Come War Games, that’s what both of these guys are gonna have to do!



Betsy is forced to release the submission hold by the referee as she’s pissed off! She’s in his face, arguing! She glares at the ring announcer! But she has to turn her attention back to Kieran King as she runs in-



ONLY FOR KIERAN TO THROW A STEEL CHAIR RIGHT TO HER SKULL!



CRAAAAAAAAAAAACK!



BETSY STAGGERS BACK AS KIERAN MAKES HIS WAY BACK TO HIS FEET AND HE LEAPS INTO THE AIR!



COOOOOOOOOODEBREAKERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!



BAMA: Betsy might be Ugly on the Outside after that one, Todd!



TODD: I’m sick to my stomach, Bama.



BAMA: Pretty sure a lot of fans could say the same, right about now.



KIERAN HOOKS THE LEG AS THE REF COUNTS!



ONE!


















TWO!


















THREE!





WINNER: KIERAN KING!





Kieran King comes back right onto his feet, hands raised high in the air as he flashes a cheesy grin and a thumbs-up to the camera, basking in the boos and hatred that the crowd has to offer to their King.



TODD: I think we can all agree that this isn’t over, though. These two are going to be facing off alongside all the other War Games captains come Spooky Savage, and you better bet that Betsy Granger will be looking for some retribution there!



BAMA: Hoo boy… I can’t wait! One person’s gonna be drowning to death and y’all are gonna have to find out who the unlucky SOB is!



TODD: …You really gotta say it like that, Bama?



Anarchy fades to commercial as the show rolls on.





[b][b][b][Image: wireline.png][/b][/b][/b]






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.









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 arena. The tires squeal as it barrels down the ramp. 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. 



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 outskirts of the ring, hyped up, high octane energy, tagging hands. She stops at a child in the front row and slides her sunshades on their eyes, then, in unison with them, yells "VROOM VROOM!" 



Cassidy climbs onto the apron, 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. 











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 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. He then proceeds to get to a neutral corner and wait for the contest to begin.



BAMA: Oh man, a lot going on with this one!



TODD: You said it, Bama. For starters, we’ve got the brand spanking new and already impressive Clutch Cassidy in only her second match and Kristoffer Arroyo making his big debut!



BAMA: On top of that we’ve got the brewing drama between Revolution champ XXXVI and Anarchy mainstay Summer Page and TODD, Summer has made it VERY clear she wants what XXXVI has got!



TODD: So many elements colliding in this ring tonight folks! And that’s not even touching the wide range of personalities, from, well, the spoiled, to the energetic to the enigmatic to the downright creepy! This match has it all! And we’re kicking it off, right now!











XXXVI © & CLUTCH CASSIDY

- vs -

SUMMER PAGE & KRISTOFFER 'VAMP' ARROYO





CLASSIC TAG RULEZ!











The bell rings and both Summer Page and XXXVI come out of their respective corners, which draws a pop from the crowd! Summer wastes no time taking it to XXXVI, who to his credit is able to fight back with equal fortitude. The action between them is pretty back and forth until XXXVI gets into the rival corner and Kris Arroyo tags the champ with a brutal cheap shot elbow to the back of the head! Summer, who may not have even seen it, takes advantage by hitting the champ with the “1999” Impaler DDT. She covers!



1….





2…..NO! XXXVI raises the shoulder!



TODD: Summer almost pinned the champ yet again!



BAMA: You’re right Todd, and if she had she would have guaranteed her title shot for sure!



Clutch is fighting like mad trying to get her partner to make the tag, but Summer drags her rival to the middle of the ring and tags in Vamp. Vamp immediately sets in with some devastating strikes but eventually….lets XXXVI go and beckons Clutch to enter?!



BAMA: Summer not looking happy about her partners tactics!



XXXVI hits the tag and Clutch enters like a house of fire, hitting Vamp with leaping lariat followed by leaping lariat capping things off with a Nitro Kick into a cover on Arroyo!



1….





2….NOPE! Arroyo kicks out!



TODD: But wait!



As Arroyo kicks out, he grabs the back of Clutch’s head and starts biting her neck! The ref finally intervenes and forces Arroyo to stop, but he’s drawn blood! Clutch looks equal parts grossed out and enraged, but before she can go back on the attack Vamp tags Summer back in.



Summer and Clutch trade blows and eventually Clutch gets the advantage, tossing Summer around with her Gear Shift series of suplexes. Clutch covers Summer.



1….Arroyo dashes in the ring and breaks up the count!



BAMA: Vamp seems to be trying to get in Clutch’s head here. Or maybe he just has a crush!



TODD: I’m not sure he swings that way, partner….



Clutch ties Summer up in an armlock after the ref forces Vamp out of the ring and tags XXXVI back in. XXXVI continues the attack on Summer, and despite Summer showing some counterattack XXXVI quickly shuts her back down with a spinning backfist followed by a crowd pleasing springboard moonsault into a cover on Summer.



1….





2….







3….NO! Summer kicks out!



TODD: That was a close one though.



XXXVI picks Summer up and goes back on the attack, but Summer counters from out of nowhere with a sit out jawbreaker and tags Arroyo back in! But instead of going on the attack against XXXVI, Arroyo rushes to his opponent’s corner and knocks Clutch off the ring apron!



TODD: Another cheap shot from the purported vampire!



Clutch recovers quickly and scrambles into the ring, looking for revenge on Arroyo, but the ref forces her back out. Meanwhile, with the ref distracted, Arroyo hits a dirty low blow on the champion and he goes down. Arroyo covers!



1…..





2……XXXVI rolls the shoulder up!



Vamp continues the punishment on XXXVI until….he again just stops and throws XXXVI into Clutch’s corner, wanting her to tag in. Clutch does so eagerly and throws herself at Vamp, but this time she’s a little too eager and Vamp gets the advantage, nailing with the Teatro Grottesco series of knee lifts before pinning her.





1….





2…..







3…NO! Clutch kicks out!



Clutch is wounded but livid now, fighting out of the pin and to a vertical position where she and Vamp trade frenetic blows. Clutch starts to get an advantage but just as she does so Vamp tags Summer back in. Summer takes the fight to Clutch but with an eye towards XXXVI.



BAMA: You getting the sense she’d rather be in the ring with someone else?



TODD: Indeed I am, and it looks like it’s about to happen!



Clutch tags XXXVI in and Summer and the champion meet in the center of the ring. The action is very even for a time, until XXXVI is able to hit a decisive superkick on Summer! But just after he does so, he turns towards Vamp who chops him in the throat. The ref misses it and XXXVI runs back into Summer who nails him with a desperation “Pure Perfection” Perfectplex bridged right into a pin!



1….







2…..





3….!





Winners by Pinfall - "Spoiled" Summer Page & Kristoffer "Vamp" Arroyo




Summer rolls off XXXVI with a huge smile on her face as Clutch immediately bounds into the ring looking to go after Arroyo! But Arroyo drops down to the floor and blows her a kiss as he saunters to the back!



TODD: What a match! But instead the odd couple tag team of Summer Page and Kris Arroyo pick up the win.



BAMA: But what a story too! Vamp sure revealed his true colors in this match pulling out every dirty trick in the book. Meanwhile Summer Page has to have cemented her Revolution title match against XXXVI by pinning him again, even if it was under some dubious circumstances.



TODD: Don’t go anywhere folks, our main event is up next!









[b][b][Image: wireline.png][/b][/b]




TODD: Folks, it’s the end of an Era tonight! After a 382 day reign, ‘Micheal Graves’ has vacated the Anarchy Title due to a concussion in his last title defense… But, the end of one era means the start of another! And two people are eager to take this unique opportunity to become the new face of Thursday Night Anarchy!



BAMA: You ain’ kiddin’, Toddrick! Not only are these two hungry to become the top champ of the A-Show… they also seem to have a bit of beef with one another!







The honeyed rasp of Atara's voice blares over the facility's PA in unison with those words appearing on the multitude of screens and displays littering the arena.



HELLO DOVES



The crowd pops and gets to their feet shouting in near total unison a single word.



OPA!



TODD: Atara Raven! The Number One Contender to the Anarchy Title! She scored a shocking win over two very game competitors at Relentless in Amber Mansley and Larry Tact!



BAMA: Sho nuff! Mrs. James Raven feels like she’s turned a major corner in recent weeks! She’s been steppin’ that game up! You can feel the excitement in the air! Can Atara Raven score the top title on the Blue Brand?



TODD: She just might… if she can find a way to beat her opponent tonight…



Arena lights start to pulse in time with the music and multiple vertical streams of pyro erupt across the front of stage. Strutting with purpose, Atara emerges from the back taking spot centerstage atop the ramp. Posing for the camera, a wink and kiss is given to the viewers at home.



Grunge walking to the ringsteps, she climbs and stops at the top to posture again for her adoring public. Hand on her hip, the Grecian moves to the middle of the apron to blows a final kiss to the camera and enters the ring through the middle rope.



…







"Gored" by Loathe plays throughout the arena. The lights go out. Once the beat drops, a spotlight shines on the entryway, where Solomon appears inside the light, clad in a black hoodie over his ring gear and a ski mask, kneeling on his right knee. As the lyrics come in, he stands, removes his hood and surveys the crowd as sparks rain down around him. 



TODD: And here he is! The latest addition to the Corporation’s ranks… ‘Psycho’ Solomon! The man who betrayed his mentor Blizzard at Relentless! Mrs. James Raven, having just joined the Tribe a few weeks prior to Relentless, dashed to the ring to try and make the save for Blizz… but the rest of the Corporation held her back and forced her to watch as the ‘Psycho’ rained blows down on the skull of Aidan Collins!



BAMA: In Kline’s defense… he doesn’t dislike Atty! A few weeks ago, Kline came and provided backup when Atty wrestled Oz! He just needed to break off with Blizz! He said in his promo, he still respects the hell outta Atty! That he and Atty should still be besties!



TODD: …Bama, I will repeat. He PUMMELED Blizz… one of Atty’s husband’s dearest friends! While Atty was held back and forced to watch!



BAMA: …Ok, I will change defense tactics. In the Tribe, Kline was third banana! As a member of the Corporation? He’s the Crown Jewel! He’s the Chosen Son! He demanded a chance to compete against Atara Raven for the vacant Anarchy championship… And he got it! Was he getting these opportunities *before*, when he was in the Tribe? Hell no!



TODD: Kline certainly slid straight into this title opportunity against Atara! He seems to be of the belief that this is his moment! This is his chance to become the face of Thursday Nights, the same brand that his father Crimson Kline was once the General Manager of! But, in Atty’s eyes, you can see a hunger for vengeance! A thirst to avenge Kline’s betrayal against The Tribe!


Solomon slowly makes his way toward the ring, sneering at fans along the way. He circles the ring and slides under the bottom rope. He peers out at the crowd in the middle of the ring through his ski mask. He flips off the people in the crowd, making sure to show hate to each side of the ring equally.

He then readies himself for the match, feeling pity for those who have to face him.

...


The crowd is molten hot before the bell even rings.



…Before the bell rings, these two stand opposite each-other, eagerly awaiting the bell to ring… ‘Psycho’ dons a sinister, wide smile, muttering something to Atara the audio doesn’t quite pick up… Atty is stoic, her expression doesn’t change… but her fists visibly tighten…



BAMA: Kline referred to tonight as ‘win-win’ for him… In that he doesn’t mind if he takes the win OR Atty does… But he also said he won’t be denied!



TODD: Meanwhile, Atara considered two champions of her past and which she’d channel: The Engineer, and embrace a godhood of destruction… Or ALIAS, the Eater of Worlds! And the uprooter of Evil on Anarchy!



BAMA: I mean… if she can channel one IOTA of either of those guys, I like her chances!



TODD: The remnants of The Tribe collide tonight! And one of them is walking out the new Anarchy champion!











ATARA RAVEN

- vs -

'PSYCHO' SOLOMON



ANARCHY TITLE MATCH!







HIGHLIGHT REEL




The moment before the bell rings, Kline dives forward, looking for an axe handle!



TODD: Kline jumps the gun! Kline goes to attack Atty before the bell has even rung! Whaat a dirty play!



BAMA: But he still respects the hell outta her!



TODD: Bama, come off it!



Solomon’s fists swing down!



…But Atara circle-steps, peppering Solomon with snapping pankration jabs! She catches Kline twice in the jaw… He staggers back, using the momentum from the strikes… And he swings wild with a clothesline!



But Atty ducks under and peppers the ribs with body shots. The crowd roars as she strings strikes together like a boxer!



TODD: Atara Raven looks DIALED IN! I think acting as guest referee and watching Matt Knox and SEB trade kicks gave her an appreciate for racking up strike counts!



…Kline drops his guard as Atty hops in.



WHAM! He eats a clean jab to the chin… And wraps his arms around Raven, manhandling her, flipping her around into a waistlock..



Then  suddenly launches her across the ring with a German suplex!



Atty lands her hard on the back of her neck, near the corner!



TODD: WOW! Kline decided to just eat a handful of strikes if it meant grappling Atty and hucking her like a Scottish caber!



BAMA: That’s the ‘Psycho’ in action! Willing to eat the hurt if he can inflict it even worse on his opponent!





TODD: Kline’s been physically punishing Atty with strikes…



BAMA: And it looks like he’s aiming to clock out early and take the Anarchy title with him!



Atty cradling her gut as she smashes her fist against the mat, determined to stay in this thing…



Meanwhile, on the other side of the ring… Kline is setup like a linebacker ready to make a SACK!



Atty turns around…



Kline rushes in!



SPEAR!



…



NO! Atty leapfrogs up and over! Doing a toe-touch as she leaps!



TODD: WOW! Look at the athleticism on display by Aphrodite Incarnate!



Kline drives his own face into the middle turnbuckle!



TODD: And ‘Psycho’ gets psyched out!



…Kline dizzily retracts his head from the turnbuckle…



As Atty spins around, catching him under the arm…



PICTURE-PERFECT BIRTH OF VENUS SUPLEX!



Atty pops up, hair flying, rallying the crowd with a belly dance flutter and an...



OPA!



OPAAAAAAAAAAA!



TODD: Atty revelling turning this match around with the crowd… Though maybe she should save the dancing until AFTER she’s secured the belt!



Atty turns to cover Kline…



But Solomon rolls to the outside clutching his lower back!





BAMA: Kline’s managed to keep his distance from Atty on the outside…



TODD: But Atty remains in hot pursuit!



Kline retreats, holding his gut, still shaking off Atty’s devastating suplex… But Atty manages to close the distance with a jog…



TODD: Reminder, folks, no double count-outs here! Tonight, we will have ONE winner! ONE new champion!



Kline ducks around the corner, dipping below the apron!



Atty grabs the turnbuckle pole, looking to pick up speed to catch h-



SUPERKICK!



Kline from the padded concrete, obscured by the apron, catches Atty as she turns the corner with a kick to the skull!



Atty drops straight onto her back outside!



The official barks ordering Kline and Atty back into the ring… but instead, Kline grabs Atty HARD by the hair… heaving her off the ground…



And CHUNKING her into the steel steps!



Atty cradles her back, looking agonized!





TODD: They’ve gotten back inside the ring… and it looks Kline looks like he’s ready to put it away here…



Kline sets Atty up, sitting on her back while standing, trying to set up for the Dust to Dust (Vertebreaker)...



But Atty shoves Kline into the ropes from behind! Kline rebounds, as Atty leaps for a…



JUDGMENT OF PARIS KNEE STRIKE!



…But Kline clings onto the ropes behind him!



Atty’s leap ends up with her landing on her feet…



And that’s when Kline charges forward with a…



ASHES TO ASHES! (Pop-up Forearm Smash!)



TODD: Ashes to Ashes! This could be it! New Anarchy champion!



BAMA: The house always wins!



Atty collapses onto her back as Kline falls forward on top of her!



The official counts!



ONE!



TWO!



THRE-NO! Atty forces the shoulder up!





Solomon scoops Atty up by the scruff of the neck… She heaves exhaustedly on her knees, looking spent…



TODD: How the Hell is Atty still in this thing? Kline’s given her everything he’s can and she’s still finding the fuel to keep going!



BAMA: He’s about to snuff out her candle right here, Toddy baby!



Solomon again, sets up Atty into Dust to Dust position… he wraps one arm! Then, the other!



…



But in a flash, Atty scoops to the mat, wrapping her legs around Kline’s! Trying to bring him to the mat!



TODD: Atty’s pulling one last counter! Aphrodite’s Duality!



As Atty tries to force Kline onto his back to secure her Banana-Split style leg submission, ‘Psycho’ manages to claw his way forward… and clinch onto the ropes!



BAMA: Phew… see! That’s what makes Kline worthy of the Anarchy Title! He’s got the survival instincts of a champion!



Atty refuses to break the hold, desperately trying to break his grip, tearing him away from the ropes!



Kline throws a desperation elbow backwards!



Atty staggers against the ropes… As Kline charges forward!



…But Atty rebounds off the ropes!



JUDGMENT OF PARIS KNEE STRIKE!



TODD: OH MY GOD! FROM OUTTA NOWHERE! We’re gonna have a new Anarchy champion!



BAMA: No! NO!



Kline hits the mat…



As Atty collapses beside him… She slowly extends an arm over ‘Psycho’’s fallen body!



The official counts…



ONE!



TWO!



THRE-NOOOOOOOOOOOO! ‘PSYCHO’ throws a shoulder off the mat!





THE THRILLING CONCLUSION




TODD: These two have put everything… EVERYTHING they have into this match!



BAMA: But only one’s walking out with a belt, Toddrick!



Both competitors stagger to their feet, exhausted, sweat pouring…



Sol strikes first, hitting Atty with a…



FOREARM SMASH!



…Atty tilts backward… but stays upright!



She retaliates with a…Pankration straight right!



Kline takes it on the chin! He counters with a…



BOOT to the midsection! Atty doubles over… onto one knee.



Kline backs up into the ropes…



Setting up for a running boot!



…But Atty’s ready! She leaps into the air! Looking for a…



JUDGMENT OF PARIS!



…But Kline’s ready for Atty being ready!, catching her in the air on his shoulders!



TODD: Oh no! We saw Kline pull this on Barney Green on Warfare! The Psycho Driver!



Kline hoists Atty up for…



THE PSYCHO DRIVER!



…



But Atty drops off the back as he lifts!



And She wraps around his legs! Forcing him onto his back!



APHRODITE’S DUALITY! DEAD CENTER OF THE RING!



TODD: Wow! What a counter by Atty! She’s got Kline locked into Aphrodite’s Duality!



BAMA: Fight out, ‘Psycho’!



Solomon desperately reaches… He stretches, desperately trying to claw for the ropes!



But Atty holds him back, cranking his legs apart with all she’s got!



Kline… reaches!



DESPERATELY!



…



….



BUT THE PAIN IS TOO MUCH!



Kline taps out!



WINNER AND NEEEEEEEEEEEEW XWF ANARCHY CHAMPION: ATARA RAVEN!




TODD: Oh my GOD! These two waged an absolute war! Neither of these competitors may ever be the same… Solomon Kline pulled out every stop! He showed a whole new level of brutality he was willing to unleash!



But Atara Raven would not be denied! She promised Kline’s story would end in tragedy and she delivered on that promise tonight! And she is YOUR NEW ANARCHY CHAMPION!



The confetti is still falling after Atara Raven’s championship win when suddenly the lights dim. The stage lights up with blue spotlights, and the new General Manager of Anarchy steps out, microphone in hand, smirk plastered on his face. His first Anarchy is in the books, and he looks damn proud of himself as he brings a microphone to his lips.



“Ladies and gentlemen… I did it! My first Anarchy. My first night in charge. And look at it—look at what Big Dick Lichter built! Gold on the waist of a champion, ratings through the roof, and a locker room trembling in respect… or fear. Either one works for me, honstely.”



He smirks, pointing to the ring where Atara holds the Anarchy Championship high.



“Atara Raven. Take a bow, sweetheart. You are the face of Anarchy now. You are the gold standard, the flagship, the ALPHA PUSSY of this brand. And ‘Big’ Dick says that with nothing but admiration, trust me. You’ve clawed your way to the top, and you did it on my night. You made my debut look legendary.”



The crowd cheers for Atara as Lichter begins pacing, enjoying his own voice more than the reaction.



“But that means something now. You carry MY title now, and that comes with the responsibility of representing my brand in the PROPER manner. You don’t just hold a belt, Atara: you hold my reputation. Every win you get makes me look bigger. Every loss you take… makes me look smaller. And if there’s one thing Big Dick Lichter can’t stand, it’s feeling small!”



He grins, pausing to let the innuendo breathe as the crowd hoots and jeers.



“Now, I know about your coming match on Warfare. I know about Centurion. I know about that shiny little X-Treme Championship. If you bring that belt back home to Anarchy, Atara: then you’ll become a hero. You’ll be Atty Two-Belts. You’ll be the savior of this show, the Alpha Pussy who proved that Anarchy’s got the biggest pair in the business!”



His expression suddenly turns darker. The smile stays, but it gets sharper.



“But if you lose? If you walk into that other locker room and let those Warfare rejects embarrass me? Well….let’s just say Big Dick Lichter doesn’t handle frustration quietly. When I get disappointed, baby, the whole building shakes. And trust me, you don’t wanna find out what happens when Big Dick gets hard to please.”



He licks his lips, adjusting his tie as he raises his microphone one last time, staring directly into the eyes of the new Anarchy champion.



“This is my show now, Atara. My brand. My Anarchy. And as long as I’m in charge, you’ll do well to remember one thing…Big Dick Lichter always finishes on top!”



He drops the mic. The crowd explodes with boos as he turns, pointing at Atara in the ring while mouthing the words ‘Don’t disappoint me’. The camera lingers on his smirk and the gold on her shoulder before the feed fades to black.





So many thanks to our



MATCH & Segment WRITERS

Liam Desmond (legit, he carried a heavy load this show- no diddy)



Kieran King (omg Da King!!!)



Pedro Principale



John Black



Twilight Arroyo



AND EVERYYONE WHO RP’D!
]]>



XWF Anarchy
[Image: vuE1ZV0.png]
10 - 09 - 2025


LIVE FROM THE FREEMAN COLISEUM!

SAN ANTONIO, TEXAS










LIAM ROBERTS

- vs -

RAZOR BLADE



X-TREME RULEZ!









[Image: wireline.png]






BARNEY GREEN

- vs -

MR. OZ



OLD SCHOOL RULEZ!







[Image: wireline.png]








LARRY TACT

- vs -

TOMMY WISH



FALLS COUNT ANYWHERE!









[Image: wireline.png]








KIERAN KING ©

- vs -

BETSY GRANGER



DA KING'S NON-TITLE RULEZ!







[Image: wireline.png]








XXXVI © & CLUTCH CASSIDY

- vs -

SUMMER PAGE & KRISTOFFER 'VAMP' ARROYO





CLASSIC TAG RULEZ!

2 RPs per Team @ 1K only





[Image: wireline.png]












ATARA RAVEN

- vs -

'PSYCHO' SOLOMON



ANARCHY TITLE MATCH!







Behold the drummers.



Behold the marching feet of the XWF Security Team.



The troops wear masks. Their armour—more heavily clad than even just days ago on Warfare.



They have upgraded. Bigger, nastier, and with the company logo even smaller on their back.



The crown dominates their uniform.



And soon, it dominates the Freeman Coliseum as “The Gentle Art of Making Enemies” by Faith No More rips around the arena.



Between the crown and the Universal Championship, Kieran King is covered in gold as he strides towards the ring, sans his usual fanfare with a grumpy determination replacing it instead.



King Kieran: Ladies and gentlemen… it seems there has been a little bit of fake news floating about as pertains to who holds the true power in the XWF. We are living in a post-Thaddeus Duke world… We are living in a world where I *personally* put an end to Dolly Waters's dreams of ‘people power’...



He says that with a mocking inflection.



King Kieran: Theo Pryce isn't coming back and Vinnie Lane… well he's the one responsible for the situation we're now in, isn't he? Vinnie Lane sold a controlling share of the XWF to three people whose combined wealth is the greatest pot of gold this world has ever seen. But as you saw on Warfare and you now see around the ring…



He points to his personal army.



King Kieran: There are some things that money can buy. There are limits to that wealth can wield. Because money isn't power… knowledge isn't power… Cersei Lannister may have had horrible taste in men but she was right about one thing… POWER IS POWER!!! And when it comes to the XWF, I alone hold the balance of all power! I… YOUR MONARCH… YOUR CHAMPION… YOUR KING OF THE UNIVERSE!!!



He breathes. It looks more like a seethe.



King Kieran: Let me be crystal fucking clear so that even the lizard people trying to run this joint can understand… there is not a blade of grass that can blow in the wind without me saying so. On this world, or in any other.

I'm the King of the whole bloody Universe, not just Earth.

Mars? Mine.

Venus? Mine.

Jupiter? Mine.

Hoth? Mine.

Tatooine? Mine.

Arrakis? Mine.

Krypton? Mine.

Uranus? Mine.



He points to a guy in the front row.



King Kieran: His anus? Mine.



And to a woman near the man.



King Kieran: Her anus? Mine.

All your asses belong to me! Everything, from here to the edge of existence itself, is under the sole domain of THE GREATEST WRESTLER ALIVE.

Tonight, I start with Betsy Granger… a demonstration of sorts that Anarchy is as important a part of my kingdom as Warfare is.

But next month… YOUR KING goes to war.

These Trillionaires don't seem to understand just who the fuck I am.

I don't just wrestle for a living, I make history for a living! Back-to-back King of the XWF reigns… history! Fifteen years between Universal Championships… history! Uniting the crown and the title… history! Undefeated for SEVENTEEN MONTHS AND COUNTING… history!

And inside of War Games, I'll just have to go ahead and make history again. Because who the fuck could possibly stop me from walking in to defend against the ENTIRE GODDAMN COMPANY and walking out again STILL the KING OF THE UNIVERSE.



Kieran stands, arms stretched in all his glory, the Universal Championship and the King of the XWF crown  firmly united… for now.





[Image: wireline.png]








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.



TODD: And here comes THE American Nightmare!



BAMA T: Razor Blade pledged to unleash great violence here in San Antonia tonight- and from the look on his face, I think he meant it!



TODD: Well Bama’, when you let a guy called RAZOR BLADE star in an X-treme Rulez match to open the show….you know you’re in for a bloody good time!











Liam Roberts’ music blares through the PA system as Liam hits the stage. Liam extends his arms out, ala-Jesus, as he walks towards the ring. When he nears the ring, he slides under the ropes and prepares for battle!



TODD: Liam Roberts! A long-time veteran of XWF Anarchy, Liam came back at Relentless to participate in the battle royale on night 1! It may not have gone his way, but Liam definitely left his mark and reminded everyone exactly who he is!



BAMA T: Liam doesn’t always win, but he always leaves a bloody taste in his opponent’s mouth! This should be a great opening bout!









LIAM ROBERTS

- vs -

RAZOR BLADE



X-TREME RULEZ!





Liam and Razor exchange blows at the beginning of the match. Razor Blade quickly gets the advantage, delivering heavy haymaker after heavy haymaker! Liam Roberts tries to scurry away, using his speed to his advantage. Razor chases after Liam, but Roberts ducks under the bottom ropes and outside the ring!

Never one to be deterred, Razor slides out of the ring after Liam, trying to spear him into the barricade!



But Liam dodges it just in time, causing Razor’s shoulder to crash right into the barrier!



Liam laughs to himself as Razor Blade clutches his shoulder in pain. Never one to waste an opportunity, Liam immediately begins digging under the ring for some devious weaponry. After a few seconds of fumbling around beneath the ring, Liam eventually pulls out a barbed wire wrapped steel chair! Liam slams the chair against the ringside apron a few times, testing it’s mettle. Once he’s satisfied with his new weapon, Liam turns around to go find Razor Blade and beat him with it!



TODD: Liam Roberts has bad intentions, I can just sense it! He’s looking to rearrange Razor’s face with that barbed wire wrapped chair!



BAMA: Well DUH, Todd! It’s an X-treme Rulez match, and Liam is as X-treme as they come!



Liam Roberts heads back to Razor with the chair in hand, and a sick grin plastered to his smarmy face.



Liam lifts the chair high into the air-



But before he can bring it crashing down, Razor interrupts him with a kick to the gut!



Liam drops the chair as he doubles over in pain!



Razor Blade grabs Liam by the neck, delivering a DDT right onto the chair! Liam’s face immediately explodes into a bloody mess!



BAMA T: Well damn, Todd! That didn’t go the way that Liam thought it would!



After Razor Blade throws Liam Roberts back into the ring, the match becomes a completely one-sided affair. Liam’s face leaks across the entire ring as Razor delivers body drop after suplex after clothesline after body slam. Liam Roberts crawls to the ropes and tries to get a ‘rope break’, but the referee reminds him this is X-treme Rulez, and Razor Blade can do whatever he wants to do in this match!



Razor Blade grabs Liam Roberts by his blood-red hair, dragging him over towards the center of the ring before bringing him back to the mat with a snap powerslam!



Razor patiently waits for Liam to arise once more, then he grabs Liam underneath their head and flips them over with his finishing move, a Blade Rose!



The referee counts the pin!





1!









2!!









3!!!





Winner by Pinfall – Razor Blade












[Image: wireline.png]












TODD: You think Ozzie’s got a point to prove tonight, Bama?



BAMA: Well, I think the better question is, why wouldn’t he, baby? He came up short in Relentless for them Anarchy Tag Titles, and that’d piss off just about anyone on the roster!



TODD: And folks, a lot of people will tell you right away, an angry Mister Oz is a focused Mister Oz. And a focused Mister Oz could spell trouble tonight.



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.















"Realize" By AC/DC starts to play as the fans start cheering. Out walks Barney Green, dressed in his ring gear. He slowly walks out and waves at the fans. He walks down to the ring and enters it. He waits in the corner as his music fades.



TODD: Raucous applause here tonight for Barney Green! And it’s hard to blame them, he’s a living legend of this sport and in XWF history! He looks set to try and continue his comeback tour here tonight!



BAMA: Good luck tryin’ to get past Mister Oz, though. Man looks so hungry he’d probably devour a pack of raw meat like a shark. Gives me the creeps, baby…



TODD: Old school rules here tonight, folks, which means anything can happen. No disqualifications, no count outs!



BAMA: No mercy?



TODD: Sure sounds about right…







BARNEY GREEN

- vs -

MR. OZ



OLD SCHOOL RULEZ!







DING! DING! DING!



TODD: And we’re off! Folks, don’t expect a match that’s pretty, don’t expect a technical masterclass! This is going to be a brawl, a fight, pure and simple here!



BAMA: Both these boys are chompin’ at the bit to get to each other! I can’t wait!



It’s Oz who comes out of his corner first, charging ahead at Barney with a full head of steam! A stiff clothesline comes out, and Barney gets sent right into the corner from it as he lands hard!



Oz is already on top of him as he mauls him like an animal! Right hands, left hands! Upstairs! Downstairs! Barney is having to cover up against this manic onslaught!



But he quickly fires back with a sharp HEADBUTT! It lands right between the eyes as Oz has to stagger back from the impact, allowing Green to come charging back with a big clubbing forearm right to the noggin!



That move only perks Oz up, though! He straights as he glares at Barney, before taking him by the hair and throwing him right out of the ring! Barney takes a tumble to the outside, but he’s quickly back on his feet as he walks around to try and regroup…



BUT OZ DIVES OUT OF THE RING WITH A HUGE CROSSBODY!



BAMA: Hot damn, baby! Oz rarely gets the chance, but he loves showin’ off that speed and agility whenever he can!



TODD: These two didn’t take long to let the action spill to the outside, folks. Barely any rules in this match here, and they can’t wait to make use of that fact. The only thing stopping these two is going to be their own imagination.



The two quickly come back to their feet, and they don’t waste time throwing more punches. Barney manages to get some more space growing between the two as he shoves Oz back, sending him right back into the barricade! Oz looks to charge back in…







CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!







BUT BARNEY MANAGES TO REACH UNDERNEATH THE RING AND PULL OUT A LIGHTTUBE IN TIME! GLASS SHARDS GO FLYING AS A CLOUD OF SMOKE HANGS IN THE AIR!



TODD: Bama! You wanna talk about speed, Barney just pulled that lighttube out faster than either of us can blink!



BAMA: Look at Ozzie! It’s a miracle he’s even standin’, baby!



Oz is standing, but he’s on clear spaghetti legs after that hard shot to the dome! Green curses as he pulls himself to his feet, before taking the lighttube by the other end and CRACKING it right across Oz’s face again!



AND THIS TIME IT DROPS HIM!



THE FANS ARE POPPING LIKE CRAZY!



Barney grits his teeth as he looks under the ring again! And what he pulls out this time only gets the fans more pumped as they realize what’s coming!



A TABLE!



TODD: I can sense only evil intentions with that table, Bama…



BAMA: Both these guys are some heavy boys, baby! Imagine all that weight crashing down through hard wood? It might be an early end to the contest here!



Barney drags the table over onto the other side of the arena, propping it right up against the metal guardrail! He grins and nods, satisfied with his work as he brings himself right back to Mister Oz who’s getting up!



IRISH WHIP TO OZ!



OZ GOES SAILING RIGHT TOWARDS THE TABLE!



BUT HE MANAGES TO PLANT HIS FEET AND STOP ON A DIME JUST IN TIME!



OZ TURNS HIS HEAD TO SEE BARNEY CHARGING AT HIM FROM BEHIND THOUGH! BIG ELBOW TO THE SKULL CUTS HIM OFF!



TODD: Sharp instincts from Oz there, easy to forget with Barney in the match, but Oz is quite the crafty veteran himself!



BAMA: How’s he gonna be able to follow up, though?



Oz grunts as he sees Barney blinking out the cobwebs, before he moves right in! He scoops Barney up and hoists him with everything he’s got! The fans go CRAZY at the freakish display of strength!



DOUBLE A SPINEBUSTER-



BARNEY REVERSES INTO A GUILLOTINE CHOKE! HE LOCKS HIS LIMBS AROUND OZ’S BODY AS HE TRIES TO CHOKE THE LIFE OUT OF HIM!



BAMA: Did you know Barney had this type of thing up his sleeve, Todd?



TODD: No way! But Barney’s sure as Hell putting it to good use! Trying to sap the big man of his strength, trying to give himself an edge in this contest… he could use this to put Oz through the table right now.



Tank is going beet red in the face! Sweat drips down his body as he sinks to a knee, and Barney seizes his chance as he goes back on his feet!



HE HOISTS OZ UP!



BELLY-TO-BELLY SUPLEX-



DESPERATION EYE RAKE FROM OZ CUTS BARNEY OFF! AND INSTEAD, HE GOES BEHIND HIM-



GERMAN! SUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUPLEX! BARNEY GOES FLYING ACROSS THE RINGSIDE AREA, BUT TANK MAINTAINS WAIST CONTROL AS HE BRINGS HIM UP!



BAMA: Somethin’ tells me I think we know what’s comin’ next…



TODD: It’s hard to put into words just how insane this level of strength is, folks. Barney Green, always a heavy competitor, a stocky 247 lbs in a small, 5’10 frame. Lifting him up once would be an achievement, but Oz managing to lift him up SIX times for his Sextuple German Suplex?! He’s a machine!



BAMA: Ain’t no Green Machine, that’s for sure, baby!



Oz hoists up Barney again, and Barney tries to fight out! A series of elbows clobbers Oz in the face, but he has to shrug it off!



A SECOND GERMAN SUPLEX!



They come up again! More elbows to try and throw Tank off! But Tank continues!



Three! Four! Five!



Barney’s sluggish now, but Oz sees his opportunity! He moves right towards the table and launches Barney one more time!



SIXTH GERMAN SUPLEX RIGHT THROUGH THE TABLE AND THE BARRICADE!



BARNEY GETS CRUSHED!



TODD: Is he even moving?!



BAMA: No idea! We gotta get some EMTs out here!



Ringside doctors quickly flock their way down to the dilapidated barricade where Barney lays to check on him! Oz snarls at the group before he starts shoving them aside! He’s making his way to Barney!



Oz pulls Barney up by the hair and forces him inside while ignoring the doctors! He rolls in after him, and goes for a cover as the ref is forced to count!



ONE!









TWO!









KICKOUT?!



BAMA: How in the blue Hell did this man kick out?!



TODD: Your guess is as good as mine, Bama! I don’t think anyone in this arena can believe it!



Oz slowly rises from his cover, loudly swearing as he does so. He turns his attention to the referee, a dark glance crossing his eyes. The ref holds his hands up, clearly not looking for a fight as the two rise to their feet.



Oz holds his fingers up, clearly disputing the count as the ref is arguing his side, telling him that Barney clearly managed to kick out in time. Oz doesn’t want to hear it, though…



AS BARNEY MANAGES TO PULL OZ AROUND INTO A DREAMMAKERRRRRRRRRRR!



BAMA: He’s alive! He’s back on his feet!



TODD: Oz is still standing after that Dreammaker, though! Both of them are on spaghetti legs right now!



BAMA: Look at Barney, though! He’s still got Oz by the wrist!



BARNEY LETS OUT A PRIMAL ROAR AS HE STRAIGHTENS HIMSELF BACK OUT!



AND LUNGES IN ONE MORE TIME FOR ANOTHER DREAMMAKERRRRRRRRRRRRR!



HE GOES FOR THE COVER!



ONLY TO WATCH AS OZ ROLLS OUT OF THE RING!



TODD: If that’s not a heartbreaking sight for any competitor in the ring, then I don’t know what is.



BAMA: Could be a chance for both of these guys to try and recover, though!



Green crawls after Oz, trying to make his way to the outside of the ring, trying to pull him back in and finish this match…



BUT OZ REACHES BACK INSIDE THE RING TO CLOBBER BARNEY’S SKULL



WITH



A



LADDER!



BARNEY FALLS ONTO HIS BACK AS OZ SLIDES INTO THE RING! BARNEY’S TRYING TO STIR, BUT TANK’S SETTING UP THE LADDER RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE RING!



TODD: We talked about evil intentions earlier, Bama… but a fall from that height could end careers if it goes poorly.



BAMA: If Barney wants to wake up to see tomorrow, he’s gotta get up! Right now!



Oswald starts climbing up the ladder as Barney Green is slow to stir! The crowd is on the edge of their seats as Oswald slowly ascends towards the heavens!

Barney finally pushes himself up to a standing position once Oswald reaches the ladder’s peak…



But when Barney looks up towards the stars, he just sees Oswald leaping off the ladder!



Diving Hurricanrana!



The entire ring shakes from the impact!



When Oswald lands atop Barney, the referee immediately counts the pin!



1!





2!!





3!!!



Winner by Pinfall – Mr. Oz




[Image: wireline.png]












"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.



TODD: Gotta imagine Tact’s wanting to make a statement win tonight. He had a very close match against Dickie Watson for the TV title, but couldn’t quite get the win out.



BAMA: Tact’s a hungry boy, and who can blame him? He’s got a chance to get himself righted right here, right now though. Gets me on the edge of my seat thinkin’ about these guys that’re gonna try to bring it against each other…



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.















It shows Tommy in the shadows in a corridor somewhere on the X-Tron in a hoodie, then it fades back into the arena where the lights flicker and the camera see's him coming down to the ring in his jacket hoodie, with him waving a Kendo Stick around him. Then he nods his head to the beat, and he gives some fans some dap as he walks down to the ramp, then he slides into the ring, and gets on the turnbuckle and poses to the crowd with the stick in the air. Then he comes down from there, and sits on the corner as his theme fades off.



TODD: Tommy Wish is no stranger to fighting uphill battles, he’ll be the first one to tell you that himself. Still, it’s rather amazing the level of perseverance he brings to the ring each and every night, isn’t it?



BAMA: Gonna need a lot more than perseverance if he wants to start rackin’ those wins up though, baby! He’s got some upset victories over the years though. Let’s see if we’re about to see another one of those tonight!







LARRY TACT

- vs -

TOMMY WISH



FALLS COUNT ANYWHERE!







DING! DING! DING!



TODD: And we’re off! Lots of risks coming with a Falls Count Anywhere match, but these two look ready to fight and they’re chomping at the bit to get to it!



BAMA: Tact’s lookin’ like he means business in the ring tonight, can Wish keep up?



The two competitors quickly lock-up in the middle of the ring, with Tact using his size and strength to bully the smaller yet chunkier Wish. Tact manages to press Wish against the ropes and tries for an Irish Whip, but it gets quickly reversed by Wish who sends Tact running instead!



Tact responds back with a running swinging neckbreaker though! Wish hits the ground hard, but Tact is already right on top of Wish! A big clubbing forearm to the back doubles him down, allowing Tact to scoop him up right on his shoulders!



Tact charges around the ring! RUNNING POWERSLAM-!



BUT WISH DUCKS OUT FROM BEHIND! HE RUNS AHEAD AND HITS A HUGE BULLDOG ON TACT!



TODD: Tommy Wish trying to give as good as he’s getting right now!



BAMA: He’s like a caged animal in there! Scrappy, almost a little desperate with how he’s kickin’ and squirmin’!



Wish quickly collects himself, stalking the ropes to try and figure out his next move, but Tact waits as Wish lets his guard down before he comes back to his feet and plants Wish with a huge CLOTHESLINE! Tommy Wish gets taken out of the ring and hits the outside mat hard!



Tact comes out to the outside, the referee following after as he comes straight to the downed Wish. Tact goes to pick him up, but Wish delivers a hard side elbow to Tact’s gut to stop him. Wish climbs back to his feet, looking for some well-placed punches, but Tact fires back with a strong European Uppercut to bring Wish backwards!



TACT LOOKS TO CHARGE AT WISH WHO’S LEANING AGAINST THE BARRICADE!



BUT TOMMY WISH MANAGES TO GET OVER THE BARRICADE IN TIME! Tact has to stop himself from crashing into the steel just in the nick of time!



TODD: Quick thinking by Wish to avoid impact there, but equally high ring IQ from Tact not to let himself meet the hard steel there!



BAMA: Wish ain’t gonna be able to escape the match that easily, though! It’s Falls Count Anywhere, after all!



TODD: I dunno if it’s a matter of Wish trying to get the Hell out of here, or just making a tactical retreat for the time being to collect himself…



Tact snarls at the retreating Wish, motioning for him to come back to ringside, but Wish walks along the stands as he wipes the sweat off of his brow! Tact scoffs, but he quickly follows after Wish! They’re taking the fight to the stands!



Tact looks to quickly close the distance to Wish, but Wish hears Tact coming! He grabs a nearby empty steel chair and proceeds to THROW IT RIGHT TOWARDS TACT!



CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!



It bounces right off of Tact’s head with a sickening thud as he staggers backwards, allowing Tommy to close in towards him! Boot to the gut- NO NO NO!



STIFF POWERBOMB RIGHT TO A NEARBY SET OF NEARBY CHAIRS! EACH OF THEM GETS DENTED AS TACT’S BODY BOUNCES OFF OF THEM!



BAMA: Holy shi-



TODD: Folks, that could cause some serious spinal damage for anyone who has to take that impact! Tommy Wish showing off a bit of his merciless side here as he tries to take the fight to Larry Tact here!



Wish goes for the cover as he tells the referee to count!



ONE!















TWO!















KICKOUT!



TODD: Strong kickout there! I’m a bit amazed Tact didn’t take an early loss there!



BAMA: He’s focused on trying to make up for lost time after what happened on Warfare! He’s still in this, baby!



Tommy frowns as he gets back to his feet, before proceeding to throw each of the dented steel chairs onto Tact’s body! His body gets halfway buried between the harsh steel as he quickly looks to a nearby railing! Wish nods in excitement as he proceeds to start to climb up!



BAMA: Uh… that sounds like a good way to break both of their bodies, though. Can Tommy even balance himself on a thin railing like that?!



TODD: I think we’re about to find out, Bama…



Tommy walks along the railing, his arms practically flailing about with every step he takes. The loud cheers and stomping of boots against the ground clearly rattles Tommy though, as he has to pause and reposition himself on the railing! He’s trying not to fall over!



BUT THAT ALLOWS TACT TO COME OVER AND SMACK TOMMY WITH A STEEL CHAIR TO KNOCK HIM OFF THE RAILING! TOMMY CRASH-LANDS HARD ON THE OTHER SIDE ONTO THE GROUND!



Tact quickly starts climbing upwards to where Tommy fell, trying to quickly put him away, but he sees Tommy already starting to crawl away and trying to get back onto his feet! He’s sporting one hell of a bloody nose, but Tact stays on the pursuit after him!



TODD: It looks like they’re going closer to the stage here!



BAMA: Loooot of expensive stuff they could break here…



Just before they get out of the crowd though, Tommy manages to get back to his feet, snatching a nearby drink from a fan as he swirls to throw it at Tact!



BUT TACT DUCKS! AND HE PULLS WISH IN FOR A SHORT-ARM CLOTHESLINE!



BAMA: You know what they say: ‘Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice…’



TODD: Tact showing off that IQ again as he manages to avoid danger there, but Tommy already feeling the impact there.



Tact shakes the fan’s hand who had her drink stolen from her, deeply apologizing to her as he points towards one of the nearby food carts up further in the stands! It looks like he’s offering her a free refill as the fans pop huge for the display of generosity!



Wish manages to come alive though, hitting Tact with a big forearm over his back, and the two of them are brawling towards the side of the stage! Rights and lefts are being exchanged, coming now towards the production equipment as Tact forces Wish off of him with a strong overhand right! Wish goes sailing back, his back turned to Tact as Tact sees his opportunity!



Tact pulls off a cord from the nearby production desk… AND HE STRANGLES IT AROUND WISH’S NECK! WHILE USING IT TO HELP CINCH IN A COBRA CLUTCH!



TODD: Tact telling Wish to Tactilize Yourself! He’s trying to make a statement with this submission hold, and the longer Wish doesn’t tap out here, the more he’s gambling with his life!



BAMA: Is it gonna be tap, nap or snap?! We’re about to find out!



Wish is wheezing! He’s turning red in the face! He’s trying to reach for salvation! Tact keeps the hold applied! Wish starts gaining some ground, but the cord can only go so far! It acts as a leash around Wish’s neck to keep him pinned!



He’s clawing at the hold! His red face is turning to blue! The referee is asking if he wants to submit!



Wish is fading as he slumps over to the ground…



ONLY TO RISE UP AND CLOBBER TACT OVER THE HEAD WITH A KENDO STICK!



TODD: How the hell did a Kendo Stick find its way over to production?!



BAMA: I don’t think we even wanna know, but that’s like a gift from God Himself for Tommy Wish!



Tact stumbles backwards, trying to keep the hold applied! But Wish whacks him again! He brings himself upwards, wrapping his arm behind Tact as he brings the kendo stick up! Both men are looking for their signature moves…



BUT TOMMY WISH HITS A KENDO-ASSISTED RUSSIAN LEG SWEEP TO TACT THROUGH THE PRODUCTION TABL-































































Silence reigns on the broadcast feed.































































Anarchy comes back to life, with both Tact and Wish downed within the wreckage of the production table.



TODD: -esting, testing! Bama, I think we’re back on the air!



BAMA: I was starting to get scared at this rate! Both these guys just took the entire show down!



TODD: Wish had to dig deep in order to hit that T-Russian Sweeper while being told to Tactilize Yourself, but it paid off in dividends. Both of these men have beaten the Hell out of each other in this sprint of a match, but if any of them can find the strength to get up first, they’re going to have the advantage here!



BAMA: They’re both stirring! Who’s it going to be, Todd?!



IT’S LARRY TACT!



He rises first, groggy and dazed, but as he reaches his feet he stares down at Tommy Wish, who is still stirring in the wreckage.



Larry Tact grabs Tommy Wish by the scruff of his neck, before positioning him for a Torture Rack Spinout Powerbomb!



TACT EXECUTES!





BAMA T: TACTILIZER! TACTILIZER! TACT JUST HIT A TACTILIZER!



TODD: Oh Bama’, this one’s over!



Larry Tact falls directly atop Tommy after pulling off The Tactilizer! The referee counts the pin!





1!







2!!









3!!!





Winner by Pinfall – Larry Tact








[Image: wireline.png]
















The first, frenetic strums of Faith No More's "Gentle Art of Making Enemies" rips through the arena as strobes of gold and white cast across the stage and crowd. After several moments, and then a few more for good measure, Kieran King eventually saunters onto the stage, smugly mugging for the audience while the Universal Championship rests upon his waist. In a flash, he sprints towards the ring and glides underneath the bottom rope - practically hovering off the mat. Keeping his momentum going, King darts towards the corner post and leaps towards the top. He crouches, and throws his arms up and back as if to backflip off the top... only to pull out at the last minute. He laughs at the crowd, mocking them as he settles in to some pre-match stretches.



BAMA T: And here comes the Undisputed KING of the Universe! The Universal Champion of the X-treme Wrestling Federation, the crusher of Revolutions and the overthrower of Corporations! KIERAN……KIIIIIIINNNGGGG!











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: Betsy Granger has her work cut out for her here tonight, but she looks up to the challenge! If there’s ANYONE, and I mean ANYONE who could pull off an upset against the freshly coronated King, it’s Betsy! She’s traveled universes far and wide, defeating some of the biggest names in the industry….and tonight, she’s looking to do it again!









KIERAN KING ©

- vs -

BETSY GRANGER



DA KING'S NON-TITLE RULEZ!





Before the bell can ring fully… Kieran King quickly slides under the ring to the outside?



TODD: What’s the King doing?



BAMA: Beats me, baby, but it looks like he’s comin’ over to the ring announcer?



Kieran points at the ring announcer, the two quickly exchanging a few hushed words. The ring announcer furrows his brow in confusion, but as Kieran repeats himself, he nods along before taking to the mic.



“Ladies and gentlemen… The King’s Rules-”



Kieran quickly forced a knowing glare his way which caused the ring announcer to have to catch himself.



“I mean… Da King’s Rulez shall be given on a need-to-know basis! First off, the King, Kieran King, has requested that his personal security guard be surrounding the ring at all times!”



BAMA: No way! This match just got turned into a lumberjack match!



TODD: Betsy’s beside herself! Kieran’s trying to screw her before the bell even rings!



BAMA: Guess that’s part of the power that comes with being King, huh, baby?



Kieran waits outside the ring as he watches his guard get into position along the ring. After exchanging a nod with Tommy Gunn on the outside, Kieran lets a smile come onto this face as he finally comes into the ring again.





DING! DING! DING!



TODD: And, well… we’re off. Controversial this match’s start might be, but it’s not going to change what’ll be happening here. Huge non-title match here for Betsy Granger looking to try and take it to Kieran King, both of these competitors looking to be Captains come War Games!



BAMA: Betsy’s got an uphill battle ahead of her, that’s for sure, baby. Kiki’s gonna try to keep the deck stacked right in his favor.



A collar-and-elbow tie-up quickly engages, with King managing to come out on top as he forces Betsy into the corner. As King pushes Betsy back further, the referee manages to break up the hold, but not before King WHALLOPS Betsy with a huge slap as they’re being broken up!



Betsy scowls, but immediately takes the fight to Kieran right after with a barrage of kicks being aimed right at his legs! Kieran’s having to turn mobile, trying to move out of the way, but one low roundhouse catches him right on the knee! Betsy moves it to a roundhouse to the ribs now, causing Kieran to double over! She moves right in…



Snapmare to the King! Kieran falls over, letting Betsy run off the ropes! BASEMENT DROPKICK TO THE CHIN!



Kieran looks like he’s taken a hard shot there, and he quickly finds himself rolling out of the ring to collect himself. Betsy follows after him, but clearly hesitates as she sees the hordes of henchmen outside.



TODD: Looks like the numbers disadvantage is finally starting to sink in for Betsy here, and at the worst timing, too.



BAMA: She can’t afford to let Kiki recover, though! It’s damned if she does, damned if she doesn’t!



Kieran sees his opportunity right after though, grinning while grabbing Betsy by the ankle and pulling her right outside of the ring!



Betsy manages to get to her feet, but the security guards are right there! They’re forcibly pulling her away from King before she can get a measure of payback! Betsy glares right at King’s deathly smug face, but with her limbs all restrained by the guards, she can only watch as King rises for a BUZZSAW KICK!



The referee looks to try and restore some order again! They quickly look to the outside of the ring and begin to count!



ONE!



TODD: Referee trying to do his job here, but King seems to look downright flabbergasted as he’s glaring back?



BAMA: Something tells me we’re about to see what the next ‘need-to-know’ rule is going to be out here…



TWO!



Kieran walks right over to the ring announcer again, relaying instructions as Betsy is forced down onto the ground!



THREE!



The ring announcer hesitantly nods to Kieran one more time before he picks up the mic again.



“Ladies and gentlemen… the next rule of ‘Da King’s Rulez’ has been revealed. It hereby states that there shall be NO count-outs or disqualifications in this match…”



BIG POP FROM THE CROWD!



“…for Kieran King only. Betsy Granger will still be affected by count-outs and disqualifications!”



THAT IMMEDIATELY TURNS TO BOOS!



TODD & BAMA: WHAT?!



Kieran chuckles as he immediately heads inside of the ring, bringing a steel chair with him! He immediately ignores Betsy as he sets up the chair inside of the ring and begins to lay back on it!



Betsy is still being swarmed by security at ringside! She’s trying to make her way back inside! The referee looks like he has no choice but to count!



THREE!

FOUR!



Kieran lazily checks his nails before deciding to get some shut-eye! But Betsy is trying her best to come back onto her feet against the sheer weight pushing against her!



FIVE!

SIX!



BETSY MAKES IT TO HER FEET! SHE’S TRYING TO SHOVE THE GUARDS OFF OF HER! A RIGHT HAND! AN UPPERCUT! A ROUNDHOUSE! SHE’S MANAGING TO SHAKE THEM OFF!



TODD: Look at her go! Betsy’s just a house on fire right now!



BAMA: She doesn’t have a lot of time before she gets counted out, though!



SEVEN!

EIGHT!



BETSY’S REALIZING THE COUNT! SHE’S GOING TO MOVE BACK INTO THE RING, BUT TOMMY GUNN TURNS HER AROUND INTO A HEAVY UPPERCUT!



NINE!



BUT BETSY RESPONDS WITH A ROUNDHOUSE TO THE SKULL THAT CLOBBERS HIM AS SHE SLIDES BACK INSIDE JUST IN TIME!



BAMA: If she took even a split second longer…



TODD: Betsy’s gotta look out though! King’s back on his feet!



KIERAN KING CLOBBERS BETSY GRANGER WITH THE STEEL CHAIR! He slams it over into her repeatedly, looking to try and keep her down for the count! The laziness act was just playing possum!



With Betsy softened up, Kieran takes the chance to lift Betsy up and plant her right back down with a BRAINBUSTERRRRRRRRRRRRR!



BAMA: He said, ‘F Ur Head!’



TODD: Betsy has so much to overcome! It’s bad enough stepping into the ring with Kieran King on any night of the week, but when he’s plotting the entire match and changing the stipulations when he feels like it…



Kieran with the cover!



ONE!














TWO!














KICKOUT!



BAMA: She’s still with it, though!



TODD: Have to wonder if she’s making a mistake or not here, though…



Kieran scoffs at Betsy, before he decides to go for the kill shot! He quickly scales the ropes, channeling the fans’ boos into extra energy as he proceeds to flip them off! He turns back to Betsy, sizing her up!



450 SPLASH!



ROLLED OUT OF THE WAY!



KIERAN HITS THE STEEL CHAIR UNDERNEATH AS HIS SKULL BOUNCES OFF!



TODD: NEVERMIND! KIERAN MISSED THE KING MAKER! THAT MIGHT HAVE JUST TURNED THE TIDE OF THIS MATCH!



BAMA: Kieran using that chair just came back to haunt him!



Kieran wearily pulls himself up, clearly dizzy from the shot to the skull, but Betsy sees her opportunity as she pulls herself up! She darts right in and hits a HURRICANRANA DRIVERRRRRRR! KING BOUNCES OFF THE MAT FROM THE PLANTE DE VISAGE AS THE FANS ARE ROARING IN ANTICIPATION!



BETSY MAKES HER WAY TO KIERAN’S LEGS AND PROCEEDS TO TIE THEM UP! AND SHE BRIDGES BACKWARDS AS KIERAN KING IS LOCKED IN THE CENTER OF THE RING!



TODD: BETSY CALLS THIS THE TUEZ LES ETOILES, AND IT’S LOCKED IN THE CENTER OF THE RING!



BAMA: Kiki might be about to call this the move he taps out to if Betsy keeps it locked in long enough!



KIERAN IS SCREAMING! HE’S DESPERATE TO ESCAPE! TO CLAW AGAINST THE RING CANVAS! HE CAN’T REACH THE ROPES THOUGH WITH BETSY’S BODY WEIGHT CONTORTED ON TOP OF HIM!



BUT HE HOLLERS FOR THE RING ANNOUNCER!



AND ALL OF A SUDDEN…



“Ladies and gentlemen… the next rule of ‘Da King’s Rulez’ has been revealed. It hereby states that there shall be NO submissions in this match!”



MORE BOOS RAIN DOWN FROM THE CROWD!



TODD: I don’t believe it, Bama! Betsy just had the Universal Champion dead-to-rights there!



BAMA: It’s gonna be on her to see if she can adapt, though! Come War Games, that’s what both of these guys are gonna have to do!



Betsy is forced to release the submission hold by the referee as she’s pissed off! She’s in his face, arguing! She glares at the ring announcer! But she has to turn her attention back to Kieran King as she runs in-



ONLY FOR KIERAN TO THROW A STEEL CHAIR RIGHT TO HER SKULL!



CRAAAAAAAAAAAACK!



BETSY STAGGERS BACK AS KIERAN MAKES HIS WAY BACK TO HIS FEET AND HE LEAPS INTO THE AIR!



COOOOOOOOOODEBREAKERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!



BAMA: Betsy might be Ugly on the Outside after that one, Todd!



TODD: I’m sick to my stomach, Bama.



BAMA: Pretty sure a lot of fans could say the same, right about now.



KIERAN HOOKS THE LEG AS THE REF COUNTS!



ONE!


















TWO!


















THREE!





WINNER: KIERAN KING!





Kieran King comes back right onto his feet, hands raised high in the air as he flashes a cheesy grin and a thumbs-up to the camera, basking in the boos and hatred that the crowd has to offer to their King.



TODD: I think we can all agree that this isn’t over, though. These two are going to be facing off alongside all the other War Games captains come Spooky Savage, and you better bet that Betsy Granger will be looking for some retribution there!



BAMA: Hoo boy… I can’t wait! One person’s gonna be drowning to death and y’all are gonna have to find out who the unlucky SOB is!



TODD: …You really gotta say it like that, Bama?



Anarchy fades to commercial as the show rolls on.





[b][b][b][Image: wireline.png][/b][/b][/b]






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.









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 arena. The tires squeal as it barrels down the ramp. 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. 



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 outskirts of the ring, hyped up, high octane energy, tagging hands. She stops at a child in the front row and slides her sunshades on their eyes, then, in unison with them, yells "VROOM VROOM!" 



Cassidy climbs onto the apron, 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. 











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 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. He then proceeds to get to a neutral corner and wait for the contest to begin.



BAMA: Oh man, a lot going on with this one!



TODD: You said it, Bama. For starters, we’ve got the brand spanking new and already impressive Clutch Cassidy in only her second match and Kristoffer Arroyo making his big debut!



BAMA: On top of that we’ve got the brewing drama between Revolution champ XXXVI and Anarchy mainstay Summer Page and TODD, Summer has made it VERY clear she wants what XXXVI has got!



TODD: So many elements colliding in this ring tonight folks! And that’s not even touching the wide range of personalities, from, well, the spoiled, to the energetic to the enigmatic to the downright creepy! This match has it all! And we’re kicking it off, right now!











XXXVI © & CLUTCH CASSIDY

- vs -

SUMMER PAGE & KRISTOFFER 'VAMP' ARROYO





CLASSIC TAG RULEZ!











The bell rings and both Summer Page and XXXVI come out of their respective corners, which draws a pop from the crowd! Summer wastes no time taking it to XXXVI, who to his credit is able to fight back with equal fortitude. The action between them is pretty back and forth until XXXVI gets into the rival corner and Kris Arroyo tags the champ with a brutal cheap shot elbow to the back of the head! Summer, who may not have even seen it, takes advantage by hitting the champ with the “1999” Impaler DDT. She covers!



1….





2…..NO! XXXVI raises the shoulder!



TODD: Summer almost pinned the champ yet again!



BAMA: You’re right Todd, and if she had she would have guaranteed her title shot for sure!



Clutch is fighting like mad trying to get her partner to make the tag, but Summer drags her rival to the middle of the ring and tags in Vamp. Vamp immediately sets in with some devastating strikes but eventually….lets XXXVI go and beckons Clutch to enter?!



BAMA: Summer not looking happy about her partners tactics!



XXXVI hits the tag and Clutch enters like a house of fire, hitting Vamp with leaping lariat followed by leaping lariat capping things off with a Nitro Kick into a cover on Arroyo!



1….





2….NOPE! Arroyo kicks out!



TODD: But wait!



As Arroyo kicks out, he grabs the back of Clutch’s head and starts biting her neck! The ref finally intervenes and forces Arroyo to stop, but he’s drawn blood! Clutch looks equal parts grossed out and enraged, but before she can go back on the attack Vamp tags Summer back in.



Summer and Clutch trade blows and eventually Clutch gets the advantage, tossing Summer around with her Gear Shift series of suplexes. Clutch covers Summer.



1….Arroyo dashes in the ring and breaks up the count!



BAMA: Vamp seems to be trying to get in Clutch’s head here. Or maybe he just has a crush!



TODD: I’m not sure he swings that way, partner….



Clutch ties Summer up in an armlock after the ref forces Vamp out of the ring and tags XXXVI back in. XXXVI continues the attack on Summer, and despite Summer showing some counterattack XXXVI quickly shuts her back down with a spinning backfist followed by a crowd pleasing springboard moonsault into a cover on Summer.



1….





2….







3….NO! Summer kicks out!



TODD: That was a close one though.



XXXVI picks Summer up and goes back on the attack, but Summer counters from out of nowhere with a sit out jawbreaker and tags Arroyo back in! But instead of going on the attack against XXXVI, Arroyo rushes to his opponent’s corner and knocks Clutch off the ring apron!



TODD: Another cheap shot from the purported vampire!



Clutch recovers quickly and scrambles into the ring, looking for revenge on Arroyo, but the ref forces her back out. Meanwhile, with the ref distracted, Arroyo hits a dirty low blow on the champion and he goes down. Arroyo covers!



1…..





2……XXXVI rolls the shoulder up!



Vamp continues the punishment on XXXVI until….he again just stops and throws XXXVI into Clutch’s corner, wanting her to tag in. Clutch does so eagerly and throws herself at Vamp, but this time she’s a little too eager and Vamp gets the advantage, nailing with the Teatro Grottesco series of knee lifts before pinning her.





1….





2…..







3…NO! Clutch kicks out!



Clutch is wounded but livid now, fighting out of the pin and to a vertical position where she and Vamp trade frenetic blows. Clutch starts to get an advantage but just as she does so Vamp tags Summer back in. Summer takes the fight to Clutch but with an eye towards XXXVI.



BAMA: You getting the sense she’d rather be in the ring with someone else?



TODD: Indeed I am, and it looks like it’s about to happen!



Clutch tags XXXVI in and Summer and the champion meet in the center of the ring. The action is very even for a time, until XXXVI is able to hit a decisive superkick on Summer! But just after he does so, he turns towards Vamp who chops him in the throat. The ref misses it and XXXVI runs back into Summer who nails him with a desperation “Pure Perfection” Perfectplex bridged right into a pin!



1….







2…..





3….!





Winners by Pinfall - "Spoiled" Summer Page & Kristoffer "Vamp" Arroyo




Summer rolls off XXXVI with a huge smile on her face as Clutch immediately bounds into the ring looking to go after Arroyo! But Arroyo drops down to the floor and blows her a kiss as he saunters to the back!



TODD: What a match! But instead the odd couple tag team of Summer Page and Kris Arroyo pick up the win.



BAMA: But what a story too! Vamp sure revealed his true colors in this match pulling out every dirty trick in the book. Meanwhile Summer Page has to have cemented her Revolution title match against XXXVI by pinning him again, even if it was under some dubious circumstances.



TODD: Don’t go anywhere folks, our main event is up next!









[b][b][Image: wireline.png][/b][/b]




TODD: Folks, it’s the end of an Era tonight! After a 382 day reign, ‘Micheal Graves’ has vacated the Anarchy Title due to a concussion in his last title defense… But, the end of one era means the start of another! And two people are eager to take this unique opportunity to become the new face of Thursday Night Anarchy!



BAMA: You ain’ kiddin’, Toddrick! Not only are these two hungry to become the top champ of the A-Show… they also seem to have a bit of beef with one another!







The honeyed rasp of Atara's voice blares over the facility's PA in unison with those words appearing on the multitude of screens and displays littering the arena.



HELLO DOVES



The crowd pops and gets to their feet shouting in near total unison a single word.



OPA!



TODD: Atara Raven! The Number One Contender to the Anarchy Title! She scored a shocking win over two very game competitors at Relentless in Amber Mansley and Larry Tact!



BAMA: Sho nuff! Mrs. James Raven feels like she’s turned a major corner in recent weeks! She’s been steppin’ that game up! You can feel the excitement in the air! Can Atara Raven score the top title on the Blue Brand?



TODD: She just might… if she can find a way to beat her opponent tonight…



Arena lights start to pulse in time with the music and multiple vertical streams of pyro erupt across the front of stage. Strutting with purpose, Atara emerges from the back taking spot centerstage atop the ramp. Posing for the camera, a wink and kiss is given to the viewers at home.



Grunge walking to the ringsteps, she climbs and stops at the top to posture again for her adoring public. Hand on her hip, the Grecian moves to the middle of the apron to blows a final kiss to the camera and enters the ring through the middle rope.



…







"Gored" by Loathe plays throughout the arena. The lights go out. Once the beat drops, a spotlight shines on the entryway, where Solomon appears inside the light, clad in a black hoodie over his ring gear and a ski mask, kneeling on his right knee. As the lyrics come in, he stands, removes his hood and surveys the crowd as sparks rain down around him. 



TODD: And here he is! The latest addition to the Corporation’s ranks… ‘Psycho’ Solomon! The man who betrayed his mentor Blizzard at Relentless! Mrs. James Raven, having just joined the Tribe a few weeks prior to Relentless, dashed to the ring to try and make the save for Blizz… but the rest of the Corporation held her back and forced her to watch as the ‘Psycho’ rained blows down on the skull of Aidan Collins!



BAMA: In Kline’s defense… he doesn’t dislike Atty! A few weeks ago, Kline came and provided backup when Atty wrestled Oz! He just needed to break off with Blizz! He said in his promo, he still respects the hell outta Atty! That he and Atty should still be besties!



TODD: …Bama, I will repeat. He PUMMELED Blizz… one of Atty’s husband’s dearest friends! While Atty was held back and forced to watch!



BAMA: …Ok, I will change defense tactics. In the Tribe, Kline was third banana! As a member of the Corporation? He’s the Crown Jewel! He’s the Chosen Son! He demanded a chance to compete against Atara Raven for the vacant Anarchy championship… And he got it! Was he getting these opportunities *before*, when he was in the Tribe? Hell no!



TODD: Kline certainly slid straight into this title opportunity against Atara! He seems to be of the belief that this is his moment! This is his chance to become the face of Thursday Nights, the same brand that his father Crimson Kline was once the General Manager of! But, in Atty’s eyes, you can see a hunger for vengeance! A thirst to avenge Kline’s betrayal against The Tribe!


Solomon slowly makes his way toward the ring, sneering at fans along the way. He circles the ring and slides under the bottom rope. He peers out at the crowd in the middle of the ring through his ski mask. He flips off the people in the crowd, making sure to show hate to each side of the ring equally.

He then readies himself for the match, feeling pity for those who have to face him.

...


The crowd is molten hot before the bell even rings.



…Before the bell rings, these two stand opposite each-other, eagerly awaiting the bell to ring… ‘Psycho’ dons a sinister, wide smile, muttering something to Atara the audio doesn’t quite pick up… Atty is stoic, her expression doesn’t change… but her fists visibly tighten…



BAMA: Kline referred to tonight as ‘win-win’ for him… In that he doesn’t mind if he takes the win OR Atty does… But he also said he won’t be denied!



TODD: Meanwhile, Atara considered two champions of her past and which she’d channel: The Engineer, and embrace a godhood of destruction… Or ALIAS, the Eater of Worlds! And the uprooter of Evil on Anarchy!



BAMA: I mean… if she can channel one IOTA of either of those guys, I like her chances!



TODD: The remnants of The Tribe collide tonight! And one of them is walking out the new Anarchy champion!











ATARA RAVEN

- vs -

'PSYCHO' SOLOMON



ANARCHY TITLE MATCH!







HIGHLIGHT REEL




The moment before the bell rings, Kline dives forward, looking for an axe handle!



TODD: Kline jumps the gun! Kline goes to attack Atty before the bell has even rung! Whaat a dirty play!



BAMA: But he still respects the hell outta her!



TODD: Bama, come off it!



Solomon’s fists swing down!



…But Atara circle-steps, peppering Solomon with snapping pankration jabs! She catches Kline twice in the jaw… He staggers back, using the momentum from the strikes… And he swings wild with a clothesline!



But Atty ducks under and peppers the ribs with body shots. The crowd roars as she strings strikes together like a boxer!



TODD: Atara Raven looks DIALED IN! I think acting as guest referee and watching Matt Knox and SEB trade kicks gave her an appreciate for racking up strike counts!



…Kline drops his guard as Atty hops in.



WHAM! He eats a clean jab to the chin… And wraps his arms around Raven, manhandling her, flipping her around into a waistlock..



Then  suddenly launches her across the ring with a German suplex!



Atty lands her hard on the back of her neck, near the corner!



TODD: WOW! Kline decided to just eat a handful of strikes if it meant grappling Atty and hucking her like a Scottish caber!



BAMA: That’s the ‘Psycho’ in action! Willing to eat the hurt if he can inflict it even worse on his opponent!





TODD: Kline’s been physically punishing Atty with strikes…



BAMA: And it looks like he’s aiming to clock out early and take the Anarchy title with him!



Atty cradling her gut as she smashes her fist against the mat, determined to stay in this thing…



Meanwhile, on the other side of the ring… Kline is setup like a linebacker ready to make a SACK!



Atty turns around…



Kline rushes in!



SPEAR!



…



NO! Atty leapfrogs up and over! Doing a toe-touch as she leaps!



TODD: WOW! Look at the athleticism on display by Aphrodite Incarnate!



Kline drives his own face into the middle turnbuckle!



TODD: And ‘Psycho’ gets psyched out!



…Kline dizzily retracts his head from the turnbuckle…



As Atty spins around, catching him under the arm…



PICTURE-PERFECT BIRTH OF VENUS SUPLEX!



Atty pops up, hair flying, rallying the crowd with a belly dance flutter and an...



OPA!



OPAAAAAAAAAAA!



TODD: Atty revelling turning this match around with the crowd… Though maybe she should save the dancing until AFTER she’s secured the belt!



Atty turns to cover Kline…



But Solomon rolls to the outside clutching his lower back!





BAMA: Kline’s managed to keep his distance from Atty on the outside…



TODD: But Atty remains in hot pursuit!



Kline retreats, holding his gut, still shaking off Atty’s devastating suplex… But Atty manages to close the distance with a jog…



TODD: Reminder, folks, no double count-outs here! Tonight, we will have ONE winner! ONE new champion!



Kline ducks around the corner, dipping below the apron!



Atty grabs the turnbuckle pole, looking to pick up speed to catch h-



SUPERKICK!



Kline from the padded concrete, obscured by the apron, catches Atty as she turns the corner with a kick to the skull!



Atty drops straight onto her back outside!



The official barks ordering Kline and Atty back into the ring… but instead, Kline grabs Atty HARD by the hair… heaving her off the ground…



And CHUNKING her into the steel steps!



Atty cradles her back, looking agonized!





TODD: They’ve gotten back inside the ring… and it looks Kline looks like he’s ready to put it away here…



Kline sets Atty up, sitting on her back while standing, trying to set up for the Dust to Dust (Vertebreaker)...



But Atty shoves Kline into the ropes from behind! Kline rebounds, as Atty leaps for a…



JUDGMENT OF PARIS KNEE STRIKE!



…But Kline clings onto the ropes behind him!



Atty’s leap ends up with her landing on her feet…



And that’s when Kline charges forward with a…



ASHES TO ASHES! (Pop-up Forearm Smash!)



TODD: Ashes to Ashes! This could be it! New Anarchy champion!



BAMA: The house always wins!



Atty collapses onto her back as Kline falls forward on top of her!



The official counts!



ONE!



TWO!



THRE-NO! Atty forces the shoulder up!





Solomon scoops Atty up by the scruff of the neck… She heaves exhaustedly on her knees, looking spent…



TODD: How the Hell is Atty still in this thing? Kline’s given her everything he’s can and she’s still finding the fuel to keep going!



BAMA: He’s about to snuff out her candle right here, Toddy baby!



Solomon again, sets up Atty into Dust to Dust position… he wraps one arm! Then, the other!



…



But in a flash, Atty scoops to the mat, wrapping her legs around Kline’s! Trying to bring him to the mat!



TODD: Atty’s pulling one last counter! Aphrodite’s Duality!



As Atty tries to force Kline onto his back to secure her Banana-Split style leg submission, ‘Psycho’ manages to claw his way forward… and clinch onto the ropes!



BAMA: Phew… see! That’s what makes Kline worthy of the Anarchy Title! He’s got the survival instincts of a champion!



Atty refuses to break the hold, desperately trying to break his grip, tearing him away from the ropes!



Kline throws a desperation elbow backwards!



Atty staggers against the ropes… As Kline charges forward!



…But Atty rebounds off the ropes!



JUDGMENT OF PARIS KNEE STRIKE!



TODD: OH MY GOD! FROM OUTTA NOWHERE! We’re gonna have a new Anarchy champion!



BAMA: No! NO!



Kline hits the mat…



As Atty collapses beside him… She slowly extends an arm over ‘Psycho’’s fallen body!



The official counts…



ONE!



TWO!



THRE-NOOOOOOOOOOOO! ‘PSYCHO’ throws a shoulder off the mat!





THE THRILLING CONCLUSION




TODD: These two have put everything… EVERYTHING they have into this match!



BAMA: But only one’s walking out with a belt, Toddrick!



Both competitors stagger to their feet, exhausted, sweat pouring…



Sol strikes first, hitting Atty with a…



FOREARM SMASH!



…Atty tilts backward… but stays upright!



She retaliates with a…Pankration straight right!



Kline takes it on the chin! He counters with a…



BOOT to the midsection! Atty doubles over… onto one knee.



Kline backs up into the ropes…



Setting up for a running boot!



…But Atty’s ready! She leaps into the air! Looking for a…



JUDGMENT OF PARIS!



…But Kline’s ready for Atty being ready!, catching her in the air on his shoulders!



TODD: Oh no! We saw Kline pull this on Barney Green on Warfare! The Psycho Driver!



Kline hoists Atty up for…



THE PSYCHO DRIVER!



…



But Atty drops off the back as he lifts!



And She wraps around his legs! Forcing him onto his back!



APHRODITE’S DUALITY! DEAD CENTER OF THE RING!



TODD: Wow! What a counter by Atty! She’s got Kline locked into Aphrodite’s Duality!



BAMA: Fight out, ‘Psycho’!



Solomon desperately reaches… He stretches, desperately trying to claw for the ropes!



But Atty holds him back, cranking his legs apart with all she’s got!



Kline… reaches!



DESPERATELY!



…



….



BUT THE PAIN IS TOO MUCH!



Kline taps out!



WINNER AND NEEEEEEEEEEEEW XWF ANARCHY CHAMPION: ATARA RAVEN!




TODD: Oh my GOD! These two waged an absolute war! Neither of these competitors may ever be the same… Solomon Kline pulled out every stop! He showed a whole new level of brutality he was willing to unleash!



But Atara Raven would not be denied! She promised Kline’s story would end in tragedy and she delivered on that promise tonight! And she is YOUR NEW ANARCHY CHAMPION!



The confetti is still falling after Atara Raven’s championship win when suddenly the lights dim. The stage lights up with blue spotlights, and the new General Manager of Anarchy steps out, microphone in hand, smirk plastered on his face. His first Anarchy is in the books, and he looks damn proud of himself as he brings a microphone to his lips.



“Ladies and gentlemen… I did it! My first Anarchy. My first night in charge. And look at it—look at what Big Dick Lichter built! Gold on the waist of a champion, ratings through the roof, and a locker room trembling in respect… or fear. Either one works for me, honstely.”



He smirks, pointing to the ring where Atara holds the Anarchy Championship high.



“Atara Raven. Take a bow, sweetheart. You are the face of Anarchy now. You are the gold standard, the flagship, the ALPHA PUSSY of this brand. And ‘Big’ Dick says that with nothing but admiration, trust me. You’ve clawed your way to the top, and you did it on my night. You made my debut look legendary.”



The crowd cheers for Atara as Lichter begins pacing, enjoying his own voice more than the reaction.



“But that means something now. You carry MY title now, and that comes with the responsibility of representing my brand in the PROPER manner. You don’t just hold a belt, Atara: you hold my reputation. Every win you get makes me look bigger. Every loss you take… makes me look smaller. And if there’s one thing Big Dick Lichter can’t stand, it’s feeling small!”



He grins, pausing to let the innuendo breathe as the crowd hoots and jeers.



“Now, I know about your coming match on Warfare. I know about Centurion. I know about that shiny little X-Treme Championship. If you bring that belt back home to Anarchy, Atara: then you’ll become a hero. You’ll be Atty Two-Belts. You’ll be the savior of this show, the Alpha Pussy who proved that Anarchy’s got the biggest pair in the business!”



His expression suddenly turns darker. The smile stays, but it gets sharper.



“But if you lose? If you walk into that other locker room and let those Warfare rejects embarrass me? Well….let’s just say Big Dick Lichter doesn’t handle frustration quietly. When I get disappointed, baby, the whole building shakes. And trust me, you don’t wanna find out what happens when Big Dick gets hard to please.”



He licks his lips, adjusting his tie as he raises his microphone one last time, staring directly into the eyes of the new Anarchy champion.



“This is my show now, Atara. My brand. My Anarchy. And as long as I’m in charge, you’ll do well to remember one thing…Big Dick Lichter always finishes on top!”



He drops the mic. The crowd explodes with boos as he turns, pointing at Atara in the ring while mouthing the words ‘Don’t disappoint me’. The camera lingers on his smirk and the gold on her shoulder before the feed fades to black.





So many thanks to our



MATCH & Segment WRITERS

Liam Desmond (legit, he carried a heavy load this show- no diddy)



Kieran King (omg Da King!!!)



Pedro Principale



John Black



Twilight Arroyo



AND EVERYYONE WHO RP’D!
]]> <![CDATA[ANARCHY - 9/4/25]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=49258 Fri, 05 Sep 2025 14:37:22 -0700 Peter Principle]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=49258

THE ‘GO HOME’ SHOW FOR RELENTLESS IX
[Image: vuE1ZV0.png]
09 - 04 - 2025

LIVE! FROM THE GATEWAY CENTER ARENA

COLLEGE PARK, GEORGIA




AMBER MANSLEY
- vs -
RAZOR BLADE

Singles


[Image: wireline.png]




SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
MARISOL VILARO
- vs -
XXXVI

Triple Threat


[Image: wireline.png]




LARRY TACT
- vs -
P.V.E.

Singles


[Image: wireline.png]




ATARA RAVEN
- vs -
MR. OZ (with Thias Watts at ringside)

Singles w/Valet


[Image: wireline.png]




CELESTINE GALE
- vs -
REGGIE ESTRADA

Singles


[Image: wireline.png]



Tag-Team X-treme Rules Match

DARREN DANGEROUS © & CENTURION
- vs -
DA BING BONG TWINZZZ

If Da Bing Bong Twinz win, they get a future Anarchy tag title match! If Darren takes the pin, the 24/7 title will change hands!

Xtreme Rules
2 RPs per Team @ 1K only


[Image: wireline.png]





"ALLEGEDLY" MICHEAL GRAVES©
- vs -
COREY SMITH

Non-title Match
Pure Wrestling Rules



TODD: Welcome one, welcome all to the biggest Thursday Night Anarchy of the year! We are just a stone’s throw away from Relentless, and boy oh boy do we have a show for you tonight!

BAMA: That’s right, Todd! We get to see everyone’s favorite XWF stars, live in action! Who will win, and who will lose? Who’s going to ride into Relentless on a wave of momentum, and who’s going to crash and burn before we even get to Miami?! We’re going to find out here tonight in College Park, Georgia!

TODD: Tonight’s show is highlighted by a HUGE Main Event match-up! We have XWF Legend Corey Smith, squaring off one-on-one in a “Pure Wrestling Rules” match against the XWF Anarchy Champion, Micheal Graves!

BAMA: Allegedly!

TODD: But that’s not all! We also have the X-treme Champion, Darren Dangerous, in action tonight! He will be teaming up alongside the returning Centurion in our co-main event!

BAMA: And don’t forget about that huge matchup between Oz and Atty!

TODD: We also have THREE members of The Black Rainbow scheduled to perform! Will their underhanded tactics usher them to dominance on tonight’s Anarchy, or will the XWF roster overcome the spiral?


BAMA: Damn it Todd, we have it all for our fans tonight! I heard we’re even going to get a special, 1-on-1 interview between Steve Sayors and the Acting General Manager of Warfare! I think tonight’s shaping up to be one of the most X-treme Thursdays OF ALL TIME!

TODD: So stick close to your TVs, folks, because tonight’s card is loaded with action you just won’t want to miss!

[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: For our opener tonight, the ring is about to be overflowing with personality!

BAMA: Yep! We got a hothead with a short fuse sharing the ring against an… in-floo-en-ser! All the ingredients are here for something explosive!



''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.[/font][/size][/align]

ANARCHY: What?!? No freaking way! Is he here? Is Razor Blade in the building?!?

TODD: …Did you say something Bama?

BAMA: Wasn’t me. But I heard it too.

TODD: …Weird high-pitched… Like a spirit or a… What would you describe it as.

BAMA: Like the… show itself was speaking for a moment?

Smoke emanated from the stage, 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.

TODD: Regardless. Razor Blade is in the building! He’s had his highs and lows this year, but he secured a very impressive win on Warfare over his longtime teammate Latoya Hixx!

BAMA: Razor’s got all the pieces in place to make major moves on Anarchy! He just needs a little refinement! A touch of control to cool his temper!

TODD: It’s true, Bama! The most he looked in control was in victory against Hixx! Can he do the same tonight?

''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 suits as he knelt down, tapping the ramp with his fist, jumping up to his feet as he extended his arms out.

JC: The American Storm has been teaming together in the XWF for over a year! But never before have they faced off one-on-one! Mano a mano!

BG: Phew, finally, Jackie, you’re making sense! Yes, Blade and Hixx have been on the same side of the ring many times… But what’ll happen when they go head-to-head!

''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 down the ramp, high fiving members of the crowd in the front row before going over and doing the same thing on the other side of the ramp. Razor walked down the rest of ]the ramp, stopping at the end of it as he looked around before walking towards the steel steps. He glanced down at them, before tapping them with his hand as he raised his arms trying to pump up the crowd before walking up the steel steps as he scaled the turnbuckle, looking around before extending his arms as even more pyro went off on the stage. Razor hopped down into the ring.


…

“Break It Down” by Lil Debbie plays the venue’s interior surround systems. The audience immediately boos the young athlete coming out from the backstage area smiling at the hatred she receives. Amber stands center stage with her hands on her hips, staring out to the audience before doing a slow twirl where a spotlight shines only on her, creating the illusion of a silhouette. Once she faces the audience again, she snaps her fingers, and the lights return to normal before strutting down to the ring like on a model’s runway.

ANNOUNCER: "Introducing on her way to the ring! Hailing from Boca Raton, Florida! At five feet, seven inches tall, weighing in at 143 pounds! She is “The Influence” Amber Mansley!

TODD: And here she is! ‘The Influence’ Amber Mansley!

BAMA: @AmberInfluence on the ol’ X.com! She’s declared herself The Name! That she IS the Anarchy brand!

TODD: She also declared that, if it were up to her, she’d… BURY Razor.

BAMA: And not in a dirt sheets kinda way, like… BURY him alive!

TODD: Strong words for sure, Bama! But can she back them up? We’re about to find out in her Anarchy debut tonight!

Amber stops before the apron facing the ring, then looks both ways at the fans at ringside booing her. She gently leans over the apron, shrugs her shoulders, and then kisses the camera. Amber holds onto the bottom rope with both hands before spinning herself into the ring, lying on the canvas in the center. The camera transitions to a sky-view with a single spotlight on her in the arena, and from the camera’s point of view, it looks like an artwork of Amber in a silhouette fashion. She gets back on her feet, snaps her finger to alert production to brighten the lights, and silences her music as she takes refuge in a corner, kicking her body up on the top rope to relax.

The competitors emerge from their corners and meet in the center of the ring.

The official signals to the timekeeper!

DING DING

AMBER MANSLEY
- vs -
RAZOR BLADE

Singles


BAMA: It’s the dawn of a new age, Toddrick! Amber Mansley is on Thursday nights, and suddenly Anarchy feels like its chockful of Star Power! INFLUENCE!

TODD: She’s definitely got the attitude part down! But she’s gotta back it up in the ring with Razor Blade!

Amber circles Razor, smirking, holding her hands out like she wants to lockup with Razor.

Razor, hot-tempered, charges in with a lock-up.

TODD: Starting off with a collar-and-elbow tie-up here… A little catch-as-catch-can!

Razor surges forward for the grapple!

…But Amber immediately slips under, spins behind, and back-handed SMACKS the back of Razor’s skull.

BAMA: HA! Look at that, already embarrassing the boy. That’s called control, Toddrick!

TODD: I call it poor sportsmanship!

BAMA: Know what else that’s called? IN-FLOO-ENCE!

TODD: …Bama, I’m starting to think you don’t know what ‘influence’ means.

Razor scowls, rubbing the back of his head in disbelief for Mansley’s audacity as Amber turns away from her opponent, circling the ring and blowing kisses for the arena. They rain down boos upon her! Again, she smiles and shrugs, like it’s all attention to her.

…Razor snorts furiously, spinning on his opponent, charging in again! Amber raises her arms like she’s ready for another grapple…

…but, at the last moment, Amber sidesteps, tripping Razor by the ankle!

Razor hits the mat face-first! He quickly rolls onto his back, ready to defend a possible mount!

…But, no, Mansley’s back to posing for the crowd with a mock influencer selfie gesture…

…Wait, no, that’s not pantomime, she’s actually taking a selfie with the booing crowd behind her.

TODD: …Mansley’s… REALLY taking her time, showing everyone she’s got confidence… maybe too much.

BAMA: And these people can’t complain, Toddrick! That just means they get more sweet, sweet minutes watching Amber Mansley on their screens!

TODD: I think booing falls under the umbrella of complaining, Bama!

Razor furiously raises up off the mat!

In a flash, Amber drops her phone as she sees the American Nightmare coming at her! Razor goes for a…

BIONIC ELBOW!

…But Amber ducks under! Razor’s arm shoots by… and Amber catches him as she rises from the duck with a…

SHARP ELBOW TO THE HEAD!

Razor staggers back into the corner…

Amber climbs up to the second rope with agility…

And starts delivering RAPID-FIRE corner knees to the head and body!

AMBER’S TREND!

TODD: Ooooh, finally seeing some of Amber’s wrestling ability! Those corner knees will sap the life out of any opponent!

Razor finally raises his arm in a guard position, preventing the flow of knees straight to his temples and chest.

Amber replies by latching onto his raised arm and dragging him back toward the center of the ring. Mansley whips Razor towards herself… She turns!

SPINNING BACK FIST!

Razor catches it on the side of the head, spinning in place!

As he spins, Amber wraps her arms around his waist!

GERMAN SUPLEX!

TODD: She calls that sequence, ‘Stay Mad!’

BAMA: And these people can stay mad all they like, Todd! Because their booing? Means Amber is influencing them!

TOD: …Sure, arguably, fine.

Amber clings onto the bridge! Razor’s shoulders are against the mat!

The official drops to count!

ONE!

TWO!

THR-Razor kicks out!


Amber sits up from the German suplex bridge, and looks straight at the hard cam. She points at Razor on the mat, delivers a thumbs-down at the camera, then blows it a kiss.

TODD: Lot of showboating from Amber Mansley here! If she’s not careful, she might give Razor a window for a comeback!

BAMA: You don’t get #CONTENT, Toddrick. Each of these moments is BOUND to go ULTRA-MEGA-VIRAL! More eyes on the XWF! I hope this match NEVER ends!

…Razor slowly rises to his feet. Amber sees it coming because she’s checking her hair in the camera and sees Razor behind her…

She shoots over, grabbing Razor by the skull, spins him in a little circle just to show she can…

Then suddenly latches on a front-face lock… Aaaaand

SNAP DDT!

…But, Instead of immediately covering, Mansley kips up and poses like she’s on a runway. The crowd boos loudly, which she soaks in with a sarcastic curtsy.

Amber saunters over, steps on Razor’s chest like a footstool, before leaning over the ropes at the crowd snapping pictures of her in the front row.

TODD: This is humiliation at this point. She’s trying to make a… highlight reel, not a wrestling match.

BAMA: The fact you’re so upset? Means Amber is WORKING. She IS the Anarchy brand!

…Razor sloooooowly rises up off his feet.

But Amber is communicating with the front row, giving them instructions on how to properly capture her in a photograph…

TODD: Uh oh! Amber can’t see Razor behind her! Too busy staring at the cameras on her!

Amber finally turns around…

Straight into Razor who whips her into a…

BOOM! Snap Powerslam!

Todd: “Whoa! Razor Blade turns it around just like that! He’s not done yet!”

Amber scrambles up, furious to be even briefly outshined…

But Razor meets her with a…

DROPKICK! Mansley gets sent her sprawling back to the corner!

But Blade charges, latching his arm around Mansley’s neck…

BULLDOG!

And Razor kips up, pounding his chest as the crowd cheers!

TODD: And in just a few short moves, Razor Blade has turned this around!

BAMA: How’s this punk gonna ruin a debut like this? This is AMBER MANSLEY’S moment!

TODD: And Razor might just be about to steal it!

Razor crawls over Mansley’s chest, hooking the leg!

The official counts!

ONE!

TWO!

THR-NO! Mansley forces a shoulder up!

Razor shakes his head, fires up the crowd, calling for the Blade Rose!

Amber shakes her head furiously, slowly rising back to her feet… As Blade creeps up from behind, latching on the guillotine hold!

BLADE RO-

…NO! Amber slips out, catching Razor in a hammerlock!

TODD: …Wow! Surprisingly technical counter by Mansley!

Amber grits her teeth as she suddenly shoves Razor toward the ropes! Razor goes sprawling forward, bounces off the ropes…

Straight into a BICYCLE KNEE from Amber Mansley!

BAMA: Slay Boo!

TODD: Yes, that is what that move is called!

BAMA: But, also, Amber, Slay, Boo!

Razor looks dazed and confused, his legs jelly under him… As Amber breaks into a sprint running past him, bounces off the ropes…

BOOM!

IT’S GIVING FINISHER (Springboard Forearm Smash!)

Razor crumples to the mat.

BAMA: It’s giving ‘This match is ovah!’ It’s giving ‘THE DAWN OF A DAY IN THE XWF’!

Amber hooks the leg, blows a kiss to the hard camera as the referee counts—

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

WINNER: AMBER MANSLEY


Amber poses with her hands up like she’s snapping selfies, mocking Razor as he rolls out clutching his jaw.

TODD: Amber Mansley with a dominant debut victory! Razor Blade gave her a scare, but she shut the door emphatically.

BAMA: Better get used to it, Toddrick! Amber Mansley’s here, and she ain’t going anywhere! Except the TOP![/blue]

[Image: wireline.png]





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. 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, outstreches 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.


TODD: It’s the ever-mysterious 36! One of the new fan favorites here on Thursday nights. The masked phenom has quickly catapulted himself up the Anarchy rankings, and is already slated to challenge Thunder Knuckles for the Revolution Championship at Relentless! Tonight’s triple threat is going to be a great chance for him to showcase his skills heading into that big-time matchup!

BAMA: TK told me backstage that he can’t wait to rip this freak’s mask off at Relentless!

TODD: Well Bama, that epic showdown is gonna have to wait: because tonight, 36 is taking on two gorgeous women at the same time!

BAMA: WOAH! Pause, Todd- what kind of show is this again?

TODD: It’s the Go-Home show to Relentless!






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.

BAMA: You were talking about fan favorites, Todd? Just listen to the roar of the crowd! They love them some “Spoiled” Summer Page- and frankly, I do too!

TODD: Summer Page certainly gets a reaction from our audience! But she’s going to need more than just devilishly good looks if she wants to walk away with the win here tonight.

BAMA: I heard a rumor that Summer Page has been “wrestling between the sheets” with former Universal Champion James Shark- and if that’s true, that means she might have a bunch of new tricks in her bag for this match!

TODD: Who told you that, Bama?! Summer has made it explicitly clear time and time again that there was NEVER anything between her and Shark! Who’s spreading these nasty rumors about Summer Page?

BAMA: Well….James Shark is!









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 match to begin.

TODD: What a grand entrance for Marisol Vilaro! But her grandiose sense of self has rubbed some people the wrong way.

BAMA: When you’re as rich and gorgeous as Marisol Vilaro- you should be allowed to do whatever you want!

TODD: Well Bama, she definitely agrees with you on that one! Maybe you should sign up to join VilaroFit, you’re already parroting her talking points!

BAMA: Do you really think she’d let me join?!




SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
MARISOL VILARO
- vs -
XXXVI




DING! DING! DING!


The bell rings and all three competitors circle each other warily in the center of the ring. XXXVI, draped in his mysterious attire, moves with cerebral precision. Summer Page adjusts her gear with practiced confidence, while Marisol Vilaro stretches against the ropes, her eyes calculating the worth of both opponents.

Summer and Marisol exchange a knowing glance, their falling out temporarily set aside as they recognize the threat posed by the masked high-flyer. XXXVI tilts his head, as if sensing their unspoken alliance, and he assumes a defensive crouch in the corner.

TODD: Uh oh, what’s going on here? It looks like Vilaro and Page have made some sort of deal!

BAMA: What’s going on is….I think Summer Page might be coming back to the #VilaroFit team! Maybe she struck a deal to get free admission to VilaroU!

Todd: Whatever the terms of their deal: they can’t be good for 36!

The action explodes when Summer and Marisol rush XXXVI simultaneously. The masked wrestler springs to life, ducking under Summer's attempted clothesline while catching Marisol with a lightning-quick dropkick that sends her stumbling backward. Summer spins around, only to eat a crisp superkick that echoes throughout the arena. XXXVI doesn't pause to admire his work, he just springs to the middle rope and launches himself backward with a beautiful moonsault onto both women!

TODD: 36 has just exploded out of the gates here! He’s taking the fight to both those women!

BAMA: Yeah, no wonder he wears a mask! The only thing he’s good at is beating up chicks! He’s probably warranted across the country for domestic battery!

All three competitors scatter and regroup. Summer rolls to the outside, clutching her jaw where the superkick connected, while Marisol pulls herself up using the ropes. XXXVI lands gracefully and moves to press his advantage, but Marisol is ready this time. She catches him with a knee to the midsection as he approaches, doubling him over.

"Come on, Summer!" Marisol calls out, temporarily putting aside their differences. "We can deal with each other after we handle him!"

Summer slides back into the ring, and the temporary alliance reforms. They grab XXXVI by the arms and whip him into the ropes. On the rebound, they attempt a double clothesline, but XXXVI ducks under and bounces off the opposite ropes. This time he comes back with a springboard crossbody that takes both women down!

The masked wrestler kips up and immediately heads to the top turnbuckle. The crowd buzzes as he perches there, arms outstretched like a bird of prey surveying the battlefield below. He launches into a shooting star press, but both Summer and Marisol roll away at the last second, leaving XXXVI to crash and burn on the canvas!

TODD: A big miss from 36!

BAMA: Those spicy mamma jammas did not want to be caught beneath that masked goon- and frankly, I can’t blame them!

Summer is first to capitalize, pulling XXXVI up and planting him with her trademarked "Spoiled Rotten" backstabber out of nowhere!

TODD: He’s just been SPOILED ROTTEN!

BAMA: First, he missed his shooting star press. Then, Summer showed him what real star-power looks like![/blue

Summer moves in for the cover, but Marisol breaks it up with a sharp kick to Summer's ribs almost immediately!

"I don't think so!" Marisol sneers, yanking Summer up to her feet.

[blue]BAMA: This truce looks like it could be short-lived!

TODD: Marisol betrays Summer Page: who ever could have seen this coming?!

BAMA: Not me, Todd! That’s for sure! I want to see those ladies get back together forever!

TODD: Keep dreaming, Bama!

The two women lock up in the center of the ring, their temporary truce forgotten. Summer gets the better of the exchange initially, using her technical prowess to transition into a side headlock. Marisol powers out, sending Summer into the ropes, but Summer comes back with a tilt-a-whirl that she expertly converts into a Russian leg sweep.

As Summer gets to her feet, she notices XXXVI stirring. She looks back to Marisol, who is also slowly stirring- and also noticing XXXVI. Marisol pleads for Summer to once again put their differences aside. Begrudgingly, Summer works with Marisol again to pull the masked wrestler to his feet and set him up for a double suplex. XXXVI blocks the attempt, then counters by somehow managing to suplex both women simultaneously!

TODD: That incredible display of strength and technique has the crowd on their feet! This match has basically turned into a 2-on-1, and 36 is still holding his own!

BAMA: He’s just beating on women! That’s not impressive! What IS impressive, is that Marisol got Summer to keep working with her after breaking up that pin!

TODD: Summer is awfully gullible…

BAMA: VilaroU calls it ‘impressionable’, Todd!

TODD: Wait, how do you know what VilaroU calls it?!

BAMA: Because I just signed up for their classes!

TODD: Oh Lord…

All three competitors are down momentarily. XXXVI is first to stir, his otherworldly resilience showing as he kips up his feet amidst the crowd’s uproar. Meanwhile, Summer and Marisol are helping each other up, their alliance still holding, but XXXVI is ready for them. He charges forward and takes both women down with a double slingblade that he executes with precision!

Not content to let them recover, he heads to the top rope again!

And this time….he connects with a frog splash on Summer Page!

He makes the cover, and the referee drops down to count!



1!







2!






MARISOL BREAKS UP THE PIN!!!!


TODD: 36 almost had it there, but Marisol snatched it away at the last second!

BAMA: I told you she was going to be a good, true friend to Summer Page again!

TODD: As if! She doesn’t care about Summer: she just broke up that pin to save her own skin!

The action becomes frantic as all three competitors scramble for position. After a brief back and forth, XXXVI catches Marisol with a dragon screw leg whip that sends her tumbling to the outside, leaving him alone in the ring with Summer.

The spoiled socialite and the masked enigma circle each other cautiously. Summer feints a lock-up, then surprises XXXVI with her "Total Knockout" superkick, but the high-flyer's reflexes are too fast for her! He matrix-dodges backward, avoiding the boot by mere inches.

XXXVI responds with his own superkick, but Summer sidesteps and immediately grabs him for her "Golden Rule" reverse neckbreaker.

IT CONNECTS!

Summer quickly transitions into her "In Your Dreams" sleeper hold, trying to put the masked wrestler away!


TODD: Summer Page has that choke locked in tight! She might just choke 36 out!

BAMA: Gawd dayum Todd! I wish she was choking me!

XXXVI struggles in the sleeper hold, his movements becoming more labored as Summer cinches it in tighter….



And tighter……





And tighter still….




Just as it looks like XXXVI might fade, Marisol slides back into the ring and breaks up the submission with a vicious kick to the back of Summer’s head!

TODD: Marisol saved it just in the knick of time! That’s three times now that Marisol has stopped a finish!

BAMA: If I were here, I’d be more concerned about winning this match! She’s too focused on what everyone else is in there doing- and not focused enough on her own offense!

TODD: Don’t give her any dark ideas, Bama!

Marisol mocks Summer as she pulls her one-time friend away from XXXVI. The two women trade strikes in the center of the ring while XXXVI recovers from the sleeperhold in the corner. Summer gets the better of the exchange with Marisol, using a high knee to stagger Vilaro, then Summer whips her into the corner where XXXVI is still recovering! Marisol crashes into the masked wrestler, sandwiching them both into the turnbuckle.

Summer charges in for a splash, looking to crush both opponents at once, but XXXVI manages to push both himself and Marisol out of the way! Summer eats the turnbuckle pad and stumbles backward, right into a German suplex from Marisol!

Marisol holds the bridge on the German suplex, but XXXVI is already moving in to break it up. He springs to the top rope with cat-like agility and comes off with a double stomp right to Summer's midsection, breaking up the pin attempt before the referee could even drop down to count!


TODD: And just like, it’s once again anyone’s match!

BAMA: Momentum has been shifting back and forth so much in this match, I think it’s making my head spin! I’m getting dizzy just watching it!

All three wrestlers are showing the effects of the grueling match. Summer's usually pristine appearance is disheveled, Marisol is drenched in sweat, and even XXXVI's movements aren't quite as fluid as they once were!

Nonetheless, XXXVI doesn’t slow down. He charges right for Marisol Vilaro!


He charges right into a Vilaróizer!



A fisherman’s suplex from out of nowhere!!!



TODD: Vilaróizer! Vilaróizer! Marisol just hit that suplex out of nowhere!

BAMA: Uh oh, this could spell trouble for that masked freak!

TODD: Wait, what’s Summer Page doing?!

BAMA: She’s climbing the ropes, Todd!


Vilaro rests atop the mat next to her prey, the masked XXXVI, taking a quick breather after pulling off her patented fisherman’s suplex.



Vilaro doesn’t even see Summer Page ascending the ropes!



But the crowd does-



AND THE POP IS GINORMOUS!


Summer Page leaps into the air with the MOST PERFECT MOONSAULT EVER!


IT CONNECTS RIGHT ATOP XXXVI!


BAMA: MPME! MPME!

TODD: Oh God, these women are just destroying 36’s body right now!



XXXVI is completely flatlined inside the ring, receiving back-to-back big moves from Vilaro and Page!


Vilaro and Page are both laid flat on the mat as well, but once they lock eyes-


They know exactly what they need to do!


Both women climb atop XXXVI- at ALMOST exactly the same time-


And the referee drops down to count the pin!


1!







2!!











3!!!





The referee counts to three! Both women start celebrating their victory!




BAMA: Wait, what just happened?! Who won?!

TODD: They pinned him at the same time! It looks like, we may have a dra-




But then, the referee walks over to Summer Page, grabbing her by the wrist….AND RAISING HER HAND!



Winner by PINFALL - Summer Page



Marisol Vilaro’s eyes go wide. Her mouth drops, and she looks like she’s just seen a ghost. Summer Page gives her a sheepish ‘sorry’ after the referee drops her hand: but you can see that Summer doesn’t really mean it. While Vilaro stands there steaming, Summer Page just rushes to the turnbuckle and climbs the top rope!


The crowd goes crazy for Summer as she raises both her hands in victory!


Vilaro, completely dismayed at the sight, steps towards the referee and begins screaming bloody murder at him! She’s screaming highway robbery! Meanwhile, Summer Page is just standing up on the ropes, celebrating her victory- or perhaps, rubbing it in!


TODD: I’ve never seen that! I thought they both got to the pin at the same time, but I guess the referee saw Summer get there first! Talk about “Spoiled”!

BAMA: Oh man! Marisol Vilaro is not going to let this one go, I can already sense it! Summer Page might’ve just made a real enemy out of her former friend…

TODD: But Summer didn’t do anything wrong! The referee just saw her make the pin first!

BAMA: But I think Vilaro might just see things a bit differently! Summer Page might want to watch her back from here on out!

[Image: wireline.png]


In the backstage area, Steve Sayors sits in front of a tarp with the XWF logo, microphone in hand. Beside Steve, we see three chairs.

Two of the chairs are empty.

But in the last chair, we see the Acting General Manager and Interim Head of The Corporation: Charlie Nickles! The Nickleman is dressed in loose-fitting sweatpants, a black shirt, and a plaid vest.

Steve Sayors: Charlie, Relentless is almost here! You’re walking into a Universal Title match with Kieran King and Dolly Waters… but I’ve got to ask: no suit tonight? For months now, that’s been your trademark!

Charlie chuckles low, leaning back and folding his arms as he makes eye contact directly with the camera.

Charlie Nickles: That suit was never me, Steve. It was just a costume. Just something to make the people upstairs comfortable with me. Something that told them I could play nice, that they could ‘trust’ me.

But suits don’t win fights. Suits don’t make champions.

Steve Sayors: So this is…the old Charlie Nickles? The “Classic” Charlie you spoke of before your match with Maraeth?

Charlie Nickles: ‘Classic’ Charlie never left, Steve. He just had to choke on a tie for a while. He just had to play his part in Geppetto’s sick little games, just long enough for him to cut the strings entirely.

Steve looks at Charlie warily, but carries on nonetheless.

Steve Sayors: Some people are saying that after Relentless, your “Acting GM” status may not continue. Can you comment on the truth of those rumors?

Charlie leans forward in his chair, his smirk hardening into something sharper, something more sinister.

Charlie Nickles: “Acting GM”, “Interim Head of The Corporation”...these are just names. You take one away, I’ll carve another out of somebody’s hide. So understand this, Steve: the second I reclaim my Universal Championship, nobody’s gonna talk about whether or not I’m “still in charge”.

They’ll just know.

The blood I spill at Relentless will speak for itself.

Steve looks off towards the side with a clear look of uncomfortability. After taking a few seconds to himself, Steve turns back towards The dressed-down Nickleman.

Steve Sayors: Speaking of Kieran and Dolly: their absence tonight has raised some eyebrows. Neither one is slated to appear on the final XWF show before Relentless. What’s your take on that?

Charlie’s laugh is cruel and drawn out. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before answering.

Charlie Nickles: My take? These empty chairs tell you everything you need to know. This is the last lap before the biggest race of the year, and where is our “Champion”? Where is our “King”?

Not here, that’s for damn sure.

They’re in hiding.

Because they’re scared to look a Nickleman in the eye after what I did on Warfare.

They’re hoping the less you see of them, the less you remember that noose tightening around their necks.

But me? I’m here. I’ve always been here, and I’m always going to be here.

Because The Nickleman don’t run. He don’t duck fights- he hunts them down.

That’s the fundamental difference between me and them, Steve. They cling to the shadows when their backs are against the wall…but me?

Well…I’m always in the spotlight, baby!

Steve Sayors: Some would say that maybe they’re just preparing, that they’re saving themselves for the big match at Relentless!

Charlie Nickles: Preparing for what? For my inevitable victory?

You don’t skip the battlefield and call it strategy, Steve. You skip it because you’re scared of who’s waiting on the other side. And I’ve been waiting.

Watching.

Salivating at the very thought of it!

Charlie pauses, glancing off to the side like something flickered through his mind. His voice lowers, quieter but sharper.

Charlie Nickles: When the dust settles at Relentless, nobody’s going to be talking about unions, about crowns, or about GM tags.

They’ll just be talking about one thing, and one thing only: that damned Charlie Nickles!

Charlie leans closer to the mic, a devilish look gleaming in his eye.

Charlie Nickles: …and maybe, just maybe Steve: they’ll be talking about someone else, too.

About family.

About blood.

Steve Sayors: Wait. What do you mean by that?

Charlie Nickles: Let’s just say: I’m not the only Nichols who knows how to fight.

Steve Sayors: Are you saying—

Charlie pushes himself up out of the chair, not even letting Steve finish his question. Charlie doesn’t need to answer, he just lets the silence stretch before walking out of frame.

Steve is left sitting awkwardly, looking from Charlie’s empty chair to the two unoccupied seats beside him.

Steve Sayors: Whelp, we had three chairs…but at least one got filled.

The camera lingers on the empty chairs beside Sayors before cutting away.



[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: Folks, the action keeps on rolling and we’re about to see a barn burner!

BAMA: Absolutely! We’re about to be graced by the presence of a bo-nee-fide LEGEND of wrestling! A truly unmatched specimen!

TODD: Agreed, Bama! Larry Tact *is* a TPW Hall-of-Famer! And a former World Champion! An-

BAMA: I was talkin’ ‘bout Preston Vanderlay Esquire! THE UNDEFEATED XWF LEGEND!

TODD: …*sigh*... well, we may not agree on who is the ‘legend’ in this match. But, it’s certain both of these men are in for their stiffest challenges in recent memory!



"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.

TODD: There he is! The Tactilizing One! Larry Tact! Since coming less-than-INCHES in challenging for the Anarchy title, Tact has been on a tear!

BAMA: No doubt, Toddrick! He absolutely dominated Latoya Hixx last Warfare! And he logged an impressive victory over the young phenom, Dom Strife *and* non-XWFer, Helena Handbasket at Smashed 2!

TODD: The wins are starting to pick up for the Tactilizing One! But a win over this competitor… Even I *have* to admit, would catapult his stock in the XWF!

BAMA: Because he’s undefeated!

TODD: …Technically correct.

BAMA: And an XWF Legend!

TODD: …

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.

…



“Paper Planes” by M.I.A. hits the speakers. The arena blacks out completely as a cold robotic voice echoes:

“Please stand by for a priority broadcast from the office of Preston Vanderlay Esquire… Wrestling’s Wealthiest Winner.”

A massive golden “V” lights up on the titantron. Suddenly, the curtain parts, not for Preston, but for two identically dressed male attendants in tuxedos, who roll out an absurdly long red carpet lined with gold trim, leading all the way to ringside. They are followed by a fog machine team in full uniform, blasting synthetic mist infused with a $700 designer cologne.

The beat drops, and the words “Take your money” pulse with the lights, right as a custom-built gold-plated luxury mobility throne rises from beneath the stage. Reclining in it like a Roman emperor is Preston Vanderlay Esquire, draped in a white silk trench coat with golden lapels, his sunglasses gleaming with his initials etched on them.

BAMA: And here he is! PRESTON. VANDERLAY ESQUIRE. XWF LEGEND!

TODD: Oh shuddup, Bama! PVE *bought* his XWF Legend slot from Jimmy Stars! That “Hall of Legends” shrine he installed is as phony as he is!

BAMA: Call it what you will, Bama! But since he’s come to the XWF, Mister PVE has been a man on a MISSION!

PVE’s not alone. Flanking him on each side in slow, synchronized choreography are his disciples Briggs Wellington, Dashford Luxe, and Regan Vale.

Briggs Wellington stomps down first, arms crossed, cracking his neck, dressed in an emerald suit-vest over tactical gear. Dashford Luxe flips onto the ramp out of nowhere, striking a pose midair before moonwalking partway down like he’s dancing through stock options. Regan Vale walks while cracking knuckles that are clad in black leather gloves. Her eyes are wild and yearning.

As Preston’s throne glides forward on a hidden track, attendants throw faux stock certificates and shredded cease-and-desist orders into the crowd like confetti. Gold sparks rain from the ceiling while a voiceover plays:

“Introducing the undisputed architect of all victory… Wrestling’s one true trust fund tactician… PRESTON. VANDERLAY. ESQUIRE.”

At ringside, a plush ottoman step unit is rolled into place. Preston stands, slowly removes his jacket, and hands it to an assistant like it’s a crown jewel. His disciples form a loose triangle behind him as he ascends the stairs one step at a time, pausing on the apron to scan the crowd with visible disdain.

BAMA: PVE dissected Michael Saint! He beat the Revolution Title #1 contender, XXXVI *and* Mrs. James Raven!

TODD: HE didn’t beat ANYONE! His employees did!

BAMA: Which contractually means HE did! You’re just arguing semantics again, Todd! Point is, in the record books, PVE is UNDEFEATED!

TODD: ..*sigh*...you are correct, Bama. PVE’s menagerie of competitors haven’t lost yet. But tonight, the biggest threat to PVE’s status as ‘undefeated’ has emerged in the form of the Tactilizing One![/blue]

Inside the ropes, Dashford lounges in the corner like a smug hype man, Briggs looms with arms raised and flexed, and Regan paces slowly in a circle like a predator. Preston raises one hand to his temple, smiles like he just closed a billion-dollar deal, and steps to the center as fireworks go off indoors.

After a few more seconds of the crowd booing the fuck out of him, Preston activates his Freebird Rule clause and selects one of his three student-diciples to fight for him… Briggs Wellington !

BAMA: PVE opting to bring out his silent-est soldier. The stoic TANK, Briggs Wellington

Tact bounces from foot-to-foot, warming up as Preston who carefully shimmies down from the apron, flanked by his two disciples not actively competing… Briggs stares menacingly at Tact, expression like a predator salivating over his prey.


The official signals to the timekeeper!

DING DING!




LARRY TACT
- vs -
PRESTON VANDERLAY ESQUIRE

Singles


The bell rings.

Larry Tact takes a long breath, his jaw tightening as he paces into the center of the ring. He raises his hands, inviting the lock-up.

Briggs Wellington smirks faintly, then rolls his shoulders, flexing like a mountain daring climbers to try their luck. He stomps forward…

TODD: Here we go! The powerhouse of Preston Vanderlay’s so-called ‘diversified portfolio’ against the legacy and craft of Larry Tact!

BAMA: And Larry might’ve just made his first mistake invitin’ that lock-up. You don’t step up to a freight train like Briggs unless you wanna get RUN OVAH!

They collide. Tact’s jaw tightens, gritting against Briggs’ power as his arms quake from the strain. Briggs tries to man-handle Tact off his feet, immediately… but Tact angles his feet, digging into the canvas, weathering the storm of Wellington’s power!

Briggs snarls, teeth bared, his eyes going wide as he senses advantage. He shoves hard, Larry staggers back into the corner!

BAMA: Nowhere to run! Nowhere to hide!

Briggs charges toward the cornered Tact! Looking for a Stinger Splash…

…But Tact pivots, side-stepping past Brigg’s, and whirls behind into a waistlock before Wellington can leap!

TODD: What quickness on display by Larry Tact! He sensed Briggs trying to close in on a weakness and sealed the opportunity with HASTE!

Briggs’ eyes shoot wide, confused for a heartbeat, his brow furrowed. He thrashes backward with a…

WILD ELBOW!

…But Larry ducks smoothly, wrenching Briggs down off his feet!

Side-headlock Takedown!

TODD: That’s the veteran savvy of Larry Tact! Redirecting momentum, taking Briggs off his feet!

BAMA: …Hell naw! I think Briggsy slipped on Tact’s old-man sweat! Don’t be givin’ Larry all the credit, Toddy! He ain’ done NOTHIN’ like Mister PVE has!

On the outside, Preston Vanderlay Esquire leans against the apron, smirking smugly. He cups his hands like a megaphone, yelling, “Let the ol’ boy tire himself out, Briggs! Keep it controlled, keep it FISCAL!”

In the ring, Larry manages to revolve around Wellington’s back in a grounded hammerlock, his jaw clenched, eyes narrowed in focus. Every tug of Briggs’ arm is deliberate, controlled, like he’s conducting an orchestra.

Briggs snarls, his teeth grinding, sweat already slicking his temples. His chest heaves as he, through great strength alone, FORCES himself up to his knees. With a roar, he muscles himself back to a vertical base… Larry’s gone from a position of control to clinging to Briggs’ wrist for dear life!

And in one fell swoop, Briggs HURLS Larry through the air onto his back! HIP TOSS!

Larry lands hard, rolling with it… Wellington charges it to secure Tact in his mitts…

But Larry quickly secures a vertical base, re-latching Briggs in another grapple, levelling the playing field!

TODD: Masterful work by Tact, setting the tempo in the early-going, refusing to let the bigger Briggs dictate this match’s pace!

BAMA: Briggs don’t need tempo! He’s the whole dang orchestra in ONE MAN! All he’s gotta do is run Larry flat!

…Preston sniffs impatiently, tapping his watch. Indicating that time is money and he’s growing impatient with his employee playing with his food.

Back inside, Briggs stomps forward, jaw set with irritation, brows knitted in anger… He suddenly shoves Tact back against the ropes and raises his arm for a…

DECAPITATING LARIAT!

…

But Tact ducks low, hooks Briggs’ arm, and sweeps him into a crisp…

ARM DRAG TAKEDOWN!

Briggs swoops through the air, landing on his back!

Briggs pops up, red-faced and growling, his nostrils flaring with frustration to be propelled by a pipsqueak like Tact. Wellington charges again…

Another swing!

Another miss!

Another ARM DRAG!

Briggs, like a mad bull, forces himself off the mat again, REFUSING to back down… but Tact anticipates this and slides behind Briggs as he rises, latching Wellington into an arm wringer!

Wellington tries to shove his way out… But Tact holds tight and charges forward, snapping a short-arm shoulder block across the joint!

TODD: Interesting Tactic! (or… Tact-ic!) Larry’s taking apart the arm! He knows every powerhouse needs two pistons to fire — and he’s cutting one down piece by piece!

BAMA: Puh-leez! Wellington could lift Larry with one arm and toss him into the Hudson if he felt like it!!

Tact reels himself back for another shoulder block to sting Brigg’s arm…

But Briggs powerhouses his way forward, trying to bull-rush Tact into the corner!

…But, Larry braces his feet! At the last second, he pivots, spinning Briggs into the buckles instead! SHOULDER BLOCK!

Briggs’ back collides with the turnbuckle, his face twisting in surprise. Before he can recover, Larry slams his jaw with a…

HIGH KNEE!

On the apron, Preston has gone quiet. The smug smile is gone; his lips press thin, eyes narrowed as he watches every movement with hawk-like intensity.

TODD: I think Preston Vanderlay’s façade might be cracking, Bama! He’s watching his golden goose get outwrestled by a master!

BAMA: Nonsense and flim-flam, Todd! That there’s a billionaire brain trust at work. Preston ain’t worried — he’s calculatin’!

Larry Tact pulls Briggs’ back toward the center of the ring, ready to snap into another hold.

Briggs, seething, thinks he sees an opening! He lunges forward, looking for a…

BEARHUG!

…But Larry ducks low, wraps Briggs’ legs, and takes him down in a double-leg — slamming the powerhouse to the canvas!

Larry clamps on an armbar, twisting Briggs’ joint…

TODD: Larry’s managing to run a clinique on Briggs Wellington!

BAMA: …Dammit! C’mon, Briggsy! You’re a representative of PVE! Act like it!

PVE, at ringside, scowls, his hands gripping the apron. His lips twitch into a grin as he snaps his fingers and shouts, “Ropes, Briggs! Ropes, leverage, dammit!”

Briggs’ eyes dart, internalizing his employer’s advice. He stretches his massive arm out and clamps onto the bottom rope, forcing a break!

BAMA: Now, THAT’S what Mister PVE brings to the table! Genius!

TODD: …Yep. Can’t believe no one’s ever had the idea to reach for the ropes during a submission before.

He shoots a glare toward Preston at ringside, his eyes narrowing.

Preston smirks, smoothing his cufflinks with exaggerated flair.

BAMA: Tact better keep his eyes on his opponent!

TODD: Isn’t PVE his opponent technically, Bama?

BAMA: You know what I mean, Toddrick!

As Larry stares down PVE… Briggs works his way back to his feet, more methodically, rather than charging in a blind rage…

Larry spins around and goes to attack…

…But Preston seizes the moment, reaching up to tug Larry’s ankle from the floor.

Larry stumbles, his eyes widening as his balance falters.

Briggs’ lips split in a grin, sweat flying from his hair as he surges forward. He barrels Larry down with a…

POWER SLAM!

TODD: Oh come on! Preston Vanderlay with the trip, and Briggs capitalizes!

BAMA: That’s called SYNERGY, Todd. Read Warren Buffett! Or better yet, PVE’s latest book on why he’s even better than Warren Buffett!

Larry writhes on the mat, clutching his chest, face twisted in pain. His brows knit as he rolls toward the ropes, fighting for breath.

Briggs looms over him, his teeth bared, eyes blazing with newfound confidence. He raises his boot…

STOMP RIGHT ONTO TACT’S RIBS!

Larry grimaces, his face contorted as his body jerks from the impact.

Preston claps smugly on the outside, his smirk back in full form!

Briggs raises an arm to the arena who rain boos down upon him…

Finally, Briggs reaches down, hauling Larry up off his feet… He hooks Tact’s head, setting for a…

SNAP SUPLEX!

…

But Larry hooks his ankle around Briggs’!

TODD: Larry refusing to give this one up without a fight!

BAMA: The last gasp of a desperate old man!

Briggs drops the front facelock and PUMMELS Tact with a right to the top of the skull!

Larry staggers! He keeps his footing… but he’s looking woozy!

Outside the ring, Preston draws a thumb across his neck, directing Briggs to finish it!

BAMA: Here it comes! Tact’s about to get LIQUIDATED!

Briggs scoops Tact’s skull, twisting him into position for a Liquidation Event! (Cross-Rhodes)

”SELL!” barks Briggs, as he delivers th-

…Wait! Tact twists his feet behind Briggs!

And scoops the giant up off his feet!

BACK SUPLEX!

TODD: Tact twists out! What a counter!

The ring QUAKES from Wellington’s massive frame getting DUMPED onto the mat!

Briggs writhes on the canvas, his face twisted in agony, slamming a fist into the mat!

Larry lies on the mat for a second, sweat pouring, chest heaving, his expression raw determination.

Preston’s grin is gone. His jaw slackens, eyes wide as he clutches at his own tie, muttering under his breath.

The crowd is on their feet, roaring.

TODD: Both men down! Larry Tact’s counter may have just swung this match back to even! Who will take the win from here?!?

Larry Tact rises to his feet, slowly but surely, while Briggs stays down on the mat. Tact approaches the big man slowly and cautiously as the crowd chants his name at a fever pitch.

Larry leans down towards Briggs-

Just as Preston slides into the ring, under the bottom rope!

TODD: Wait, what is Preston doing?!

BAMA: What do you mean, Todd?! It’s his match- and it looks like he’s about to wrestle!

Just as Larry starts getting Briggs into position for another big move-

P.V.E. HIMSELF GRABS THE TACTILIZER, before swiftly locking him into position for The Liquidation Event! Preston hits the modified Cross-Rhodes with tremendous FLAIR, screaming out “SELL!” in mid-rotation! 


Larry Tact land crashes into the mat, headfirst!


He’s out cold!


But Preston doesn’t go for the pin-


Instead, P.V.E. just walks over toward Briggs, and begins BERATING the big man until Briggs finally manages to crawl atop Larry Tact for the pin!

The ref drops down to make the count!


1!




2!!




3!!!



WINNER: Preston Vanderlay Esquire



Preston celebrates in the ring as the crowd hurls a tremendous amount of hatred his way. As Larry Tact grabs his head and rolls out of the ring, Briggs finally manages to rise back up to his feet. Instead of being treated to a victor’s welcome, Briggs is instead immediately chided by P.V.E.! As the pair make their way out of the ring and back up the ramp, P.V.E. continues berating Briggs: despite their winning performance!

BAMA: This is what makes Preston such a good businessman! He knows exactly when to hop in himself to get the hard work done, and he always demands accountability from his lessers!

TODD: You have to be joking! Larry Tact had that match in the bag, until Preston finally decided that he wanted to wrestle! Larry was practically fighting a handicap match out there!

BAMA: It’s not Preston’s fault that Larry Tact is mentally ‘handicapped’, Todd!

TODD: Oh my God, Bama, you know that’s not what I meant!

BAMA: But either way, we have to keep this show rolling! We have some more action-packed matches coming your way, so stay tuned!

[Image: wireline.png]

Atara Raven is backstage watching the monitor and mentally preparing for her match later. Then in walks Solomon Kline.

Solomon Kline: Hey, Atty. I know I'm not even scheduled to compete tonight. I'm still reeling a bit from that match with Sarah Wolf on Warfare. But I couldn't miss an opportunity to be on the go-home show to Relentless. Point is, I'm here for a reason. I saw what happened at the end of Warfare.


SK: Chances are, the Corporation is not going to be happy that you were out there with Dolly and the Revolution. I know you can handle yourself, but with 'Oswald' having Thias Watts at ringside, I just want to ensure that things are even. I know you could have any member of the Revolution at ringside tonight, but as far as I can tell...they're not here. So, here's what I'm proposing. For your match tonight, I'll be in your corner to make sure there's no funny business with the Corporate Titans. What do you think?


Mrs. James Raven thinks about it for a moment and then answers.


Atara Raven: Listen kid, there's some bridges you don't burn. Some favors you don't turn a nose to. Dolly is one of those. Don't think too much about it, Dove.


AR: You're right though. That little excursion into Warfare is gonna merit some backlash and I'm just one woman.


AR: If the Tribe has my back, then I've got the Tribe's and you don't worry about those Sarah Wolf type things either.


AR: Now ela...I've got a match to win.


[Image: wireline.png]


TODD: Bama this next match is going to be very competitive!

BAMA: Yes, Toddrick. We are about to see one of the newest members of the Corporation in action in Mr. Oz!

TODD: Don’t let him hear you call him that. I’ve heard he’s going by the more distinguished Oswald these days and he’s not coming alone!

BAMA: Right you, are Toddy boy! At his side will be the massive Thias Watts, the other half of the Anarchy tag team number one contenders, The Corporate Titans!

TODD: He was supposed to be the only competitor with back up tonight, but this is the XWF, where the action never slows down. In fact, it’s Relentless! Here comes his opponent now!





The honeyed rasp of Atara's voice blares over the facility's PA in unison with those words appearing on the multitude of screens and displays littering the arena.


HELLO DOVES


The crowd pops and gets to their feet shouting in near total unison a single word.


OPA!


Arena lights start to pulse in time with the music and multiple vertical streams of pyro erupt across the front of stage. Strutting with purpose, Atara emerges from the back taking spot centerstage atop the ramp. Posing for the camera, a wink and kiss is given to the viewers at home. But she’s not alone! Behind her emerges a tall figure in the lights.

BAMA: My God! Is that who I think it is?

TODD: Of course it is, Bama! It’s the one and only Solomon Kline! Looks like he’s here to even the odds!



Grunge walking to the ringsteps, she climbs and stops at the top to posture again for her adoring public as Solomon follows closely behind. Hand on her hip, the Grecian moves to the middle of the apron to blow a final kiss to the camera and enters the ring through the middle rope.





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. Looming over him from the shadows is the giant Thias Watts. Oswald walks towards the lead guitarist, clapping her 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 leaps 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-cloaks 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. Outside, the giant stands guard.

DING DING! The bell rings to officially start the match.

ATARA RAVEN (with Solomon Kline at ringside)
- vs -
MR. OZ (with Thias Watts at ringside)

Singles w/Valet


The moment the bell rings, the two charge out of their corners!

Atara and Oz lock up in the center of the ring. Oz gets the advantage early, overpowering Atty in the test of strength. He brings her shoulders down to the mat and immediately goes for the pin.

1…


No! Kickout!

TODD: I don’t know why he thought he could win so easily there.

BAMA: Atty is back up already!

Atara kicks him in the back of the left leg. He stumbles. She runs the ropes, bounces off and Oz with the clothesline! But Atty ducks under it and goes behind, hitting a sling blade!

The fans shout OPA! She waits for him to get back up and no! Thias grabs her hair from the outside. The referee tells him to let go and…

BAMA: OH MY! Solomon takes down the big man with a thunderous spear on the outside!

TODD: That has got to hurt! But I doubt he’ll stay down for long.

Back in the ring, Atty checks her hair and eats a big boot from Oz! She goes over the top rope, but lands on her feet on the apron. Oz charges at her, but she moves at the last second, sending Oz through the ropes and to the outside, where he collides with Thias, who is just making it to his feet. Thias stumbles, but doesn’t fall. Oz crumples onto the floor outside the ring. Atty gestures to the crowd and hits a middle rope moonsault to the outside, colliding with both Solomon and Thias, who were just about to continue fighting. All four are on the floor now.

odd: OPA!

Bama: This is chaos in the best way, Toddrick!

Todd: You love to see it.


The referee begins to count.

1…

2…

3…

4…

Atty and Oz slowly make their way to their feet.


5…

Solomon and Thias also begin to stir.

6…

Atty is in!

7…and so is Oz!

Oz whips Raven into the ropes and when she comes back, he hits a huge spinebuster. He goes for the pin.


1…

2…kickout!

BAMA: He almost had her there!

TODD: It’s going to take more than that to take down the veteran Greek Goddess.

Oz is back on the attack, clubbing down blows on his opponent, still on the ground. He picks her up and german suplex! And another! Again! A fourth! A fifth and sextuple german suplex! Oswald sits, taking a breather.

BAMA: He folded her like a damn gyro!

TODD: He needs to capitalize on this moment.

Outside the ring, Thias Watts hits a huge overhand chop to the chest of Solomon Kline. Kline hits him with a chop back. Inside the ring, Oz looks to put her away. He reaches a hand toward the mouth of Raven on the mat. I…Failed…You! He shoves his fingers into her mouth, but no! She bites down. He pulls his hand away quickly as she hops to her feet. Atty kicks his leg again and again. She follows it up with a left, then a right and an uppercut to the jaw. Oz staggers toward the ropes. Outside, Solomon shouts at Oz. Oz turns to face him. Thias hits Solomon with a forearm to the face. Oz laughs at him. He turns back around, right into The Judgement of Paris!

BAMA: That’s all she wrote!

TODD: You may be right.

Atty goes for the pin, but Thias grabs the referee by the leg and pulls him out of the ring! The crowd starts to count in his stead. 1…2…3…4…Atty gets up, frustrated. Solomon gets in Thias’ face. Thias shoves Solomon. Solomon pushes back, but Thias won’t budge. Thias laughs in his face and grabs Solomon by the neck. He pushes him toward the announce table and lifts him. Thias hits a massive chokeslam to Solomon right through the announce table! He flexes and roars and turns back toward the ring when…The Judgement of Paris off the top turnbuckle to Thias on the outside. The big man staggers and teeters. Atty runs up to him and hits the Priapus Punch, right to the family jewels! She runs back into the ring where Oz is getting up. The referee comes to and slowly returns to the ring.

TODD: It’s been an absolute slobberknocker up to this point!

BAMA: And it’s still anybody’s game, Toddy baby!

Atty slides back into the ring, but Oz catches her in his arms and delivers a huge belly-to-back suplex. Oz grasps Atty by her hair, yanking her up to her feet with his great might. He reels back his arm, going for another I Failed You! But his arm sails by as Atty sidesteps, latching her arms around his and delivering an axe kick upwards to his jaw!

Oz staggers back into the ropes and Atty backs up for distance. As Ozzy stumbles forward, Atty leaps with all she’s got for another Judgment of Paris! Ozzy drops to the mat! Atty hooks the leg!

ONE!

Outside the ring, Kline and Thias are both slowly rising… Thias goes to reach under the bottom rope to stop the official’s count…

TWO!

But Kline dives through the air! Ashes to Ashes! Thias drops!

THREE!

WINNER: ATARA RAVEN!


TODD: What an absolute war between these competitors! Credit to Solomon Kline for backing up Atty through the Corporation’s many attempts to obstruct and interfere! And hats off to Atara Raven for an impressive victory!

[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: Folks, this next match… the spectrum of possibility is off-the-charts… Literally, almost anything could happen!

BAMA: Fo’ REAL, Toddrick! In one corner, we have an undefeated demoness! An otherworldly spirit of unspeakable terror, as apparently unbeatable as her thirst for violence is unquenchable!

TODD: But in the other corner, we have the man that seems to snatch victory from the clutches of undefeatable opponents!



The smoke fills up with gray on the stage, as the arena lights flickers. Then once we see "The Rebellious One" on the X-Tron, then we hear the boom bap of 1999 on the the X-Tron itself. Then we see Reggie coming onto the stage with his hoodie on, and he shadow boxes infront of the camera and talkin’ smack as he walked down, then he gives the fans on the ramp some dap as he went to the ring.

TODD: There he is! Reggie Estrada! The ultimate upset artist!

BAMA: No doubt, Toddy! Reggie has made a career out of pulling off unbelievable comebacks! He pinned Robert “The Omega” Main in 2020! He beat both members of American Storm single-handedly!

TODD: And just last Anarchy, he pulled off a shocking upset, beating the previously undefeated on Anarchy, JC Keeton!

BAMA: When Reggie’s in the ring, and the crowd’s screaming for him, miracles happen, Toddy!

TODD: And they don’t just yell his name, Bama! They also yell what he makes opponents do!

CHOKE! CHOKE! CHOKE! CHOKE! CHOKE!

Reggie reaches the bottom of the ramp with a  simply sildes into it! He steps to the center of the ring… and starts twisting his wrists, raising his arms…

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

And Reggie wraps his hands around his throat! The Reggie choke! And the crowd loves it!

Reggie raises his fist up to the crowd, showing the people some love as his theme fades out.

…



“Dreams of a Lullaby” plays, and as her music swells, Celestine stumbles onto the stage, dragging a massive canvas behind her. Her body jerks unnaturally as though seized by a spirit, shades of a possession. She begins speed-painting in a frenzy, daubing wild strokes with brushes, bare hands, and even blown snot from her nose.

TODD: …Celestine Gale! The Artist of Atrocity! The Maestra of the Macabre!

BAMA: Speakin’ of impressive streaks, Miss Gale is undefeated herself! She thrashed the thoroughly monstrous Inquisition! And no one has seen that clown, Pennyfarthing, since Gale painted the canvas red with his blood!

TODD: It’s hard to imagine *any* competitor on Anarchy that wouldn’t become Gale’s newest masterpiece of murder… But, if anyone can pull off an upset? It’s Reggie Estrada!

She growls, chants, sometimes laughing, sometimes weeping. By the time she reaches the ring, the canvas is revealed: a horrific foretelling of her opponent mangled, ruined, disfigured. She lays the painting gently against the ring like a tombstone.

…Estrada scoffs, like whatever… as Gale eerily creeps up the steeps and into the ring…

The official signals to the timekeeper!

DING DING!

CELESTINE GALE
- vs -
REGGIE ESTRADA
Singles Match


Reggie Estrada bounces on the balls of his feet! He raises his arms, beckoning Cekestine to come right at him!

Celestine Gale’s lips curl into a nefarious smirk, like she’s thinking of bringing her art to life in the most agonizing way. Her head tilts just a fraction too far, her gaze never blinking as she takes one slow, gliding step forward.

…Despite beckoning her, Reggie creeps backward, not eager to meet her in a grapple!

TODD: Celestine, possibly taking an early psychological advantage here… Without landing a blow, Gale may already be in Reggie’s head!

BAMA: She IS in his head psychologically… And knowing Miss Gale, she plans to stick her hand in his eye socket to occupy it physically too!

Gale lurches forward unsettlingly… almost like a marionette, bending and twisting as she closes the distance, between herself and Estrada…

Until! With a sudden shout, he lunges forward, his face twisted in defiance, as he launches a…

DISCUS LARIAT!

…Side-stepped.
Celestine’s expression doesn’t change—her features remain eerily calm as she sways aside, letting his fists cut through empty air. Her stillness makes the crowd gasp.

TODD: Total control on display by Celestine Gale!

Then, as Reggie’s flailing attack sails wide to her side,, Gale drives her knee sharply into his ribs!

KNEE LIFT!

Reggie’s eyes widen, his mouth opening with a grunt of pain. He staggers backward toward the ropes… but he shoves off of them!

BAMA: I’ll give this to ol’ Reg, he got more fight in him than a sack full a’ alley cats!
Reggie’s arm swipe forward, looking for an…

ARM DRAG!

…but Celestine CATCHES Reggie’s wrist instead, as her lips part in a cold grin. Her shoulders roll back with unnatural fluidity, and she sweeps his legs, yanking him down in one motion!

DOUBLE LEG TAKEDOWN!

TODD: Like a brushstroke across the canvas—smooth and sharp!

BAMA: it’s effective to be sure… but it gives me them heebie-jeebies…

Reggie’s back hits the mat… But Gale’s attack isn’t over! She suddenly surges forward… AND STOMPS ON ESTRADA’s THR-

…Dodge! Reggie somersaults backward to his feet! Gale’s stomp only hits mat!

TODD: Wow! A vicious throat-sealing stomp sought after by Celestine Gale! That move could’ve ended the match in an instant!

BAMA: As could have any chance of Reggie’s ability to speak!

Reggie bounces off the ropes, going with the flow of his backwards somersault, before he charges again!

Celestine’s eyes widen just slightly, amused at his persistence. She tilts her head back and freezes in place, statuesque…

TODD: Gale allowing Reggie’s advance, daring him to try another attack!

BAMA: …I’ve seen people play chicken in the ring before. This looks more like whoever… or whatever… is piloting Miss Gale… just dropped their controller!

Reggie goes for it! He barrels forward…

And slides low, looking for a…

BASEMENT DROPKICK!

…At the last possible moment, Gale swings her ankle straight backward, like a ballerina, pirouetting her leg into the air!

…Before swinging it straight down! AXE KICK DOWN TO THE MAT!

…Reggie side-rolls, slipping out of harm’s way, but only narrowly!

TODD: The ‘Choke’ chants have gone silent now… Reggie is surviving, but still hasn’t found a way to penetrate Gale’s defenses!

BAMA: Only thing I hear is our hispanic fans quietly praying for Reggie!

TODD: …Do you know spanish, Bama?

BAMA: Un pocito. Suficiente para encontrar un baño.

TODD: …What?

BAMA: I just told you I majored in spanish in college.

TODD: …Oh. Neat!

Gale refuses to allow Reggie to escape a sequence unscathed, stomping the mat wildly like one may squash a beetle beneath their feet…

Reggie desperately scoots, back against the mat, rolling to avoid Gale’s rapid-fire stomps…

Gale leaps, raising both boots to crash against Reggie’s chest…

…But Reggie raises a boot toward the rafters!

And catches Gale on the chin!

The crowd gasps… before turning to cheers!

TODD: Reggie did it! Reggie drew Gale in and made contact!

BAMA: Great. Now, do it again and again until she goes down for a three! One kick ain’t winnin’ a war, Toddrick!

…Gale’s head tilts backward from the kick. Her eerie smile disappears for just a moment, as Reggie kips-up to his feet!

…Straight into a Gale KNEE LIFT!

The air is sucked from the crowd, just like it is Reggie’s lungs, as Estrada drops to one knee.
TODD: …Uh-oh. That comeback didn’t last…
Celestine watches Reggie’s struggle to breathe with bemused detachment, her lips tightening as if sighing at an unruly child. She latches onto the back of his head and snaps…

ANOTHER KNEE LIFT!

A SECOND!

A THIRD!
Reggie’s face twists with every strike, his cheeks puffing, eyes squinting shut with each blow.

The crowd starts a chant to try to will him back into this…

REG-GIE!

REG-GIE!

REG-GIE!

TODD: Gale might be setting up for a finishing strike… Reggie’s gotta do something or its curtains for him!

BAMA: Curtains? More like…

…

BAMA: Dammit. What’s the word for the sheet that coroners drape over a dead guy?[/blue]

Gale latches onto Reggie’s arm… and hurls him toward the ropes!

Reggie bounces off… Gale aims, with laser precision a…

GLIDING ROUNDHOUSE (with toe-pointed artistry)

…

But Reggie slips under!

TODD: Oho! There’s life in Estrada yet!

Gale’s ballet-like flourish leaves her slow to re-find her footing, giving Reggie a window to bounce off the ropes! He hits them with all he’s got, sprinting as Gale recovers her footing…

SHOTGUN DROPKICK!

Gale…

Gets…

BLASTED! Getting launched into a rolling heap before landing flat on her back!

TODD: AHHHHHHHH! WOW! What a strike by Reggie!

BAMA: That’s the kid I was talking about! The King of the Upset! Brash, reckless, and just crazy enough to hit the bullseye!

Reggie’s face lights with pride, his chest heaving as he shoots up to his knees, pointing to the crowd.

CHOKE! CHOKE! CHOKE!

TODD: Reggie spending perhaps too much time basking in the crowd’s energy… He hit a big move on Gale, possibly the first time she’s looked vulnerable in her XWF tenure! Follow it up!

BAMA: It’s a psychological game in the ring, Toddrick! Gale dug herself into Reggie’s brain, now he’s gotta excise her! And what better way than the ollllllll’ TAUNT!

Reggie’s grin spreads wide—cocky now, feeding on the crowd’s roar. He raises his hand toward his throat, ready to draw it across in his infamous choke gesture—

CHOKE! CHOKE! CHO-

IN A FLASH, Celestine Gale’s body JERKS unnaturally upright!

Gale sits up with her head snapping to face Reggie, eyes glassy and unblinking.

…The crowd is silenced.

Reggie’s face drops instantly, his grin fading into wide-eyed disbelief.

TODD: …That celebration might’ve come too soon!

BAMA: …Like I told you, Todd—you poke the ghost, the ghost pokes back!

TODD: You said NOTHING of the sort, Bama!

…Reggie dismisses his shock, running toward the ropes…

TODD: Reggie’s thinking Gale’s still grounded, off her feet! There’s still a window to attack!

Reggie slides on his stomach with a…

BASEBALL SLIDE!

…With eerie grace, Gale shifts her body a fraction to the side, letting his boots pass harmlessly.

TODD: She moved before he even made contact! It’s like she saw the play a step ahead!

Bama: …Like she’s watching from a perspective beyond the ring. As though she’d known the strike was coming long before he committed to it…

…Gale SNAPS to her feet unnaturally, straight off her back, as if tugged upwards by puppet-strings…
Reggie starfish kip-ups back to his feet and throws a desperation flurry!

Wild punches!

Spinning backfists!

…Celestine’s expression doesn’t change. She slips through each blow, movements are sharp but detached…

TODD: What a sequence! It’s like Estrada mailed all his moves to Celestine a week in advance so she could plan the most elegant way to avoid them!

Then, suddenly, her palm snaps forward—a sharp chopping strike to the side of Reggie’s neck!

His eyes squeeze shut, his face contorting with pain.

She follows with…

A second throat thrust!

A third!

TODD: She’s chipping away at him—every strike precise, deliberate!

Bama: Drainin’ Reg like an old paint rag!

Reggie staggers, clutching his chest, desperation written across his sweat-soaked face…

Gale’s hands surge forward, as she snaps behind Estrada, seeking a…

Straight-Jacket German Sup-...

…But Reggie suddenly slips behind Gale! Standing Switch! His arms remain latched onto Gale’s wrists!

TODD: Reggie finds life! Can he pull off another miraculous comeback!

He shakes his head wildly, his eyes blazing with stubborn fire. The crowd erupts with anticipation!

With a roar, he tries to muscle Gale, twisting her toward facing the mat as he sets her up for…

THE AZTEC SUNRISE! (Killswitch!)

…

NO!

With inhuman fluidity, Gale slips free of his grip mid-motion, her body flowing like wet paint!

TODD: Gale slips out!

Reggie’s eyes flash with shock as she twists behind him.

Her arms snake around his throat…

NOWHERE OVER THE RAINBOW!

BAMA: And things go from bad to worse for Estrada!

Celestine’s face remains expressionless as she sways, side to side, almost rocking him like a child. But her lips part, whispering a low, chilling lullaby. Reggie’s eyes bulge, his mouth opens in panic, his hands claw at her arm—his expression shifting from fury to desperation to foggy confusion.

TODD: Gale’s got it cinched in! The sleeper’s locked tight—Reggie’s fading fast!

BAMA: Sing him a lullaby, Toddy baby! Reggie’s headed to dreamland!

Reggie kicks, his face contorted, his jaw clenched as he tries one last surge of defiance… Thrashing to escape!

But his eyelids droop…

His body slackens.

…

….

And finally his arms fall limp.

The official calls for the bell!

WINNER: Celestine Gale!


Celestine releases him gently, letting his body crumple to the mat like discarded parchment. Her eyes scan the crowd, her lips pulling into a faint, unsettling smile as if she’d just signed her signature across a fresh canvas.

TODD: And that’s it! Celestine Gale with ‘Nowhere Over the Rainbow’—Reggie Estrada’s fire is extinguished tonight! Celestine Gale remains undefeated… and terrifying!

BAMA: Somebody get the sage and holy water! That woman ain’t right!

[Image: wireline.png]




Da Bing Bong Twinzz bust out that back stage bitch like WTF and perp slash pimp walk to the RANG. You feel me?

TODD: I don’t even know what these fools are doing back in the XWF. I thought we released them ages ago!

BAMA: Put some respeck’ on the BING BONG family name, Todd! Da Twinzz are an XWF staple, and they have a cult following that keeps them in the mix!

TODD: In the mix for what? Prison?

BAMA: In the mix for tag-team gold, Todd! If Da Bing Bong Twinzz win this match, they’ll earn themselves a future shot at the Anarchy Tag Championships!

TODD: And if they pin Darren Dangerous, one of them will become the X-treme Champion! But these are big ‘ifs’, Bama!

BAMA: Da Twinzz like big ‘ifs’, Todd- and they can not lie!





As the music hits, a burst of pyro explodes on the stage! Then, we see XWF legend CENTURION appear on the stage! He looks mildly annoyed at his booking, but the crowd’s chant of “CENT! CENT! CENT!” seem to cheer him up! Centurion gives the front-row fans a few high fives as he makes his way into the ring, ascending the steps and then slipping through the ropes as he awaits his tag-team partner and dyadic opposite.

TODD: And Centurion makes his way to the ring! A certified XWF legend and former Anarchy stalwart, these fans are over the moon to see Centurion back in action tonight!

BAMA: Those idiot fans might be over the moon, but Centurion is over the hill! He’s made a grave mistake coming back to the XWF, and Da Bing Bong Twinzz are going to prove it!

TODD: As if, Bama! Centurion is at his best on Thursday nights: we’ve seen this time and again throughout his career. If I was betting man, I’d bet that Centurion could beat those two bozos while blindfolded and handcuffed!





Darren Dangerous enters the stage with an arm raised then lowers it as he walks to the ring. When he enters the ring he steps up onto the middle turnbuckle and crosses arms above his head and flashes the devil horns. The X-treme championship rests firmly upon his waist as the crowd showers him in boos.

Centurion just shakes his head with disappointment as Darren climbs off the ropes and gives his belt over to the referee for safekeeping.

BAMA: DARREN F’N DANGEROUS! Our X-treme Champion is blessing Anarchy by having his first defense here, in front of these Knucklehead Centurion fans!

TODD: And listening to this crowd…it sounds like a lot of them wanted him to stay home! He has go-home heat with them!

BAMA: Oh, that just means this is the GO-HOME show before Relentless, Todd! That’s all!



Tag-Team X-treme Rules Match

DARREN DANGEROUS © & CENTURION
- vs -
DA BING BONG TWINZZZ



DING! DING! DING!

TODD: This is an X-treme rules tag-team match: which means there are no tags, no count-outs, and absolutely no limits!

BAMA: That’s right, Todd! This match is going to be a BLOODBATH- but what else would you expect from Darren’s first official title defense?!

Centurion and Darren Dangerous immediately get into a heated argument as soon as the bell rings. Centurion tells DD to stay out of his way for this match, but DD just calls him a slur in return! Centurion and DD wind up face-to-face, arguing over ethical communication strategies.

The referee tries to get in between Cent and DD, reminding them that they’re supposed to work together tonight: but neither of them are having it! Darren Dangerous lifts an accusator finger and points it right in Centurion’s face- but Centurion quickly slaps it away!

TODD: Oh boy, I had a feeling this could happen…it looks like Darren Dangerous and Centurion would rather fight each other than their competition!

BAMA: Well can ya blame em’, Todd?! Centurion is a WOKE-liberal-SJW, and Darren Dangerous is the hardcore icon of a forgotten past! These two were NEVER going to get along!

TODD: And to make matters worse: I heard that Centurion is angling for a shot at Darren’s championship belt come Relentless!

BAMA: That Centurion is a damn Benedict Arnold, Todd! I tell ya what!

Da Bing Bong Twinzz talk amongst themselves for a few seconds while the other team continues arguing. Then, MC C-Munqqquee BathZaltzz and Lil' Ca$h-App Dolla Billyunnai$$e strike as soon as the chance arises! The two Twinzz charge ahead, with Ca$h-App targeting Centurion while MC C-Mun goes right for Darren Dangerous! The pair of arguing teammates never saw it coming!

Ca$h-App spears Centurion right into the corner!

MC C-Mun delivers a huge lariat that sends both him and DD flying over the top-rope!

TODD: And Da Bing Bong Twinzz strike!

BAMA: Oh man! Darren Dangerous needs to get it together, because those Twinzz have so much riding on this one! If they can come away with the upset victory, not only will they be walking out of here with a guaranteed tag-team title shot: they might even be walking away with Darren’s X-treme championship!

Ca$h-App starts delivering shoulders to Centurion’s midsection in the corner!....but it doesn’t look like they’re doing very much damage. Centurion just kind of ignores the mild pushing on his abdomen as he looks at the crowd with a disgusted expression.

Outside the ring, both Darren and MC C-Mun have risen to their feet! C-Mun tries to hit Darren with a crazy spinning roundhouse kick: but he trips and misses! Darren laughs mockingly before he delivers a brutal elbow drop right between C-Mun’s shoulder blades!

Inside the ring, Centurion has finally grown tired of Ca$h-App’s mild attacks. Centurion lifts up a knee, and Ca$h-App runs his shoulder right into it! Ca$h-App hollers in pain as he backs away from the corner. By the time Ca$h-App finally recovers from the knee, Centurion is already charging at him with a BLOODY SYMPHONY (Busaiku Flying Knee)!

TODD: It looks like the momentum might be shifting, Bama! Da Bing Bong Twinzz caught the opposition offguard, but now, Centurion and Darren Dangerous are flipping the script!

BAMA: Darren Dangerous could take both of these bums by himself! He doesn’t even need Centurion to win this match!

TODD: Sure, Bama. Sure.

Outside the ring, Darren walks towards the ring and reaches down beneath it. After a few seconds of sifting through weapons, Darren eventually pulls out the lid of a trash can! DD pops a big grin as he walks over to MC with the steel lid. Darren waits until MC starts pulling himself up with the help of the staircase: and then, Darren goes to bloody work!

And I mean BLOODY!

Darren Dangerous bashes MC’s head seven ways to Sunday, lacerating the flesh on his face time and time again as he batters him with the trash can lid! Fans in the front row get covered in specks of blood, flesh, and bone as MC screams out in agony from the brutal assault.

But back inside the ring, Da Bing Bong Twinzz are faring slightly better!

But only slightly.

As Centurion approaches his downed opponent, Ca$h-App springs back to life with an attempted low-blow!

But Centurion sees it coming and moves just out of the way….while delivering another vicious knee right to Ca$h-App’s skull instead!

Ca$h-App’s face is busted open the old-fashioned way!

A stream of blood runs down Ca$h-App’s forehead as the life begins fading from his face!

TODD: Oh my God, Bama! This is turning into a slaughter out there!

BAMA: That’s what happens when you book an X-treme Rulez match on Anarchy, Todd! THE BLOOD WILL SPILL!

Back outside the ring, Darren Dangerous throws his trash can lid into the crowd after completely demolishing it from continued use. Then, he grabs his bloodied opponent by the hair before slamming their face right into the steel steps!

NOT ONCE!


NOT TWICE!


BUT THRICE!


MC C-Mun looks to be damn near unconscious by the time Darren Dangerous slides them back inside the ring!


TODD: That Bing Bong Twin just found out why you don’t take Darren Dangerous to the outside! That’s where he’s most Dangerous!

BAMA: He’s Dangerous everywhere, Todd! It’s his middle name!

TODD: Well, no…but- whatever!

Inside the ring, Centurion has been delivering big boots to Ca$h-App’s lower back while the twin writhes around the canvas in pain. The crowd chants “CENT! CENT! CENT!” as the XWF legend plays up to their applause.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the ring: Darren Dangerous grabs MC C-Mun and places him between his legs. Then, Darren lifts the Twin up into a powerbomb position!

And back on the other side of the ring, Centurion is setting Ca$h-App up for the “Fall of Rome” (Walls of Jericho)!

TODD: This could be it right here, Bama! Those Twinzz are in a terrible predicament!

BAMA: You’re damn right, Todd! The only question is: which Twin is going to get beat first?!

Just when Centurion places Ca$h-App into the Fall of Rome, Darren drops MC C-Mun back to the mat with a devastating Amber Alert (Bautista Bomb)!


Darren goes for the cover on MC C-Mun, just when Ca$h-App looks poised to tap out!


The referee counts the pin with one eye while keeping his other eye on the submission hold!



1!




CA$H-APP’S HAND FALLS TOWARDS THE MAT!






2!!





CA$H-APP’S HAND REACHES THE MAT!





3!!!




CA$H-APP IS TAPPING OUT!


WINNERS: DARREN DANGEROUS © & CENTURION


Darren Dangerous and Centurion stand in the center of the ring, the referee raising both of their arms. Darren turns towards Centurion and starts unleashing a flurry of slurs his way. Centurion just bites his tongue while he stares daggers into Darren Dangerous.

TODD: What a dominant showing from Centurion and Darren Dangerous! It makes you wonder…what could these two accomplish if they’d put their differences aside more often?!

BAMA: Frankly, Todd- they could be one of the hottest tag-teams in all of wrestling!

TODD: I was just thinking the same thi-oh, wait….they’re fighting again.

Darren Dangerous takes a powerful step towards Centurion, and then, Darren spits a big fat loogie in Centurion’s direction.

Centurion looks down at the loogie on his chest, then back up to Darren Dangerous with a look of rage.

Darren Dangerous takes another step forward, laughing in Centurin’s face….

UNTIL CENTURION ROLLS UP THE X-TREME CHAMPION IN A CRADLE!

THE REFEREE DROPS DOWN TO COUNT THE SUDDEN X-PIN!



1!
























2!!






















3-



NO!

Darren gets his shoulder up just in time!

BAMA: That damned Benedict Centurion just turned on his tag-team partner! He just tried to steal the X-treme Championship!

TODD: Oh c’mon Bama, Darren was asking for it! He spit on Centurion! And did you hear what he said to Cent after the match?!

Darren doesn’t take too lightly to the pinfall attempt: and Centurion doesn’t seem to give a damn! As soon as DD kicks out of the pin, he scrambles to his feet and gets into a proper brawl with the XWF Legend! The two trade heavy haymakers in the center of the ring, until eventually, they both get tangled up and go flying over the ropes!

They both land on their feet outside the ring-

AND CONTINUE TRADING BLOWS!

The crowd goes wild with chants of “CENT! CENT! CENT!” as the two men battle their way up the ramp, and back through the curtain in a flurry of fists!

TODD: This match might be over, but I think Darren and Centurion still have plenty of fight left in them!

BAMA: You’re right about that, Todd! Those men hate each other so much, I won’t be surprised if they continue fighting all the way until Relentless!

TODD: But at Relentless, everything between these two will finally be settled! Because Centurion will be taking on Darren Dangerous, and the winner will walk away with more than just bragging rights….they’ll walk away with the X-treme Championship belt!

BAMA: You won’t want to miss it! But first: we still have tonight’s main event!

[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: Folks, our main event is… uh… well, there’s a hell of a lot of history to it, I can tell you that much!

BAMA: And we’re gonna do our best to unpack it for you, ladies and germs!



The arena is pitch black and the melancholy opening tunes to “Identity” begin. But as the song starts to pick up in intensity, down in the entry way, you see a Jericho-esque light up jacket glow brilliantly. Then, twin explosions emit from either side of the ramp and the lights turn on in a swirling red and blue pattern that throb in sync with the beats of the song. Corey comes down the ramp, the jacket now flashing intermittent heart and lightning bolt patterns. On the 'Tron you see images of Corey/Lux pulling off fantastic moves, intercut with blur effects on Corey's face that obscure his features in an eerie way.

[blue]TODD: Corey Smith! …Phew, okay! You could fill several academic-sized volumes with Corey’s extensive XWF history!

BAMA: Or a couple really niche tumblrs!

TODD: His body has held the Universal title multiple times… And two years ago, so did he while controlling himself! And for two years, we weren’t sure if we’d see Corey Smith again!

BAMA: But his returned at May Day, earlier this year, looking like he hasn’t lost one step! He dropped an impressive win on the Corporate Revolutionary, Matthias Syn! And he and Dolly looked like absolute dynamite, a perfect unit! Dissecting two of PWV’s finest in JC Keeton and Matt Knox!

TODD: In the war between Revolution *and* Corporation, the sudden return of Corey Smith feels like it may be a great equalizer on the battlefield…

BAMA: But one OG revolutionary isn’t quite as welcoming to the XWF’s original communist(?) dreamer! He doesn’t see Corey as an ally, but a Judas!

Corey gets on the ring apron, throwing his arms over the top rope as the jacket keeps flashing. He looks pumped as hell, and starts pointing out at the fans before rushing to the top rope, surveying the crowd from on high, before dropping down to the canvas and handing off his jacket. He paces the ring now, waiting for the match to begin as the music and lighting effects wind down.

…

Suddenly, there’s the strum of a banjo heard from off-stage…



Through the apron, bursts “Micheal Graves” (conceivably), Anarchy champion, sporting the “Dark Warrior” mask, and the belt on his shoulder.

TODD: And here we have the longest-reigning Anarchy champion of all-time, Micheal Graves!

BAMA: Allegedly! Apparently, he’s been Corey Smith this whole time, according to Corey!

TODD: …Wait, but Corey’s in the ring! Is he in two places at once?

BAMA: He covered this already! That’s Mark Flynn!

TODD: Micheal Graves has been Mark Flynn this whole time!?!

…

TODD: Wait, no, I knew that!

BAMA: You know NOTHING, Toddrick! That’s currently Mark Flynn!

TODD: Allegedly!

BAMA: But, all previous weeks it’s been Corey Smith!

TODD: …Wait, but didn’t ‘Graves’ get unmasked last Relentless and it was Mark Flynn under the mask!

BAMA: BUT, Flynn wrestled ‘Graves’ at WarGames! If Corey can’t be in two places at once, how can ‘Graves’?!?

TODD: …My head is starting to hurt…

As the banjo strings are plucked, ‘Graves’ strolls down the ramp… As an entourage follows him!

Irwin, Mark Flynn’s #1 fan is plucking the banjo, playing the folk song…

Behind *him* are the Students of Gravy.

Miss Furry paws at a triangle, which isn’t plugged into anything…

While Peter Parkor brings up the rear, holding a microphone…

Peter raises the mask over his lips and lifts the mic.

♫ You may think that you’re neutral ♫
♫  There are no neutrals though ♫
♫ You’re either with the wrestlers ♫
♫ Or a pawn of the CEOs ♫

The fans join in, knowing the chorus by heart…

WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON? WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON?

‘Graves’ continues to walk down the ramp to the beat, staring at the challenger in the ring… as the entourage behind him plays…

♫ The Boss wants us divided ♫
♫  He don’t want this song sung ♫
♫ But us wrestlers, we fight until ♫
♫ That final bell is rung  ♫

TODD: Well, whoever ‘Graves’ is, whoever Flynn is, whoever Corey is… Whoever I am! I know this! ‘Graves’ had some FIGHTING words directed at Corey! Calling him a shark! Calling him a predator who only came back because he smells opportunity to glorify himself!

BAMA: Wild accusation! But he had a handful of quotes to back up his point!

TODD: All taken out of context!

♫ It’s been a long time, Corey ♫
♫ We know just why you’re here ♫
♫ Your heart and soul are empty ♫
♫ Hollow like the Engineer ♫

WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON? WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON?

TODD: …Oh my.

BAMA: ‘Graves’ directly comparing Corey and his so-called selfish return to climb back to the top to the Engineer’s famous opportunism!

TODD: ‘Graves’ is paranoid, Bama! He’s stabbing at shadows! Just like Corey said, ‘Graves’ accused Dolly last Anarchy of bowing down to Black Rainbow of all people!

BAMA: You say ‘paranoid’, I say he sees the TRUTH! He’s got an eye for every opponent! That’s how he’s been so successful!

TODD: Against opponents of the Revolution, Bama! Now he’s attacking his allies!

…Finally, finishing his slow, deliberate march, ‘Graves’ enters the ring and lifts the belt over his head.

[blue]♫ The workers won’t come second ♫
♫ Their needs are far great ♫
♫ Can’t let you stamp your name on it ♫
♫ Revolution will not wait ♫[

WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON? WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON?

Irwin finishes with a little banjo solo…

Before humbly sliding his instrument behind his back…

TODD: Strong words from ‘Graves’ and his merry band of misfits, claiming Corey wants to co-opt the Revolution to climb back to the top of the card!

BAMA: Strong and accurate! Of course that’s why Corey is back!

TODD: …Wait, didn’t Corey not go anywhere because he’s been ‘Micheal Graves’ this whole time!

BAMA: But then why would ‘Micheal Graves’ just trash Corey Smith if he’s Corey Smith!

TODD: Well, he’s… Mark Flynn… right?

BAMA: Now you’re getting it!

TODD: …I’m really not!

The entourage heads back up the ramp, as ‘Graves’ hands the belt off to the official, never taking his eyes off his opponent.

These two long-time adversaries stare each other down motionlessly…

As the official signals to the timekeeper!

DING DING!




"ALLEGEDLY" MICHEAL GRAVES©
- vs -
COREY SMITH

Non-title Match
Pure Wrestling Rules


TODD: Okay, I at least know the rules of this match! Pure Wrestling! Each competitor gets three rope breaks total! No closed fist punches to the face!

BAMA: And we know ONE of these competitors is Corey Smith and the other one is Mark Flynn! Corey dropped a loss to Flynn at the Cannabis Cup Final… and then a second one at the end of WarGames 2023…

TODD: I wouldn’t count that second one! It was two-on-one, Flynn had Ned in his corner!

Corey steps forward with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, shoulders loose, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

‘Graves’ tilts his masked head slowly, shoulders rolling back. His posture is tight, precise, like a coiled spring. He raises both hands high, a mock invitation to a collar-and-elbow tie-up.

TODD: ‘Graves’ offers to start with a collar-and-elbow tie-up… Will the faster Corey play into the hands of the more technical Fly-... er, ‘Graves’? I’m calling them by what they look like to reduce confusion!

BAMA: If I know one thing about Corey Smith, it’s that he ain’t backin’ down from nothin’! It might not be the smartest move, but ain’ no way he doesn’t accept ‘Gravy’’s challenge to lock horns!

Corey exhales sharply through his nose, grin fading into determination.

Indeed, Smith shoots forward, locking hands with Graves.

The two jockey for position, feet grapevining as they circle each other, hands moving to try and penetrate the other’s guard…

Graves’ shoulders hunch, and his masked face dips low — he grinds Corey backward with sharp footwork, forcing him into the corner.

TODD: Graves showing that veteran leverage right away — textbook positional wrestling!

BAMA: Graves is a chain-wrestling master, Todd! Corey’s dancing with a rattle snake!

Corey’s eyes widen, his lips pulling into a strained grimace as his back hits the buckles. He tries to wriggle free out of ‘Graves’’s grip! But ‘Graves’ presses Smith against the ropes, holding him there like an offensive lineman!

With Corey trapped against the ropes, the official starts a five-count!

ONE!

TWO!

TODD: …Wait! That light brush against the ropes doesn’t count as one of Corey’s rope breaks, does it?

ROPE BREAK

Corey Smith has TWO Rope Breaks Remaining


BAMA: Brilliant maneuver by Graves, using positional awareness to burn one of Smith’s previous rope breaks!

At the count of four, ‘Graves’ releases the grapple, raising both hands as the official backs him off the smaller Corey, who remains in the corner…

‘Graves’ feigns a clean break with a slow, exaggerated lift of his arms, like ‘What? ME disobey the rules?’… Corey releases the ropes and emerges, seeking another grapple…

When suddenly ‘Graves’ charges forward with his shoulder! Looking for a…

CORNER SPLASH!

Corey’s jaw clenches, instinct firing!

His hands latch onto the top ropes like they’re lifelines, legs springing up. With a surge of urgency, he snaps a rope-assisted kick into Graves’ chest!

Graves’ body jerks backward, arms flailing for a moment as he collapses to the mat with a theatrical flop, rolling onto his side.

TODD: Lightning fast kick by Smith! Corey battles Graves back with a smart counter!

BAMA: Smart? That’s a rope break, Todd! Read the rules!

Graves lies on the mat, masked face tilting toward the referee. His arm shoots out, finger extended in accusation, pointing directly at Corey’s grip, his hands still latched on the ropes. His body language is smug, almost triumphant despite taking the blow.

The official signals!

ROPE BREAK

Corey Smith has ONE Rope Break Remaining


TODD: That’s brutal! Corey had no choice — he had to defend himself!

BAMA: Choice or not, he’s already down to one rope break, Todd. That’s called experience. Graves is playing Chess while Corey’s still trying to figure out Guess Who!

TODD: One thing I will say… it’s never been more obvious that the man under the ‘Dark Warrior’ mask is currently Mark Flynn! Expertly exploiting the Pure Wrestling Rules to burn Corey’s very limited rope break resources!

Corey’s eyes flare, lips pressed tight as he shakes his head in frustration, pounding a fist into the turnbuckle pad. He mouths something toward the referee, clearly upset. The official shrugs, refusing to reverse the call. Corey exhales, before spinning back on his opponent.

Across from him, ‘Graves’ sits up slowly, his body language smug and satisfied. Then, deliberately, he rolls his shoulders and gets to his feet, a master who’s already tightened the screws on his younger opponent.

BAMA: ‘Graves’ has played Corey like a fiddle in the early going!

TODD: But, you’d be a fool to ever count Corey Smith out of a match! This one’s just getting started!
‘Graves’ charges Corey again, shoulders square, mask tilted forward with a hunter’s posture. He steps deliberately, heavy, meant to keep Corey cornered, possibly intending to burn his last rope break right now!

‘Graves’ charges!

But Corey shifts his weight lower, bouncing lightly, trying to duck under ‘Graves’’s attempted clench!

…As Corey tries to skirt by, ‘Graves’ catches Corey, yanking into a tight wristlock! Then, in a sudden transition, he slides behind Smith with a waist lock, jerking Corey’s body off his feet, trying to press him facefirst down to the mat!

…But as Corey’s body descends, he drops his hips, slips an elbow down, aaaaaand

SNAPMARE! ‘Graves’ goes up and over Corey’s shoulder!

…But ‘Graves’ front-somersaults, staying on his feet!

Corey, not to be out-done, rolls backwards with an almost gymnastic flip, preventing ‘Graves’ from taking a mount on him.

TODD: Corey escapes the hold!

BAMA: But ‘Graves’ is just gonna lock him in another hold! ‘Graves’ is Corey’s prison guard and Smith’s doing HARD TIME between those ropes!

‘Graves’ zips forward, trying for another grapple…

…But this time, Corey slips under, and starts breaking into a run!

He zips to the ropes, darting back toward ‘Graves’...

‘Graves’ straightens his spine, arms wide, his masked face turning side to side as he throws a…

HEAVY CHOP!

…Nope, Corey ducks it!

‘Graves’ grits his teeth, spinning to catch Corey on the way back with a…

LARIAT!

…Nope! Not even close, Corey ducks that one too!

[blue]TODD: Uh oh! Corey’s building up speed like a rocket car! And ‘Graves’ is too stubborn to get off the racetrack!

Corey bounces again, even faster off the ropes! ‘Graves’ bends forward, looking to clip Corey’s speed with a…

BACK BODY DROP!

…But Corey leapfrogs over, building EVEN MORE SPEED!

TODD: Look at the sheer, unmatched SPEED from Corey Smith! He’s turned this wrestling match into a track meet!

BAMA: And Graves looks like he’s tryin’ to kill flies with a swatter and missin’, Toddrick!

‘Graves’ exhales with frustration, arms wide looking to catch Corey in his mitts!

But Corey’s eyes narrow, his body coiling like a spring. He explodes forward with a surge of momentum, suddenly leaping into the air with a…

SHOTGUN DROPKICK!

…

CONNECTS!

‘Graves’’s body launches through the air like he just got hit by a Hummer! His masked head snapping back as his body crashes through the middle and top ropes!

TODD: This could turn into an ugly landing! That padding does virtually NOTHING to cushion the concrete outside!

‘Graves’ hands shoot out in desperation, clutching the top strand to stop himself from tumbling to the floor! His feet kick desperately to stop his backward momentum…

And he breathes heavily, relieved to be on the apron!

…

But the referee signals — ‘Graves’’s stopping himself on the apron is a rope break!

ROPE BREAK

‘Micheal Graves’ has TWO Rope Breaks Remaining


TODD: That’s one apiece! Graves is down to two!

BAMA: Big deal, Toddrick! ‘Graves’ still has the lead and he’s got the brains AND the smarts to burn Corey’s last one WELL BEFORE either of his two remaining breaks will come into play.

TODD: We’ll just s-... brains *and* smarts?

‘Graves’ steadies himself on the apron, his posture stiff with irritation. He barks at the official, arguing how the hell this is a rope break!

The official shrugs again, before pointing to the logo on his shirt! That’s all the justification he needs!

‘Graves’ shakes his head, rolling his shoulders before lunging back through the ropes… charging at Smith before Corey can retreat! Another grapple!

BAMA: There we go! Back in ‘Gravy’’s wheelhouse!

TODD: ‘Graves’ (if he is Flynn) is very good at chain wrestling, no doubt! But Corey Smith is one of the greatest wrestlers to ever grace the XWF as well, Bama!

Corey’s lips curl into a focused grin, his arms weaving quickly as the two exchange holds!

‘Graves’ tries an arm drag!

No! Corey twists through the air, latching a wristlock reversal!

Into a hammerlock!

No! ‘Graves’ spins through into a side-headlock!

NO! Corey pulls his head out and the two return to a neutral collar-and-elbow!

TODD: Corey’s keeping pace with Graves’ chain wrestling! …He might even be taking an advantage here!

‘Graves’ tucks low, executing a standing switch to zip behind Corey, trying to cinch a waistlock! His masked expression is tight, almost smug, thinking he’s finally got control…

But Corey’s eyes dart mischievously. He extends his ass backwards, bumping ‘Graves’ back a step! And Smith’s leg snaps up in a sudden…

MULE KICK!

Connects! Smith’s heel drives into ‘Graves’’s gut, shoving him back into the ropes!
The crowd cheers for Smith!

‘Graves’ grunts, arms flailing for balance. His chest caves from the impact as he rebounds off the ropes…

Corey’s face sharpens, a predator’s gleam in his eye. He spins, winding his leg back, the crowd roaring for a potential…

FACE PAIN DE-LUXE!!

Graves’ masked head jerks in panic, and, running on instinct stumbling backwards, clutching the  ropes for safety.

…Corey’s foot hangs in the air, like the sword of damocles, threatening but unreleased! He smiles ear-to-ear, before returning his foot to the mat!

The referee signals, pointing to ‘Graves’ gripping the ropes: another rope break used!

ROPE BREAK

‘Micheal Graves’ has ONE Rope Breaks Remaining


TODD: Graves is down to one rope break! Just like Corey!

BAMA: “Oh, that sneaky little—Corey didn’t even throw it! He wound up the kick, Graves thought it was coming and bailed!

TODD: A deviously clever move by Smith to even the score! Now each competitor has only one rope break remaining

…‘Graves’ realizes his error… he facepalms with an exaggerated slap, his masked head shaking. The crowd laughs.

Then his posture stiffens. His chest rises with a deep inhale. ‘Graves’ shoulders roll back, controlled, calm — the ring general regathering himself, resetting the chessboard.

Corey smiles ear-to-ear, knowing momentum has shifted in his favor, eager for another chance to tie-up with ‘Graves’!

…but, in a flash, ‘Graves’ zips forward, lunging low, hooking Corey’s ankle and tugging it out from under him!

DOUBLE LEG TAKEDOWN!

Corey stumbles, barely catching himself on his hands! He tries to spring back up to his feet…

But Graves’ hand darts up as Smith rises, fingers tangling in Corey’s hair. He jerks Corey back down to the mat with a cruel tug, posture radiating smug dominance as he cuts Corey’s running game off at the knees, before dropping a knee on Smith’s chest to prevent further escape attempts!

TODD: Ref! C’mon! That’s a hair pull!

BAMA: Where in the Pure Wrestling Rules does it say ‘no hair pulling’, Todd? Pull out the rule book, I’ll wait!

Corey winces, lips curling into a grimace as he claws at Graves’ grip. But Graves spins his hips, snapping Corey off his feet into a sharp…

HIP TOSS! Corey front-flips through the air, landing on his ass beside the ropes!

‘Graves’ keeps the attack going, pouncing into a mounted position above the prone Corey!

‘Graves’ rains raining down with piston-like fury, straight onto Corey’s skull and chest!

Corey raises his forearms, covering up tight, teeth gritted. His eyes dart sideways to the ropes… just within reach!

TODD: oooooooh, big decision time here! Does Corey want to burn his final rope break to force ‘Graves’ out of this mount!

BAMA: It’s a no-win scenario, Toddrick! It’s an escape momentarily… At which point, ‘Graves’ will just lock him in another hold! And Corey will be helpless to escape!

Smith’s body shifts… Like he’s considering a reach for the ropes!

…

Then! Suddenly, he twists with a burst of adrenaline, rolling Graves off-balance!

TODD: What agility! Corey escapes AND keeps his rope break!

Both men tumble across the mat, awkwardly tangled! They both shove off each other to scramble up to their feet!

As they both reach a vertical base, ‘Graves’’s arms suddenly SNAP around Corey’s waist…

Flipping him through the air!

NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX!

TODD: What a move!

‘Graves’ bridges over Smith’s body! The official drops to count!

ONE!

TW-

Suddenly, ‘Graves’ backward somersaults over Smiths’ prone form…

TODD: …Okay, this is impressive every time! We’re going to see back-to-BACK Northern Lights Suplexes!

‘Graves’, through sheer force of will, deadlifts Corey back up to his feet, trying to muscle Corey into a second…

NORTHERN LIGHTS SU-

…

Wait! No! Corey clamps down, anchoring his weight, preventing ‘Graves’’s back-to-back move!

TODD: There’s life in Corey Smith yet!

‘Graves’ dumps even more strength trying to get Smith up and over…

Corey lifts about a foot in the air…

But then brings himself down, and clasps ‘Graves’’s skull against his shoulder!

JAWBREAKER!

TODD: What a counter by Corey! And once more, the momentum shifts!

‘Graves’ staggers back, masked face jerking up, posture stumbling like he’s been rattled to the core!

Adrenaline firing through him. Corey dashes backwards for the ropes, springing forward with speed—

…

But ‘Graves’ charges right after him, just a half-step behind Smith’s sprint!

TODD: Was ‘Graves’ playing possum, or did he realize his moment was now or never?!?

Corey rebounds off the ropes, but instead of finding momentum, he collides gut-first with Graves’ knee!

KNEE LIFT!

Smith’s body jackknifes, rolling across the canvas, arms wrapped around his stomach in agony.

‘Graves’ spreads his arms wide, chest heaving, then thrusts a hand to his throat. The signal is clear.

TODD: ‘Graves’ is calling for it! THE END!

BAMA: Night-night, Corey!

‘Graves’ grabs Corey by the hair, forcing Smith to his feet… He latches on the front-facelock!

Pointing to the sky!

…HE LIFTS COREY! Perpendicular with the mat!

…

THE END!

…

……

IS COUNTERED!

Corey squirms loose,  finding the wherewithal to slide off the back as ‘Graves’ holds him for the delayed suplex cutter. His feet hit the mat, and he leaps into a desperate kick

As ‘Graves’ whirls around into a…

FACE PAIN DE-LUXE!!

…

……

CONNECTS!

The crowd explodes!

The kick cracks against Graves’ masked head with a thunderclap. ‘Graves’ body stiffens, then timber-falls to the mat like a felled redwood, landing flat beside the ropes.

TODD: OH MY GOD! He got him! Corey nailed the Face Pain De-Lux!

Corey collapses across Graves, chest heaving, hooking the far leg for the cover.

One!

Two!

THREE!

…

……


BUT ‘GRAVES’ FINGERS ARE CURLED AROUND THE BOTTOM ROPE!

BAMA: RING GENERAL! Even after getting kicked in the head, ‘Graves’ knows the ring like the back of his hand enough to grab the rope!

TODD: Impressive, Bama! But now, ‘Graves’ is OUT of rope breaks!

ROPE BREAK

‘Micheal Graves’ has NO Rope Breaks Remaining!!!


Corey rolls away, clutching his hair, raising an arm like he just won the match... Unfortunately for him, the official comes around and explains the situation… his arm slowly drops as frustration emanates from his face.

Meanwhile, ‘Graves’ lies sprawled on the mat, body limp, hand still clutching the rope like a lifeline.

TODD: For the moment, Corey has the advantage! He has one more rope break than ‘Graves’!

BAMA: But never count the ‘Dark Warrior’ out, Toddy baby! He’s gone 54 weeks without losing on Anarchy! He might just have one last trick up his sleeve!

TODD: But will it be enough to take down Corey Smith?

Corey argues with the referee as ‘Graves’ slowly starts coming to, using the ropes to help himself rise to a standing position. Corey runs his soft hands through his sweat-slicked hair as he stares at the referee in disbelief.

That’s when an exhausted ‘Graves’ uses every last ounce of his energy to strike!

‘Graves’ grabs Flynn by the back of his head, smashing Corey’s skull into his knee with a reverse DDT! But ‘Graves’ doesn’t stop there- he follows up immediately with a Cross Rhodes! Corey Smith’s head slams into the knee, and then into the mat in immediate succession!

TODD: LOGICAL CONCLUSION! HE JUST HIT THE LOGICAL CONCLUSION!

BAMA: That might be the ‘logical conclusion’ to this match if you ask me, Todd!

The referee drops down to count the pinfall attempt!



1!











2!!











3!!!



WINNER: ‘Allegedly’ Micheal Graves


TODD: I can’t believe it, I can’t believe it! The Anarchy Champion just pulled another rabbit out of his hat, and now, he’s riding into Relentless on one of the most impressive streaks we’ve ever seen!


BAMA: I don’t think Corey Smith can believe it either, Todd! He thought he had this match won, but the referee clearly had different plans!


TODD: If I know anything about Corey Smith, Bama: he won’t let this be the end of it! But he can’t do anything more tonight: because that’s the end of our show! Thank you, God Bless, and make sure you pre-order all 3 Nights of Relentless before we run out of copies!


BAMA: It’s going to be off-the-rails in Miami!


TODD: That’s our show, folks! We will see you all next time in MIAMI for the best damn Premium Live Event of the year, every year: RELENTLESS!


Fade Out.

Thanks and Preeshes to…

MATCH WRITERS
Better Call Sol
Bright Shiny Nickles
It’s the Principle of the Thing

SEGMENT WRITERS
Hold the Kline
Charles-in-Charge
Atty-Three-Belts

AND EVERYYONE WHO RP’D!
]]>

THE ‘GO HOME’ SHOW FOR RELENTLESS IX
[Image: vuE1ZV0.png]
09 - 04 - 2025

LIVE! FROM THE GATEWAY CENTER ARENA

COLLEGE PARK, GEORGIA




AMBER MANSLEY
- vs -
RAZOR BLADE

Singles


[Image: wireline.png]




SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
MARISOL VILARO
- vs -
XXXVI

Triple Threat


[Image: wireline.png]




LARRY TACT
- vs -
P.V.E.

Singles


[Image: wireline.png]




ATARA RAVEN
- vs -
MR. OZ (with Thias Watts at ringside)

Singles w/Valet


[Image: wireline.png]




CELESTINE GALE
- vs -
REGGIE ESTRADA

Singles


[Image: wireline.png]



Tag-Team X-treme Rules Match

DARREN DANGEROUS © & CENTURION
- vs -
DA BING BONG TWINZZZ

If Da Bing Bong Twinz win, they get a future Anarchy tag title match! If Darren takes the pin, the 24/7 title will change hands!

Xtreme Rules
2 RPs per Team @ 1K only


[Image: wireline.png]





"ALLEGEDLY" MICHEAL GRAVES©
- vs -
COREY SMITH

Non-title Match
Pure Wrestling Rules



TODD: Welcome one, welcome all to the biggest Thursday Night Anarchy of the year! We are just a stone’s throw away from Relentless, and boy oh boy do we have a show for you tonight!

BAMA: That’s right, Todd! We get to see everyone’s favorite XWF stars, live in action! Who will win, and who will lose? Who’s going to ride into Relentless on a wave of momentum, and who’s going to crash and burn before we even get to Miami?! We’re going to find out here tonight in College Park, Georgia!

TODD: Tonight’s show is highlighted by a HUGE Main Event match-up! We have XWF Legend Corey Smith, squaring off one-on-one in a “Pure Wrestling Rules” match against the XWF Anarchy Champion, Micheal Graves!

BAMA: Allegedly!

TODD: But that’s not all! We also have the X-treme Champion, Darren Dangerous, in action tonight! He will be teaming up alongside the returning Centurion in our co-main event!

BAMA: And don’t forget about that huge matchup between Oz and Atty!

TODD: We also have THREE members of The Black Rainbow scheduled to perform! Will their underhanded tactics usher them to dominance on tonight’s Anarchy, or will the XWF roster overcome the spiral?


BAMA: Damn it Todd, we have it all for our fans tonight! I heard we’re even going to get a special, 1-on-1 interview between Steve Sayors and the Acting General Manager of Warfare! I think tonight’s shaping up to be one of the most X-treme Thursdays OF ALL TIME!

TODD: So stick close to your TVs, folks, because tonight’s card is loaded with action you just won’t want to miss!

[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: For our opener tonight, the ring is about to be overflowing with personality!

BAMA: Yep! We got a hothead with a short fuse sharing the ring against an… in-floo-en-ser! All the ingredients are here for something explosive!



''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.[/font][/size][/align]

ANARCHY: What?!? No freaking way! Is he here? Is Razor Blade in the building?!?

TODD: …Did you say something Bama?

BAMA: Wasn’t me. But I heard it too.

TODD: …Weird high-pitched… Like a spirit or a… What would you describe it as.

BAMA: Like the… show itself was speaking for a moment?

Smoke emanated from the stage, 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.

TODD: Regardless. Razor Blade is in the building! He’s had his highs and lows this year, but he secured a very impressive win on Warfare over his longtime teammate Latoya Hixx!

BAMA: Razor’s got all the pieces in place to make major moves on Anarchy! He just needs a little refinement! A touch of control to cool his temper!

TODD: It’s true, Bama! The most he looked in control was in victory against Hixx! Can he do the same tonight?

''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 suits as he knelt down, tapping the ramp with his fist, jumping up to his feet as he extended his arms out.

JC: The American Storm has been teaming together in the XWF for over a year! But never before have they faced off one-on-one! Mano a mano!

BG: Phew, finally, Jackie, you’re making sense! Yes, Blade and Hixx have been on the same side of the ring many times… But what’ll happen when they go head-to-head!

''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 down the ramp, high fiving members of the crowd in the front row before going over and doing the same thing on the other side of the ramp. Razor walked down the rest of ]the ramp, stopping at the end of it as he looked around before walking towards the steel steps. He glanced down at them, before tapping them with his hand as he raised his arms trying to pump up the crowd before walking up the steel steps as he scaled the turnbuckle, looking around before extending his arms as even more pyro went off on the stage. Razor hopped down into the ring.


…

“Break It Down” by Lil Debbie plays the venue’s interior surround systems. The audience immediately boos the young athlete coming out from the backstage area smiling at the hatred she receives. Amber stands center stage with her hands on her hips, staring out to the audience before doing a slow twirl where a spotlight shines only on her, creating the illusion of a silhouette. Once she faces the audience again, she snaps her fingers, and the lights return to normal before strutting down to the ring like on a model’s runway.

ANNOUNCER: "Introducing on her way to the ring! Hailing from Boca Raton, Florida! At five feet, seven inches tall, weighing in at 143 pounds! She is “The Influence” Amber Mansley!

TODD: And here she is! ‘The Influence’ Amber Mansley!

BAMA: @AmberInfluence on the ol’ X.com! She’s declared herself The Name! That she IS the Anarchy brand!

TODD: She also declared that, if it were up to her, she’d… BURY Razor.

BAMA: And not in a dirt sheets kinda way, like… BURY him alive!

TODD: Strong words for sure, Bama! But can she back them up? We’re about to find out in her Anarchy debut tonight!

Amber stops before the apron facing the ring, then looks both ways at the fans at ringside booing her. She gently leans over the apron, shrugs her shoulders, and then kisses the camera. Amber holds onto the bottom rope with both hands before spinning herself into the ring, lying on the canvas in the center. The camera transitions to a sky-view with a single spotlight on her in the arena, and from the camera’s point of view, it looks like an artwork of Amber in a silhouette fashion. She gets back on her feet, snaps her finger to alert production to brighten the lights, and silences her music as she takes refuge in a corner, kicking her body up on the top rope to relax.

The competitors emerge from their corners and meet in the center of the ring.

The official signals to the timekeeper!

DING DING

AMBER MANSLEY
- vs -
RAZOR BLADE

Singles


BAMA: It’s the dawn of a new age, Toddrick! Amber Mansley is on Thursday nights, and suddenly Anarchy feels like its chockful of Star Power! INFLUENCE!

TODD: She’s definitely got the attitude part down! But she’s gotta back it up in the ring with Razor Blade!

Amber circles Razor, smirking, holding her hands out like she wants to lockup with Razor.

Razor, hot-tempered, charges in with a lock-up.

TODD: Starting off with a collar-and-elbow tie-up here… A little catch-as-catch-can!

Razor surges forward for the grapple!

…But Amber immediately slips under, spins behind, and back-handed SMACKS the back of Razor’s skull.

BAMA: HA! Look at that, already embarrassing the boy. That’s called control, Toddrick!

TODD: I call it poor sportsmanship!

BAMA: Know what else that’s called? IN-FLOO-ENCE!

TODD: …Bama, I’m starting to think you don’t know what ‘influence’ means.

Razor scowls, rubbing the back of his head in disbelief for Mansley’s audacity as Amber turns away from her opponent, circling the ring and blowing kisses for the arena. They rain down boos upon her! Again, she smiles and shrugs, like it’s all attention to her.

…Razor snorts furiously, spinning on his opponent, charging in again! Amber raises her arms like she’s ready for another grapple…

…but, at the last moment, Amber sidesteps, tripping Razor by the ankle!

Razor hits the mat face-first! He quickly rolls onto his back, ready to defend a possible mount!

…But, no, Mansley’s back to posing for the crowd with a mock influencer selfie gesture…

…Wait, no, that’s not pantomime, she’s actually taking a selfie with the booing crowd behind her.

TODD: …Mansley’s… REALLY taking her time, showing everyone she’s got confidence… maybe too much.

BAMA: And these people can’t complain, Toddrick! That just means they get more sweet, sweet minutes watching Amber Mansley on their screens!

TODD: I think booing falls under the umbrella of complaining, Bama!

Razor furiously raises up off the mat!

In a flash, Amber drops her phone as she sees the American Nightmare coming at her! Razor goes for a…

BIONIC ELBOW!

…But Amber ducks under! Razor’s arm shoots by… and Amber catches him as she rises from the duck with a…

SHARP ELBOW TO THE HEAD!

Razor staggers back into the corner…

Amber climbs up to the second rope with agility…

And starts delivering RAPID-FIRE corner knees to the head and body!

AMBER’S TREND!

TODD: Ooooh, finally seeing some of Amber’s wrestling ability! Those corner knees will sap the life out of any opponent!

Razor finally raises his arm in a guard position, preventing the flow of knees straight to his temples and chest.

Amber replies by latching onto his raised arm and dragging him back toward the center of the ring. Mansley whips Razor towards herself… She turns!

SPINNING BACK FIST!

Razor catches it on the side of the head, spinning in place!

As he spins, Amber wraps her arms around his waist!

GERMAN SUPLEX!

TODD: She calls that sequence, ‘Stay Mad!’

BAMA: And these people can stay mad all they like, Todd! Because their booing? Means Amber is influencing them!

TOD: …Sure, arguably, fine.

Amber clings onto the bridge! Razor’s shoulders are against the mat!

The official drops to count!

ONE!

TWO!

THR-Razor kicks out!


Amber sits up from the German suplex bridge, and looks straight at the hard cam. She points at Razor on the mat, delivers a thumbs-down at the camera, then blows it a kiss.

TODD: Lot of showboating from Amber Mansley here! If she’s not careful, she might give Razor a window for a comeback!

BAMA: You don’t get #CONTENT, Toddrick. Each of these moments is BOUND to go ULTRA-MEGA-VIRAL! More eyes on the XWF! I hope this match NEVER ends!

…Razor slowly rises to his feet. Amber sees it coming because she’s checking her hair in the camera and sees Razor behind her…

She shoots over, grabbing Razor by the skull, spins him in a little circle just to show she can…

Then suddenly latches on a front-face lock… Aaaaand

SNAP DDT!

…But, Instead of immediately covering, Mansley kips up and poses like she’s on a runway. The crowd boos loudly, which she soaks in with a sarcastic curtsy.

Amber saunters over, steps on Razor’s chest like a footstool, before leaning over the ropes at the crowd snapping pictures of her in the front row.

TODD: This is humiliation at this point. She’s trying to make a… highlight reel, not a wrestling match.

BAMA: The fact you’re so upset? Means Amber is WORKING. She IS the Anarchy brand!

…Razor sloooooowly rises up off his feet.

But Amber is communicating with the front row, giving them instructions on how to properly capture her in a photograph…

TODD: Uh oh! Amber can’t see Razor behind her! Too busy staring at the cameras on her!

Amber finally turns around…

Straight into Razor who whips her into a…

BOOM! Snap Powerslam!

Todd: “Whoa! Razor Blade turns it around just like that! He’s not done yet!”

Amber scrambles up, furious to be even briefly outshined…

But Razor meets her with a…

DROPKICK! Mansley gets sent her sprawling back to the corner!

But Blade charges, latching his arm around Mansley’s neck…

BULLDOG!

And Razor kips up, pounding his chest as the crowd cheers!

TODD: And in just a few short moves, Razor Blade has turned this around!

BAMA: How’s this punk gonna ruin a debut like this? This is AMBER MANSLEY’S moment!

TODD: And Razor might just be about to steal it!

Razor crawls over Mansley’s chest, hooking the leg!

The official counts!

ONE!

TWO!

THR-NO! Mansley forces a shoulder up!

Razor shakes his head, fires up the crowd, calling for the Blade Rose!

Amber shakes her head furiously, slowly rising back to her feet… As Blade creeps up from behind, latching on the guillotine hold!

BLADE RO-

…NO! Amber slips out, catching Razor in a hammerlock!

TODD: …Wow! Surprisingly technical counter by Mansley!

Amber grits her teeth as she suddenly shoves Razor toward the ropes! Razor goes sprawling forward, bounces off the ropes…

Straight into a BICYCLE KNEE from Amber Mansley!

BAMA: Slay Boo!

TODD: Yes, that is what that move is called!

BAMA: But, also, Amber, Slay, Boo!

Razor looks dazed and confused, his legs jelly under him… As Amber breaks into a sprint running past him, bounces off the ropes…

BOOM!

IT’S GIVING FINISHER (Springboard Forearm Smash!)

Razor crumples to the mat.

BAMA: It’s giving ‘This match is ovah!’ It’s giving ‘THE DAWN OF A DAY IN THE XWF’!

Amber hooks the leg, blows a kiss to the hard camera as the referee counts—

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

WINNER: AMBER MANSLEY


Amber poses with her hands up like she’s snapping selfies, mocking Razor as he rolls out clutching his jaw.

TODD: Amber Mansley with a dominant debut victory! Razor Blade gave her a scare, but she shut the door emphatically.

BAMA: Better get used to it, Toddrick! Amber Mansley’s here, and she ain’t going anywhere! Except the TOP![/blue]

[Image: wireline.png]





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. 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, outstreches 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.


TODD: It’s the ever-mysterious 36! One of the new fan favorites here on Thursday nights. The masked phenom has quickly catapulted himself up the Anarchy rankings, and is already slated to challenge Thunder Knuckles for the Revolution Championship at Relentless! Tonight’s triple threat is going to be a great chance for him to showcase his skills heading into that big-time matchup!

BAMA: TK told me backstage that he can’t wait to rip this freak’s mask off at Relentless!

TODD: Well Bama, that epic showdown is gonna have to wait: because tonight, 36 is taking on two gorgeous women at the same time!

BAMA: WOAH! Pause, Todd- what kind of show is this again?

TODD: It’s the Go-Home show to Relentless!






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.

BAMA: You were talking about fan favorites, Todd? Just listen to the roar of the crowd! They love them some “Spoiled” Summer Page- and frankly, I do too!

TODD: Summer Page certainly gets a reaction from our audience! But she’s going to need more than just devilishly good looks if she wants to walk away with the win here tonight.

BAMA: I heard a rumor that Summer Page has been “wrestling between the sheets” with former Universal Champion James Shark- and if that’s true, that means she might have a bunch of new tricks in her bag for this match!

TODD: Who told you that, Bama?! Summer has made it explicitly clear time and time again that there was NEVER anything between her and Shark! Who’s spreading these nasty rumors about Summer Page?

BAMA: Well….James Shark is!









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 match to begin.

TODD: What a grand entrance for Marisol Vilaro! But her grandiose sense of self has rubbed some people the wrong way.

BAMA: When you’re as rich and gorgeous as Marisol Vilaro- you should be allowed to do whatever you want!

TODD: Well Bama, she definitely agrees with you on that one! Maybe you should sign up to join VilaroFit, you’re already parroting her talking points!

BAMA: Do you really think she’d let me join?!




SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
MARISOL VILARO
- vs -
XXXVI




DING! DING! DING!


The bell rings and all three competitors circle each other warily in the center of the ring. XXXVI, draped in his mysterious attire, moves with cerebral precision. Summer Page adjusts her gear with practiced confidence, while Marisol Vilaro stretches against the ropes, her eyes calculating the worth of both opponents.

Summer and Marisol exchange a knowing glance, their falling out temporarily set aside as they recognize the threat posed by the masked high-flyer. XXXVI tilts his head, as if sensing their unspoken alliance, and he assumes a defensive crouch in the corner.

TODD: Uh oh, what’s going on here? It looks like Vilaro and Page have made some sort of deal!

BAMA: What’s going on is….I think Summer Page might be coming back to the #VilaroFit team! Maybe she struck a deal to get free admission to VilaroU!

Todd: Whatever the terms of their deal: they can’t be good for 36!

The action explodes when Summer and Marisol rush XXXVI simultaneously. The masked wrestler springs to life, ducking under Summer's attempted clothesline while catching Marisol with a lightning-quick dropkick that sends her stumbling backward. Summer spins around, only to eat a crisp superkick that echoes throughout the arena. XXXVI doesn't pause to admire his work, he just springs to the middle rope and launches himself backward with a beautiful moonsault onto both women!

TODD: 36 has just exploded out of the gates here! He’s taking the fight to both those women!

BAMA: Yeah, no wonder he wears a mask! The only thing he’s good at is beating up chicks! He’s probably warranted across the country for domestic battery!

All three competitors scatter and regroup. Summer rolls to the outside, clutching her jaw where the superkick connected, while Marisol pulls herself up using the ropes. XXXVI lands gracefully and moves to press his advantage, but Marisol is ready this time. She catches him with a knee to the midsection as he approaches, doubling him over.

"Come on, Summer!" Marisol calls out, temporarily putting aside their differences. "We can deal with each other after we handle him!"

Summer slides back into the ring, and the temporary alliance reforms. They grab XXXVI by the arms and whip him into the ropes. On the rebound, they attempt a double clothesline, but XXXVI ducks under and bounces off the opposite ropes. This time he comes back with a springboard crossbody that takes both women down!

The masked wrestler kips up and immediately heads to the top turnbuckle. The crowd buzzes as he perches there, arms outstretched like a bird of prey surveying the battlefield below. He launches into a shooting star press, but both Summer and Marisol roll away at the last second, leaving XXXVI to crash and burn on the canvas!

TODD: A big miss from 36!

BAMA: Those spicy mamma jammas did not want to be caught beneath that masked goon- and frankly, I can’t blame them!

Summer is first to capitalize, pulling XXXVI up and planting him with her trademarked "Spoiled Rotten" backstabber out of nowhere!

TODD: He’s just been SPOILED ROTTEN!

BAMA: First, he missed his shooting star press. Then, Summer showed him what real star-power looks like![/blue

Summer moves in for the cover, but Marisol breaks it up with a sharp kick to Summer's ribs almost immediately!

"I don't think so!" Marisol sneers, yanking Summer up to her feet.

[blue]BAMA: This truce looks like it could be short-lived!

TODD: Marisol betrays Summer Page: who ever could have seen this coming?!

BAMA: Not me, Todd! That’s for sure! I want to see those ladies get back together forever!

TODD: Keep dreaming, Bama!

The two women lock up in the center of the ring, their temporary truce forgotten. Summer gets the better of the exchange initially, using her technical prowess to transition into a side headlock. Marisol powers out, sending Summer into the ropes, but Summer comes back with a tilt-a-whirl that she expertly converts into a Russian leg sweep.

As Summer gets to her feet, she notices XXXVI stirring. She looks back to Marisol, who is also slowly stirring- and also noticing XXXVI. Marisol pleads for Summer to once again put their differences aside. Begrudgingly, Summer works with Marisol again to pull the masked wrestler to his feet and set him up for a double suplex. XXXVI blocks the attempt, then counters by somehow managing to suplex both women simultaneously!

TODD: That incredible display of strength and technique has the crowd on their feet! This match has basically turned into a 2-on-1, and 36 is still holding his own!

BAMA: He’s just beating on women! That’s not impressive! What IS impressive, is that Marisol got Summer to keep working with her after breaking up that pin!

TODD: Summer is awfully gullible…

BAMA: VilaroU calls it ‘impressionable’, Todd!

TODD: Wait, how do you know what VilaroU calls it?!

BAMA: Because I just signed up for their classes!

TODD: Oh Lord…

All three competitors are down momentarily. XXXVI is first to stir, his otherworldly resilience showing as he kips up his feet amidst the crowd’s uproar. Meanwhile, Summer and Marisol are helping each other up, their alliance still holding, but XXXVI is ready for them. He charges forward and takes both women down with a double slingblade that he executes with precision!

Not content to let them recover, he heads to the top rope again!

And this time….he connects with a frog splash on Summer Page!

He makes the cover, and the referee drops down to count!



1!







2!






MARISOL BREAKS UP THE PIN!!!!


TODD: 36 almost had it there, but Marisol snatched it away at the last second!

BAMA: I told you she was going to be a good, true friend to Summer Page again!

TODD: As if! She doesn’t care about Summer: she just broke up that pin to save her own skin!

The action becomes frantic as all three competitors scramble for position. After a brief back and forth, XXXVI catches Marisol with a dragon screw leg whip that sends her tumbling to the outside, leaving him alone in the ring with Summer.

The spoiled socialite and the masked enigma circle each other cautiously. Summer feints a lock-up, then surprises XXXVI with her "Total Knockout" superkick, but the high-flyer's reflexes are too fast for her! He matrix-dodges backward, avoiding the boot by mere inches.

XXXVI responds with his own superkick, but Summer sidesteps and immediately grabs him for her "Golden Rule" reverse neckbreaker.

IT CONNECTS!

Summer quickly transitions into her "In Your Dreams" sleeper hold, trying to put the masked wrestler away!


TODD: Summer Page has that choke locked in tight! She might just choke 36 out!

BAMA: Gawd dayum Todd! I wish she was choking me!

XXXVI struggles in the sleeper hold, his movements becoming more labored as Summer cinches it in tighter….



And tighter……





And tighter still….




Just as it looks like XXXVI might fade, Marisol slides back into the ring and breaks up the submission with a vicious kick to the back of Summer’s head!

TODD: Marisol saved it just in the knick of time! That’s three times now that Marisol has stopped a finish!

BAMA: If I were here, I’d be more concerned about winning this match! She’s too focused on what everyone else is in there doing- and not focused enough on her own offense!

TODD: Don’t give her any dark ideas, Bama!

Marisol mocks Summer as she pulls her one-time friend away from XXXVI. The two women trade strikes in the center of the ring while XXXVI recovers from the sleeperhold in the corner. Summer gets the better of the exchange with Marisol, using a high knee to stagger Vilaro, then Summer whips her into the corner where XXXVI is still recovering! Marisol crashes into the masked wrestler, sandwiching them both into the turnbuckle.

Summer charges in for a splash, looking to crush both opponents at once, but XXXVI manages to push both himself and Marisol out of the way! Summer eats the turnbuckle pad and stumbles backward, right into a German suplex from Marisol!

Marisol holds the bridge on the German suplex, but XXXVI is already moving in to break it up. He springs to the top rope with cat-like agility and comes off with a double stomp right to Summer's midsection, breaking up the pin attempt before the referee could even drop down to count!


TODD: And just like, it’s once again anyone’s match!

BAMA: Momentum has been shifting back and forth so much in this match, I think it’s making my head spin! I’m getting dizzy just watching it!

All three wrestlers are showing the effects of the grueling match. Summer's usually pristine appearance is disheveled, Marisol is drenched in sweat, and even XXXVI's movements aren't quite as fluid as they once were!

Nonetheless, XXXVI doesn’t slow down. He charges right for Marisol Vilaro!


He charges right into a Vilaróizer!



A fisherman’s suplex from out of nowhere!!!



TODD: Vilaróizer! Vilaróizer! Marisol just hit that suplex out of nowhere!

BAMA: Uh oh, this could spell trouble for that masked freak!

TODD: Wait, what’s Summer Page doing?!

BAMA: She’s climbing the ropes, Todd!


Vilaro rests atop the mat next to her prey, the masked XXXVI, taking a quick breather after pulling off her patented fisherman’s suplex.



Vilaro doesn’t even see Summer Page ascending the ropes!



But the crowd does-



AND THE POP IS GINORMOUS!


Summer Page leaps into the air with the MOST PERFECT MOONSAULT EVER!


IT CONNECTS RIGHT ATOP XXXVI!


BAMA: MPME! MPME!

TODD: Oh God, these women are just destroying 36’s body right now!



XXXVI is completely flatlined inside the ring, receiving back-to-back big moves from Vilaro and Page!


Vilaro and Page are both laid flat on the mat as well, but once they lock eyes-


They know exactly what they need to do!


Both women climb atop XXXVI- at ALMOST exactly the same time-


And the referee drops down to count the pin!


1!







2!!











3!!!





The referee counts to three! Both women start celebrating their victory!




BAMA: Wait, what just happened?! Who won?!

TODD: They pinned him at the same time! It looks like, we may have a dra-




But then, the referee walks over to Summer Page, grabbing her by the wrist….AND RAISING HER HAND!



Winner by PINFALL - Summer Page



Marisol Vilaro’s eyes go wide. Her mouth drops, and she looks like she’s just seen a ghost. Summer Page gives her a sheepish ‘sorry’ after the referee drops her hand: but you can see that Summer doesn’t really mean it. While Vilaro stands there steaming, Summer Page just rushes to the turnbuckle and climbs the top rope!


The crowd goes crazy for Summer as she raises both her hands in victory!


Vilaro, completely dismayed at the sight, steps towards the referee and begins screaming bloody murder at him! She’s screaming highway robbery! Meanwhile, Summer Page is just standing up on the ropes, celebrating her victory- or perhaps, rubbing it in!


TODD: I’ve never seen that! I thought they both got to the pin at the same time, but I guess the referee saw Summer get there first! Talk about “Spoiled”!

BAMA: Oh man! Marisol Vilaro is not going to let this one go, I can already sense it! Summer Page might’ve just made a real enemy out of her former friend…

TODD: But Summer didn’t do anything wrong! The referee just saw her make the pin first!

BAMA: But I think Vilaro might just see things a bit differently! Summer Page might want to watch her back from here on out!

[Image: wireline.png]


In the backstage area, Steve Sayors sits in front of a tarp with the XWF logo, microphone in hand. Beside Steve, we see three chairs.

Two of the chairs are empty.

But in the last chair, we see the Acting General Manager and Interim Head of The Corporation: Charlie Nickles! The Nickleman is dressed in loose-fitting sweatpants, a black shirt, and a plaid vest.

Steve Sayors: Charlie, Relentless is almost here! You’re walking into a Universal Title match with Kieran King and Dolly Waters… but I’ve got to ask: no suit tonight? For months now, that’s been your trademark!

Charlie chuckles low, leaning back and folding his arms as he makes eye contact directly with the camera.

Charlie Nickles: That suit was never me, Steve. It was just a costume. Just something to make the people upstairs comfortable with me. Something that told them I could play nice, that they could ‘trust’ me.

But suits don’t win fights. Suits don’t make champions.

Steve Sayors: So this is…the old Charlie Nickles? The “Classic” Charlie you spoke of before your match with Maraeth?

Charlie Nickles: ‘Classic’ Charlie never left, Steve. He just had to choke on a tie for a while. He just had to play his part in Geppetto’s sick little games, just long enough for him to cut the strings entirely.

Steve looks at Charlie warily, but carries on nonetheless.

Steve Sayors: Some people are saying that after Relentless, your “Acting GM” status may not continue. Can you comment on the truth of those rumors?

Charlie leans forward in his chair, his smirk hardening into something sharper, something more sinister.

Charlie Nickles: “Acting GM”, “Interim Head of The Corporation”...these are just names. You take one away, I’ll carve another out of somebody’s hide. So understand this, Steve: the second I reclaim my Universal Championship, nobody’s gonna talk about whether or not I’m “still in charge”.

They’ll just know.

The blood I spill at Relentless will speak for itself.

Steve looks off towards the side with a clear look of uncomfortability. After taking a few seconds to himself, Steve turns back towards The dressed-down Nickleman.

Steve Sayors: Speaking of Kieran and Dolly: their absence tonight has raised some eyebrows. Neither one is slated to appear on the final XWF show before Relentless. What’s your take on that?

Charlie’s laugh is cruel and drawn out. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before answering.

Charlie Nickles: My take? These empty chairs tell you everything you need to know. This is the last lap before the biggest race of the year, and where is our “Champion”? Where is our “King”?

Not here, that’s for damn sure.

They’re in hiding.

Because they’re scared to look a Nickleman in the eye after what I did on Warfare.

They’re hoping the less you see of them, the less you remember that noose tightening around their necks.

But me? I’m here. I’ve always been here, and I’m always going to be here.

Because The Nickleman don’t run. He don’t duck fights- he hunts them down.

That’s the fundamental difference between me and them, Steve. They cling to the shadows when their backs are against the wall…but me?

Well…I’m always in the spotlight, baby!

Steve Sayors: Some would say that maybe they’re just preparing, that they’re saving themselves for the big match at Relentless!

Charlie Nickles: Preparing for what? For my inevitable victory?

You don’t skip the battlefield and call it strategy, Steve. You skip it because you’re scared of who’s waiting on the other side. And I’ve been waiting.

Watching.

Salivating at the very thought of it!

Charlie pauses, glancing off to the side like something flickered through his mind. His voice lowers, quieter but sharper.

Charlie Nickles: When the dust settles at Relentless, nobody’s going to be talking about unions, about crowns, or about GM tags.

They’ll just be talking about one thing, and one thing only: that damned Charlie Nickles!

Charlie leans closer to the mic, a devilish look gleaming in his eye.

Charlie Nickles: …and maybe, just maybe Steve: they’ll be talking about someone else, too.

About family.

About blood.

Steve Sayors: Wait. What do you mean by that?

Charlie Nickles: Let’s just say: I’m not the only Nichols who knows how to fight.

Steve Sayors: Are you saying—

Charlie pushes himself up out of the chair, not even letting Steve finish his question. Charlie doesn’t need to answer, he just lets the silence stretch before walking out of frame.

Steve is left sitting awkwardly, looking from Charlie’s empty chair to the two unoccupied seats beside him.

Steve Sayors: Whelp, we had three chairs…but at least one got filled.

The camera lingers on the empty chairs beside Sayors before cutting away.



[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: Folks, the action keeps on rolling and we’re about to see a barn burner!

BAMA: Absolutely! We’re about to be graced by the presence of a bo-nee-fide LEGEND of wrestling! A truly unmatched specimen!

TODD: Agreed, Bama! Larry Tact *is* a TPW Hall-of-Famer! And a former World Champion! An-

BAMA: I was talkin’ ‘bout Preston Vanderlay Esquire! THE UNDEFEATED XWF LEGEND!

TODD: …*sigh*... well, we may not agree on who is the ‘legend’ in this match. But, it’s certain both of these men are in for their stiffest challenges in recent memory!



"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.

TODD: There he is! The Tactilizing One! Larry Tact! Since coming less-than-INCHES in challenging for the Anarchy title, Tact has been on a tear!

BAMA: No doubt, Toddrick! He absolutely dominated Latoya Hixx last Warfare! And he logged an impressive victory over the young phenom, Dom Strife *and* non-XWFer, Helena Handbasket at Smashed 2!

TODD: The wins are starting to pick up for the Tactilizing One! But a win over this competitor… Even I *have* to admit, would catapult his stock in the XWF!

BAMA: Because he’s undefeated!

TODD: …Technically correct.

BAMA: And an XWF Legend!

TODD: …

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.

…



“Paper Planes” by M.I.A. hits the speakers. The arena blacks out completely as a cold robotic voice echoes:

“Please stand by for a priority broadcast from the office of Preston Vanderlay Esquire… Wrestling’s Wealthiest Winner.”

A massive golden “V” lights up on the titantron. Suddenly, the curtain parts, not for Preston, but for two identically dressed male attendants in tuxedos, who roll out an absurdly long red carpet lined with gold trim, leading all the way to ringside. They are followed by a fog machine team in full uniform, blasting synthetic mist infused with a $700 designer cologne.

The beat drops, and the words “Take your money” pulse with the lights, right as a custom-built gold-plated luxury mobility throne rises from beneath the stage. Reclining in it like a Roman emperor is Preston Vanderlay Esquire, draped in a white silk trench coat with golden lapels, his sunglasses gleaming with his initials etched on them.

BAMA: And here he is! PRESTON. VANDERLAY ESQUIRE. XWF LEGEND!

TODD: Oh shuddup, Bama! PVE *bought* his XWF Legend slot from Jimmy Stars! That “Hall of Legends” shrine he installed is as phony as he is!

BAMA: Call it what you will, Bama! But since he’s come to the XWF, Mister PVE has been a man on a MISSION!

PVE’s not alone. Flanking him on each side in slow, synchronized choreography are his disciples Briggs Wellington, Dashford Luxe, and Regan Vale.

Briggs Wellington stomps down first, arms crossed, cracking his neck, dressed in an emerald suit-vest over tactical gear. Dashford Luxe flips onto the ramp out of nowhere, striking a pose midair before moonwalking partway down like he’s dancing through stock options. Regan Vale walks while cracking knuckles that are clad in black leather gloves. Her eyes are wild and yearning.

As Preston’s throne glides forward on a hidden track, attendants throw faux stock certificates and shredded cease-and-desist orders into the crowd like confetti. Gold sparks rain from the ceiling while a voiceover plays:

“Introducing the undisputed architect of all victory… Wrestling’s one true trust fund tactician… PRESTON. VANDERLAY. ESQUIRE.”

At ringside, a plush ottoman step unit is rolled into place. Preston stands, slowly removes his jacket, and hands it to an assistant like it’s a crown jewel. His disciples form a loose triangle behind him as he ascends the stairs one step at a time, pausing on the apron to scan the crowd with visible disdain.

BAMA: PVE dissected Michael Saint! He beat the Revolution Title #1 contender, XXXVI *and* Mrs. James Raven!

TODD: HE didn’t beat ANYONE! His employees did!

BAMA: Which contractually means HE did! You’re just arguing semantics again, Todd! Point is, in the record books, PVE is UNDEFEATED!

TODD: ..*sigh*...you are correct, Bama. PVE’s menagerie of competitors haven’t lost yet. But tonight, the biggest threat to PVE’s status as ‘undefeated’ has emerged in the form of the Tactilizing One![/blue]

Inside the ropes, Dashford lounges in the corner like a smug hype man, Briggs looms with arms raised and flexed, and Regan paces slowly in a circle like a predator. Preston raises one hand to his temple, smiles like he just closed a billion-dollar deal, and steps to the center as fireworks go off indoors.

After a few more seconds of the crowd booing the fuck out of him, Preston activates his Freebird Rule clause and selects one of his three student-diciples to fight for him… Briggs Wellington !

BAMA: PVE opting to bring out his silent-est soldier. The stoic TANK, Briggs Wellington

Tact bounces from foot-to-foot, warming up as Preston who carefully shimmies down from the apron, flanked by his two disciples not actively competing… Briggs stares menacingly at Tact, expression like a predator salivating over his prey.


The official signals to the timekeeper!

DING DING!




LARRY TACT
- vs -
PRESTON VANDERLAY ESQUIRE

Singles


The bell rings.

Larry Tact takes a long breath, his jaw tightening as he paces into the center of the ring. He raises his hands, inviting the lock-up.

Briggs Wellington smirks faintly, then rolls his shoulders, flexing like a mountain daring climbers to try their luck. He stomps forward…

TODD: Here we go! The powerhouse of Preston Vanderlay’s so-called ‘diversified portfolio’ against the legacy and craft of Larry Tact!

BAMA: And Larry might’ve just made his first mistake invitin’ that lock-up. You don’t step up to a freight train like Briggs unless you wanna get RUN OVAH!

They collide. Tact’s jaw tightens, gritting against Briggs’ power as his arms quake from the strain. Briggs tries to man-handle Tact off his feet, immediately… but Tact angles his feet, digging into the canvas, weathering the storm of Wellington’s power!

Briggs snarls, teeth bared, his eyes going wide as he senses advantage. He shoves hard, Larry staggers back into the corner!

BAMA: Nowhere to run! Nowhere to hide!

Briggs charges toward the cornered Tact! Looking for a Stinger Splash…

…But Tact pivots, side-stepping past Brigg’s, and whirls behind into a waistlock before Wellington can leap!

TODD: What quickness on display by Larry Tact! He sensed Briggs trying to close in on a weakness and sealed the opportunity with HASTE!

Briggs’ eyes shoot wide, confused for a heartbeat, his brow furrowed. He thrashes backward with a…

WILD ELBOW!

…But Larry ducks smoothly, wrenching Briggs down off his feet!

Side-headlock Takedown!

TODD: That’s the veteran savvy of Larry Tact! Redirecting momentum, taking Briggs off his feet!

BAMA: …Hell naw! I think Briggsy slipped on Tact’s old-man sweat! Don’t be givin’ Larry all the credit, Toddy! He ain’ done NOTHIN’ like Mister PVE has!

On the outside, Preston Vanderlay Esquire leans against the apron, smirking smugly. He cups his hands like a megaphone, yelling, “Let the ol’ boy tire himself out, Briggs! Keep it controlled, keep it FISCAL!”

In the ring, Larry manages to revolve around Wellington’s back in a grounded hammerlock, his jaw clenched, eyes narrowed in focus. Every tug of Briggs’ arm is deliberate, controlled, like he’s conducting an orchestra.

Briggs snarls, his teeth grinding, sweat already slicking his temples. His chest heaves as he, through great strength alone, FORCES himself up to his knees. With a roar, he muscles himself back to a vertical base… Larry’s gone from a position of control to clinging to Briggs’ wrist for dear life!

And in one fell swoop, Briggs HURLS Larry through the air onto his back! HIP TOSS!

Larry lands hard, rolling with it… Wellington charges it to secure Tact in his mitts…

But Larry quickly secures a vertical base, re-latching Briggs in another grapple, levelling the playing field!

TODD: Masterful work by Tact, setting the tempo in the early-going, refusing to let the bigger Briggs dictate this match’s pace!

BAMA: Briggs don’t need tempo! He’s the whole dang orchestra in ONE MAN! All he’s gotta do is run Larry flat!

…Preston sniffs impatiently, tapping his watch. Indicating that time is money and he’s growing impatient with his employee playing with his food.

Back inside, Briggs stomps forward, jaw set with irritation, brows knitted in anger… He suddenly shoves Tact back against the ropes and raises his arm for a…

DECAPITATING LARIAT!

…

But Tact ducks low, hooks Briggs’ arm, and sweeps him into a crisp…

ARM DRAG TAKEDOWN!

Briggs swoops through the air, landing on his back!

Briggs pops up, red-faced and growling, his nostrils flaring with frustration to be propelled by a pipsqueak like Tact. Wellington charges again…

Another swing!

Another miss!

Another ARM DRAG!

Briggs, like a mad bull, forces himself off the mat again, REFUSING to back down… but Tact anticipates this and slides behind Briggs as he rises, latching Wellington into an arm wringer!

Wellington tries to shove his way out… But Tact holds tight and charges forward, snapping a short-arm shoulder block across the joint!

TODD: Interesting Tactic! (or… Tact-ic!) Larry’s taking apart the arm! He knows every powerhouse needs two pistons to fire — and he’s cutting one down piece by piece!

BAMA: Puh-leez! Wellington could lift Larry with one arm and toss him into the Hudson if he felt like it!!

Tact reels himself back for another shoulder block to sting Brigg’s arm…

But Briggs powerhouses his way forward, trying to bull-rush Tact into the corner!

…But, Larry braces his feet! At the last second, he pivots, spinning Briggs into the buckles instead! SHOULDER BLOCK!

Briggs’ back collides with the turnbuckle, his face twisting in surprise. Before he can recover, Larry slams his jaw with a…

HIGH KNEE!

On the apron, Preston has gone quiet. The smug smile is gone; his lips press thin, eyes narrowed as he watches every movement with hawk-like intensity.

TODD: I think Preston Vanderlay’s façade might be cracking, Bama! He’s watching his golden goose get outwrestled by a master!

BAMA: Nonsense and flim-flam, Todd! That there’s a billionaire brain trust at work. Preston ain’t worried — he’s calculatin’!

Larry Tact pulls Briggs’ back toward the center of the ring, ready to snap into another hold.

Briggs, seething, thinks he sees an opening! He lunges forward, looking for a…

BEARHUG!

…But Larry ducks low, wraps Briggs’ legs, and takes him down in a double-leg — slamming the powerhouse to the canvas!

Larry clamps on an armbar, twisting Briggs’ joint…

TODD: Larry’s managing to run a clinique on Briggs Wellington!

BAMA: …Dammit! C’mon, Briggsy! You’re a representative of PVE! Act like it!

PVE, at ringside, scowls, his hands gripping the apron. His lips twitch into a grin as he snaps his fingers and shouts, “Ropes, Briggs! Ropes, leverage, dammit!”

Briggs’ eyes dart, internalizing his employer’s advice. He stretches his massive arm out and clamps onto the bottom rope, forcing a break!

BAMA: Now, THAT’S what Mister PVE brings to the table! Genius!

TODD: …Yep. Can’t believe no one’s ever had the idea to reach for the ropes during a submission before.

He shoots a glare toward Preston at ringside, his eyes narrowing.

Preston smirks, smoothing his cufflinks with exaggerated flair.

BAMA: Tact better keep his eyes on his opponent!

TODD: Isn’t PVE his opponent technically, Bama?

BAMA: You know what I mean, Toddrick!

As Larry stares down PVE… Briggs works his way back to his feet, more methodically, rather than charging in a blind rage…

Larry spins around and goes to attack…

…But Preston seizes the moment, reaching up to tug Larry’s ankle from the floor.

Larry stumbles, his eyes widening as his balance falters.

Briggs’ lips split in a grin, sweat flying from his hair as he surges forward. He barrels Larry down with a…

POWER SLAM!

TODD: Oh come on! Preston Vanderlay with the trip, and Briggs capitalizes!

BAMA: That’s called SYNERGY, Todd. Read Warren Buffett! Or better yet, PVE’s latest book on why he’s even better than Warren Buffett!

Larry writhes on the mat, clutching his chest, face twisted in pain. His brows knit as he rolls toward the ropes, fighting for breath.

Briggs looms over him, his teeth bared, eyes blazing with newfound confidence. He raises his boot…

STOMP RIGHT ONTO TACT’S RIBS!

Larry grimaces, his face contorted as his body jerks from the impact.

Preston claps smugly on the outside, his smirk back in full form!

Briggs raises an arm to the arena who rain boos down upon him…

Finally, Briggs reaches down, hauling Larry up off his feet… He hooks Tact’s head, setting for a…

SNAP SUPLEX!

…

But Larry hooks his ankle around Briggs’!

TODD: Larry refusing to give this one up without a fight!

BAMA: The last gasp of a desperate old man!

Briggs drops the front facelock and PUMMELS Tact with a right to the top of the skull!

Larry staggers! He keeps his footing… but he’s looking woozy!

Outside the ring, Preston draws a thumb across his neck, directing Briggs to finish it!

BAMA: Here it comes! Tact’s about to get LIQUIDATED!

Briggs scoops Tact’s skull, twisting him into position for a Liquidation Event! (Cross-Rhodes)

”SELL!” barks Briggs, as he delivers th-

…Wait! Tact twists his feet behind Briggs!

And scoops the giant up off his feet!

BACK SUPLEX!

TODD: Tact twists out! What a counter!

The ring QUAKES from Wellington’s massive frame getting DUMPED onto the mat!

Briggs writhes on the canvas, his face twisted in agony, slamming a fist into the mat!

Larry lies on the mat for a second, sweat pouring, chest heaving, his expression raw determination.

Preston’s grin is gone. His jaw slackens, eyes wide as he clutches at his own tie, muttering under his breath.

The crowd is on their feet, roaring.

TODD: Both men down! Larry Tact’s counter may have just swung this match back to even! Who will take the win from here?!?

Larry Tact rises to his feet, slowly but surely, while Briggs stays down on the mat. Tact approaches the big man slowly and cautiously as the crowd chants his name at a fever pitch.

Larry leans down towards Briggs-

Just as Preston slides into the ring, under the bottom rope!

TODD: Wait, what is Preston doing?!

BAMA: What do you mean, Todd?! It’s his match- and it looks like he’s about to wrestle!

Just as Larry starts getting Briggs into position for another big move-

P.V.E. HIMSELF GRABS THE TACTILIZER, before swiftly locking him into position for The Liquidation Event! Preston hits the modified Cross-Rhodes with tremendous FLAIR, screaming out “SELL!” in mid-rotation! 


Larry Tact land crashes into the mat, headfirst!


He’s out cold!


But Preston doesn’t go for the pin-


Instead, P.V.E. just walks over toward Briggs, and begins BERATING the big man until Briggs finally manages to crawl atop Larry Tact for the pin!

The ref drops down to make the count!


1!




2!!




3!!!



WINNER: Preston Vanderlay Esquire



Preston celebrates in the ring as the crowd hurls a tremendous amount of hatred his way. As Larry Tact grabs his head and rolls out of the ring, Briggs finally manages to rise back up to his feet. Instead of being treated to a victor’s welcome, Briggs is instead immediately chided by P.V.E.! As the pair make their way out of the ring and back up the ramp, P.V.E. continues berating Briggs: despite their winning performance!

BAMA: This is what makes Preston such a good businessman! He knows exactly when to hop in himself to get the hard work done, and he always demands accountability from his lessers!

TODD: You have to be joking! Larry Tact had that match in the bag, until Preston finally decided that he wanted to wrestle! Larry was practically fighting a handicap match out there!

BAMA: It’s not Preston’s fault that Larry Tact is mentally ‘handicapped’, Todd!

TODD: Oh my God, Bama, you know that’s not what I meant!

BAMA: But either way, we have to keep this show rolling! We have some more action-packed matches coming your way, so stay tuned!

[Image: wireline.png]

Atara Raven is backstage watching the monitor and mentally preparing for her match later. Then in walks Solomon Kline.

Solomon Kline: Hey, Atty. I know I'm not even scheduled to compete tonight. I'm still reeling a bit from that match with Sarah Wolf on Warfare. But I couldn't miss an opportunity to be on the go-home show to Relentless. Point is, I'm here for a reason. I saw what happened at the end of Warfare.


SK: Chances are, the Corporation is not going to be happy that you were out there with Dolly and the Revolution. I know you can handle yourself, but with 'Oswald' having Thias Watts at ringside, I just want to ensure that things are even. I know you could have any member of the Revolution at ringside tonight, but as far as I can tell...they're not here. So, here's what I'm proposing. For your match tonight, I'll be in your corner to make sure there's no funny business with the Corporate Titans. What do you think?


Mrs. James Raven thinks about it for a moment and then answers.


Atara Raven: Listen kid, there's some bridges you don't burn. Some favors you don't turn a nose to. Dolly is one of those. Don't think too much about it, Dove.


AR: You're right though. That little excursion into Warfare is gonna merit some backlash and I'm just one woman.


AR: If the Tribe has my back, then I've got the Tribe's and you don't worry about those Sarah Wolf type things either.


AR: Now ela...I've got a match to win.


[Image: wireline.png]


TODD: Bama this next match is going to be very competitive!

BAMA: Yes, Toddrick. We are about to see one of the newest members of the Corporation in action in Mr. Oz!

TODD: Don’t let him hear you call him that. I’ve heard he’s going by the more distinguished Oswald these days and he’s not coming alone!

BAMA: Right you, are Toddy boy! At his side will be the massive Thias Watts, the other half of the Anarchy tag team number one contenders, The Corporate Titans!

TODD: He was supposed to be the only competitor with back up tonight, but this is the XWF, where the action never slows down. In fact, it’s Relentless! Here comes his opponent now!





The honeyed rasp of Atara's voice blares over the facility's PA in unison with those words appearing on the multitude of screens and displays littering the arena.


HELLO DOVES


The crowd pops and gets to their feet shouting in near total unison a single word.


OPA!


Arena lights start to pulse in time with the music and multiple vertical streams of pyro erupt across the front of stage. Strutting with purpose, Atara emerges from the back taking spot centerstage atop the ramp. Posing for the camera, a wink and kiss is given to the viewers at home. But she’s not alone! Behind her emerges a tall figure in the lights.

BAMA: My God! Is that who I think it is?

TODD: Of course it is, Bama! It’s the one and only Solomon Kline! Looks like he’s here to even the odds!



Grunge walking to the ringsteps, she climbs and stops at the top to posture again for her adoring public as Solomon follows closely behind. Hand on her hip, the Grecian moves to the middle of the apron to blow a final kiss to the camera and enters the ring through the middle rope.





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. Looming over him from the shadows is the giant Thias Watts. Oswald walks towards the lead guitarist, clapping her 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 leaps 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-cloaks 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. Outside, the giant stands guard.

DING DING! The bell rings to officially start the match.

ATARA RAVEN (with Solomon Kline at ringside)
- vs -
MR. OZ (with Thias Watts at ringside)

Singles w/Valet


The moment the bell rings, the two charge out of their corners!

Atara and Oz lock up in the center of the ring. Oz gets the advantage early, overpowering Atty in the test of strength. He brings her shoulders down to the mat and immediately goes for the pin.

1…


No! Kickout!

TODD: I don’t know why he thought he could win so easily there.

BAMA: Atty is back up already!

Atara kicks him in the back of the left leg. He stumbles. She runs the ropes, bounces off and Oz with the clothesline! But Atty ducks under it and goes behind, hitting a sling blade!

The fans shout OPA! She waits for him to get back up and no! Thias grabs her hair from the outside. The referee tells him to let go and…

BAMA: OH MY! Solomon takes down the big man with a thunderous spear on the outside!

TODD: That has got to hurt! But I doubt he’ll stay down for long.

Back in the ring, Atty checks her hair and eats a big boot from Oz! She goes over the top rope, but lands on her feet on the apron. Oz charges at her, but she moves at the last second, sending Oz through the ropes and to the outside, where he collides with Thias, who is just making it to his feet. Thias stumbles, but doesn’t fall. Oz crumples onto the floor outside the ring. Atty gestures to the crowd and hits a middle rope moonsault to the outside, colliding with both Solomon and Thias, who were just about to continue fighting. All four are on the floor now.

odd: OPA!

Bama: This is chaos in the best way, Toddrick!

Todd: You love to see it.


The referee begins to count.

1…

2…

3…

4…

Atty and Oz slowly make their way to their feet.


5…

Solomon and Thias also begin to stir.

6…

Atty is in!

7…and so is Oz!

Oz whips Raven into the ropes and when she comes back, he hits a huge spinebuster. He goes for the pin.


1…

2…kickout!

BAMA: He almost had her there!

TODD: It’s going to take more than that to take down the veteran Greek Goddess.

Oz is back on the attack, clubbing down blows on his opponent, still on the ground. He picks her up and german suplex! And another! Again! A fourth! A fifth and sextuple german suplex! Oswald sits, taking a breather.

BAMA: He folded her like a damn gyro!

TODD: He needs to capitalize on this moment.

Outside the ring, Thias Watts hits a huge overhand chop to the chest of Solomon Kline. Kline hits him with a chop back. Inside the ring, Oz looks to put her away. He reaches a hand toward the mouth of Raven on the mat. I…Failed…You! He shoves his fingers into her mouth, but no! She bites down. He pulls his hand away quickly as she hops to her feet. Atty kicks his leg again and again. She follows it up with a left, then a right and an uppercut to the jaw. Oz staggers toward the ropes. Outside, Solomon shouts at Oz. Oz turns to face him. Thias hits Solomon with a forearm to the face. Oz laughs at him. He turns back around, right into The Judgement of Paris!

BAMA: That’s all she wrote!

TODD: You may be right.

Atty goes for the pin, but Thias grabs the referee by the leg and pulls him out of the ring! The crowd starts to count in his stead. 1…2…3…4…Atty gets up, frustrated. Solomon gets in Thias’ face. Thias shoves Solomon. Solomon pushes back, but Thias won’t budge. Thias laughs in his face and grabs Solomon by the neck. He pushes him toward the announce table and lifts him. Thias hits a massive chokeslam to Solomon right through the announce table! He flexes and roars and turns back toward the ring when…The Judgement of Paris off the top turnbuckle to Thias on the outside. The big man staggers and teeters. Atty runs up to him and hits the Priapus Punch, right to the family jewels! She runs back into the ring where Oz is getting up. The referee comes to and slowly returns to the ring.

TODD: It’s been an absolute slobberknocker up to this point!

BAMA: And it’s still anybody’s game, Toddy baby!

Atty slides back into the ring, but Oz catches her in his arms and delivers a huge belly-to-back suplex. Oz grasps Atty by her hair, yanking her up to her feet with his great might. He reels back his arm, going for another I Failed You! But his arm sails by as Atty sidesteps, latching her arms around his and delivering an axe kick upwards to his jaw!

Oz staggers back into the ropes and Atty backs up for distance. As Ozzy stumbles forward, Atty leaps with all she’s got for another Judgment of Paris! Ozzy drops to the mat! Atty hooks the leg!

ONE!

Outside the ring, Kline and Thias are both slowly rising… Thias goes to reach under the bottom rope to stop the official’s count…

TWO!

But Kline dives through the air! Ashes to Ashes! Thias drops!

THREE!

WINNER: ATARA RAVEN!


TODD: What an absolute war between these competitors! Credit to Solomon Kline for backing up Atty through the Corporation’s many attempts to obstruct and interfere! And hats off to Atara Raven for an impressive victory!

[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: Folks, this next match… the spectrum of possibility is off-the-charts… Literally, almost anything could happen!

BAMA: Fo’ REAL, Toddrick! In one corner, we have an undefeated demoness! An otherworldly spirit of unspeakable terror, as apparently unbeatable as her thirst for violence is unquenchable!

TODD: But in the other corner, we have the man that seems to snatch victory from the clutches of undefeatable opponents!



The smoke fills up with gray on the stage, as the arena lights flickers. Then once we see "The Rebellious One" on the X-Tron, then we hear the boom bap of 1999 on the the X-Tron itself. Then we see Reggie coming onto the stage with his hoodie on, and he shadow boxes infront of the camera and talkin’ smack as he walked down, then he gives the fans on the ramp some dap as he went to the ring.

TODD: There he is! Reggie Estrada! The ultimate upset artist!

BAMA: No doubt, Toddy! Reggie has made a career out of pulling off unbelievable comebacks! He pinned Robert “The Omega” Main in 2020! He beat both members of American Storm single-handedly!

TODD: And just last Anarchy, he pulled off a shocking upset, beating the previously undefeated on Anarchy, JC Keeton!

BAMA: When Reggie’s in the ring, and the crowd’s screaming for him, miracles happen, Toddy!

TODD: And they don’t just yell his name, Bama! They also yell what he makes opponents do!

CHOKE! CHOKE! CHOKE! CHOKE! CHOKE!

Reggie reaches the bottom of the ramp with a  simply sildes into it! He steps to the center of the ring… and starts twisting his wrists, raising his arms…

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

And Reggie wraps his hands around his throat! The Reggie choke! And the crowd loves it!

Reggie raises his fist up to the crowd, showing the people some love as his theme fades out.

…



“Dreams of a Lullaby” plays, and as her music swells, Celestine stumbles onto the stage, dragging a massive canvas behind her. Her body jerks unnaturally as though seized by a spirit, shades of a possession. She begins speed-painting in a frenzy, daubing wild strokes with brushes, bare hands, and even blown snot from her nose.

TODD: …Celestine Gale! The Artist of Atrocity! The Maestra of the Macabre!

BAMA: Speakin’ of impressive streaks, Miss Gale is undefeated herself! She thrashed the thoroughly monstrous Inquisition! And no one has seen that clown, Pennyfarthing, since Gale painted the canvas red with his blood!

TODD: It’s hard to imagine *any* competitor on Anarchy that wouldn’t become Gale’s newest masterpiece of murder… But, if anyone can pull off an upset? It’s Reggie Estrada!

She growls, chants, sometimes laughing, sometimes weeping. By the time she reaches the ring, the canvas is revealed: a horrific foretelling of her opponent mangled, ruined, disfigured. She lays the painting gently against the ring like a tombstone.

…Estrada scoffs, like whatever… as Gale eerily creeps up the steeps and into the ring…

The official signals to the timekeeper!

DING DING!

CELESTINE GALE
- vs -
REGGIE ESTRADA
Singles Match


Reggie Estrada bounces on the balls of his feet! He raises his arms, beckoning Cekestine to come right at him!

Celestine Gale’s lips curl into a nefarious smirk, like she’s thinking of bringing her art to life in the most agonizing way. Her head tilts just a fraction too far, her gaze never blinking as she takes one slow, gliding step forward.

…Despite beckoning her, Reggie creeps backward, not eager to meet her in a grapple!

TODD: Celestine, possibly taking an early psychological advantage here… Without landing a blow, Gale may already be in Reggie’s head!

BAMA: She IS in his head psychologically… And knowing Miss Gale, she plans to stick her hand in his eye socket to occupy it physically too!

Gale lurches forward unsettlingly… almost like a marionette, bending and twisting as she closes the distance, between herself and Estrada…

Until! With a sudden shout, he lunges forward, his face twisted in defiance, as he launches a…

DISCUS LARIAT!

…Side-stepped.
Celestine’s expression doesn’t change—her features remain eerily calm as she sways aside, letting his fists cut through empty air. Her stillness makes the crowd gasp.

TODD: Total control on display by Celestine Gale!

Then, as Reggie’s flailing attack sails wide to her side,, Gale drives her knee sharply into his ribs!

KNEE LIFT!

Reggie’s eyes widen, his mouth opening with a grunt of pain. He staggers backward toward the ropes… but he shoves off of them!

BAMA: I’ll give this to ol’ Reg, he got more fight in him than a sack full a’ alley cats!
Reggie’s arm swipe forward, looking for an…

ARM DRAG!

…but Celestine CATCHES Reggie’s wrist instead, as her lips part in a cold grin. Her shoulders roll back with unnatural fluidity, and she sweeps his legs, yanking him down in one motion!

DOUBLE LEG TAKEDOWN!

TODD: Like a brushstroke across the canvas—smooth and sharp!

BAMA: it’s effective to be sure… but it gives me them heebie-jeebies…

Reggie’s back hits the mat… But Gale’s attack isn’t over! She suddenly surges forward… AND STOMPS ON ESTRADA’s THR-

…Dodge! Reggie somersaults backward to his feet! Gale’s stomp only hits mat!

TODD: Wow! A vicious throat-sealing stomp sought after by Celestine Gale! That move could’ve ended the match in an instant!

BAMA: As could have any chance of Reggie’s ability to speak!

Reggie bounces off the ropes, going with the flow of his backwards somersault, before he charges again!

Celestine’s eyes widen just slightly, amused at his persistence. She tilts her head back and freezes in place, statuesque…

TODD: Gale allowing Reggie’s advance, daring him to try another attack!

BAMA: …I’ve seen people play chicken in the ring before. This looks more like whoever… or whatever… is piloting Miss Gale… just dropped their controller!

Reggie goes for it! He barrels forward…

And slides low, looking for a…

BASEMENT DROPKICK!

…At the last possible moment, Gale swings her ankle straight backward, like a ballerina, pirouetting her leg into the air!

…Before swinging it straight down! AXE KICK DOWN TO THE MAT!

…Reggie side-rolls, slipping out of harm’s way, but only narrowly!

TODD: The ‘Choke’ chants have gone silent now… Reggie is surviving, but still hasn’t found a way to penetrate Gale’s defenses!

BAMA: Only thing I hear is our hispanic fans quietly praying for Reggie!

TODD: …Do you know spanish, Bama?

BAMA: Un pocito. Suficiente para encontrar un baño.

TODD: …What?

BAMA: I just told you I majored in spanish in college.

TODD: …Oh. Neat!

Gale refuses to allow Reggie to escape a sequence unscathed, stomping the mat wildly like one may squash a beetle beneath their feet…

Reggie desperately scoots, back against the mat, rolling to avoid Gale’s rapid-fire stomps…

Gale leaps, raising both boots to crash against Reggie’s chest…

…But Reggie raises a boot toward the rafters!

And catches Gale on the chin!

The crowd gasps… before turning to cheers!

TODD: Reggie did it! Reggie drew Gale in and made contact!

BAMA: Great. Now, do it again and again until she goes down for a three! One kick ain’t winnin’ a war, Toddrick!

…Gale’s head tilts backward from the kick. Her eerie smile disappears for just a moment, as Reggie kips-up to his feet!

…Straight into a Gale KNEE LIFT!

The air is sucked from the crowd, just like it is Reggie’s lungs, as Estrada drops to one knee.
TODD: …Uh-oh. That comeback didn’t last…
Celestine watches Reggie’s struggle to breathe with bemused detachment, her lips tightening as if sighing at an unruly child. She latches onto the back of his head and snaps…

ANOTHER KNEE LIFT!

A SECOND!

A THIRD!
Reggie’s face twists with every strike, his cheeks puffing, eyes squinting shut with each blow.

The crowd starts a chant to try to will him back into this…

REG-GIE!

REG-GIE!

REG-GIE!

TODD: Gale might be setting up for a finishing strike… Reggie’s gotta do something or its curtains for him!

BAMA: Curtains? More like…

…

BAMA: Dammit. What’s the word for the sheet that coroners drape over a dead guy?[/blue]

Gale latches onto Reggie’s arm… and hurls him toward the ropes!

Reggie bounces off… Gale aims, with laser precision a…

GLIDING ROUNDHOUSE (with toe-pointed artistry)

…

But Reggie slips under!

TODD: Oho! There’s life in Estrada yet!

Gale’s ballet-like flourish leaves her slow to re-find her footing, giving Reggie a window to bounce off the ropes! He hits them with all he’s got, sprinting as Gale recovers her footing…

SHOTGUN DROPKICK!

Gale…

Gets…

BLASTED! Getting launched into a rolling heap before landing flat on her back!

TODD: AHHHHHHHH! WOW! What a strike by Reggie!

BAMA: That’s the kid I was talking about! The King of the Upset! Brash, reckless, and just crazy enough to hit the bullseye!

Reggie’s face lights with pride, his chest heaving as he shoots up to his knees, pointing to the crowd.

CHOKE! CHOKE! CHOKE!

TODD: Reggie spending perhaps too much time basking in the crowd’s energy… He hit a big move on Gale, possibly the first time she’s looked vulnerable in her XWF tenure! Follow it up!

BAMA: It’s a psychological game in the ring, Toddrick! Gale dug herself into Reggie’s brain, now he’s gotta excise her! And what better way than the ollllllll’ TAUNT!

Reggie’s grin spreads wide—cocky now, feeding on the crowd’s roar. He raises his hand toward his throat, ready to draw it across in his infamous choke gesture—

CHOKE! CHOKE! CHO-

IN A FLASH, Celestine Gale’s body JERKS unnaturally upright!

Gale sits up with her head snapping to face Reggie, eyes glassy and unblinking.

…The crowd is silenced.

Reggie’s face drops instantly, his grin fading into wide-eyed disbelief.

TODD: …That celebration might’ve come too soon!

BAMA: …Like I told you, Todd—you poke the ghost, the ghost pokes back!

TODD: You said NOTHING of the sort, Bama!

…Reggie dismisses his shock, running toward the ropes…

TODD: Reggie’s thinking Gale’s still grounded, off her feet! There’s still a window to attack!

Reggie slides on his stomach with a…

BASEBALL SLIDE!

…With eerie grace, Gale shifts her body a fraction to the side, letting his boots pass harmlessly.

TODD: She moved before he even made contact! It’s like she saw the play a step ahead!

Bama: …Like she’s watching from a perspective beyond the ring. As though she’d known the strike was coming long before he committed to it…

…Gale SNAPS to her feet unnaturally, straight off her back, as if tugged upwards by puppet-strings…
Reggie starfish kip-ups back to his feet and throws a desperation flurry!

Wild punches!

Spinning backfists!

…Celestine’s expression doesn’t change. She slips through each blow, movements are sharp but detached…

TODD: What a sequence! It’s like Estrada mailed all his moves to Celestine a week in advance so she could plan the most elegant way to avoid them!

Then, suddenly, her palm snaps forward—a sharp chopping strike to the side of Reggie’s neck!

His eyes squeeze shut, his face contorting with pain.

She follows with…

A second throat thrust!

A third!

TODD: She’s chipping away at him—every strike precise, deliberate!

Bama: Drainin’ Reg like an old paint rag!

Reggie staggers, clutching his chest, desperation written across his sweat-soaked face…

Gale’s hands surge forward, as she snaps behind Estrada, seeking a…

Straight-Jacket German Sup-...

…But Reggie suddenly slips behind Gale! Standing Switch! His arms remain latched onto Gale’s wrists!

TODD: Reggie finds life! Can he pull off another miraculous comeback!

He shakes his head wildly, his eyes blazing with stubborn fire. The crowd erupts with anticipation!

With a roar, he tries to muscle Gale, twisting her toward facing the mat as he sets her up for…

THE AZTEC SUNRISE! (Killswitch!)

…

NO!

With inhuman fluidity, Gale slips free of his grip mid-motion, her body flowing like wet paint!

TODD: Gale slips out!

Reggie’s eyes flash with shock as she twists behind him.

Her arms snake around his throat…

NOWHERE OVER THE RAINBOW!

BAMA: And things go from bad to worse for Estrada!

Celestine’s face remains expressionless as she sways, side to side, almost rocking him like a child. But her lips part, whispering a low, chilling lullaby. Reggie’s eyes bulge, his mouth opens in panic, his hands claw at her arm—his expression shifting from fury to desperation to foggy confusion.

TODD: Gale’s got it cinched in! The sleeper’s locked tight—Reggie’s fading fast!

BAMA: Sing him a lullaby, Toddy baby! Reggie’s headed to dreamland!

Reggie kicks, his face contorted, his jaw clenched as he tries one last surge of defiance… Thrashing to escape!

But his eyelids droop…

His body slackens.

…

….

And finally his arms fall limp.

The official calls for the bell!

WINNER: Celestine Gale!


Celestine releases him gently, letting his body crumple to the mat like discarded parchment. Her eyes scan the crowd, her lips pulling into a faint, unsettling smile as if she’d just signed her signature across a fresh canvas.

TODD: And that’s it! Celestine Gale with ‘Nowhere Over the Rainbow’—Reggie Estrada’s fire is extinguished tonight! Celestine Gale remains undefeated… and terrifying!

BAMA: Somebody get the sage and holy water! That woman ain’t right!

[Image: wireline.png]




Da Bing Bong Twinzz bust out that back stage bitch like WTF and perp slash pimp walk to the RANG. You feel me?

TODD: I don’t even know what these fools are doing back in the XWF. I thought we released them ages ago!

BAMA: Put some respeck’ on the BING BONG family name, Todd! Da Twinzz are an XWF staple, and they have a cult following that keeps them in the mix!

TODD: In the mix for what? Prison?

BAMA: In the mix for tag-team gold, Todd! If Da Bing Bong Twinzz win this match, they’ll earn themselves a future shot at the Anarchy Tag Championships!

TODD: And if they pin Darren Dangerous, one of them will become the X-treme Champion! But these are big ‘ifs’, Bama!

BAMA: Da Twinzz like big ‘ifs’, Todd- and they can not lie!





As the music hits, a burst of pyro explodes on the stage! Then, we see XWF legend CENTURION appear on the stage! He looks mildly annoyed at his booking, but the crowd’s chant of “CENT! CENT! CENT!” seem to cheer him up! Centurion gives the front-row fans a few high fives as he makes his way into the ring, ascending the steps and then slipping through the ropes as he awaits his tag-team partner and dyadic opposite.

TODD: And Centurion makes his way to the ring! A certified XWF legend and former Anarchy stalwart, these fans are over the moon to see Centurion back in action tonight!

BAMA: Those idiot fans might be over the moon, but Centurion is over the hill! He’s made a grave mistake coming back to the XWF, and Da Bing Bong Twinzz are going to prove it!

TODD: As if, Bama! Centurion is at his best on Thursday nights: we’ve seen this time and again throughout his career. If I was betting man, I’d bet that Centurion could beat those two bozos while blindfolded and handcuffed!





Darren Dangerous enters the stage with an arm raised then lowers it as he walks to the ring. When he enters the ring he steps up onto the middle turnbuckle and crosses arms above his head and flashes the devil horns. The X-treme championship rests firmly upon his waist as the crowd showers him in boos.

Centurion just shakes his head with disappointment as Darren climbs off the ropes and gives his belt over to the referee for safekeeping.

BAMA: DARREN F’N DANGEROUS! Our X-treme Champion is blessing Anarchy by having his first defense here, in front of these Knucklehead Centurion fans!

TODD: And listening to this crowd…it sounds like a lot of them wanted him to stay home! He has go-home heat with them!

BAMA: Oh, that just means this is the GO-HOME show before Relentless, Todd! That’s all!



Tag-Team X-treme Rules Match

DARREN DANGEROUS © & CENTURION
- vs -
DA BING BONG TWINZZZ



DING! DING! DING!

TODD: This is an X-treme rules tag-team match: which means there are no tags, no count-outs, and absolutely no limits!

BAMA: That’s right, Todd! This match is going to be a BLOODBATH- but what else would you expect from Darren’s first official title defense?!

Centurion and Darren Dangerous immediately get into a heated argument as soon as the bell rings. Centurion tells DD to stay out of his way for this match, but DD just calls him a slur in return! Centurion and DD wind up face-to-face, arguing over ethical communication strategies.

The referee tries to get in between Cent and DD, reminding them that they’re supposed to work together tonight: but neither of them are having it! Darren Dangerous lifts an accusator finger and points it right in Centurion’s face- but Centurion quickly slaps it away!

TODD: Oh boy, I had a feeling this could happen…it looks like Darren Dangerous and Centurion would rather fight each other than their competition!

BAMA: Well can ya blame em’, Todd?! Centurion is a WOKE-liberal-SJW, and Darren Dangerous is the hardcore icon of a forgotten past! These two were NEVER going to get along!

TODD: And to make matters worse: I heard that Centurion is angling for a shot at Darren’s championship belt come Relentless!

BAMA: That Centurion is a damn Benedict Arnold, Todd! I tell ya what!

Da Bing Bong Twinzz talk amongst themselves for a few seconds while the other team continues arguing. Then, MC C-Munqqquee BathZaltzz and Lil' Ca$h-App Dolla Billyunnai$$e strike as soon as the chance arises! The two Twinzz charge ahead, with Ca$h-App targeting Centurion while MC C-Mun goes right for Darren Dangerous! The pair of arguing teammates never saw it coming!

Ca$h-App spears Centurion right into the corner!

MC C-Mun delivers a huge lariat that sends both him and DD flying over the top-rope!

TODD: And Da Bing Bong Twinzz strike!

BAMA: Oh man! Darren Dangerous needs to get it together, because those Twinzz have so much riding on this one! If they can come away with the upset victory, not only will they be walking out of here with a guaranteed tag-team title shot: they might even be walking away with Darren’s X-treme championship!

Ca$h-App starts delivering shoulders to Centurion’s midsection in the corner!....but it doesn’t look like they’re doing very much damage. Centurion just kind of ignores the mild pushing on his abdomen as he looks at the crowd with a disgusted expression.

Outside the ring, both Darren and MC C-Mun have risen to their feet! C-Mun tries to hit Darren with a crazy spinning roundhouse kick: but he trips and misses! Darren laughs mockingly before he delivers a brutal elbow drop right between C-Mun’s shoulder blades!

Inside the ring, Centurion has finally grown tired of Ca$h-App’s mild attacks. Centurion lifts up a knee, and Ca$h-App runs his shoulder right into it! Ca$h-App hollers in pain as he backs away from the corner. By the time Ca$h-App finally recovers from the knee, Centurion is already charging at him with a BLOODY SYMPHONY (Busaiku Flying Knee)!

TODD: It looks like the momentum might be shifting, Bama! Da Bing Bong Twinzz caught the opposition offguard, but now, Centurion and Darren Dangerous are flipping the script!

BAMA: Darren Dangerous could take both of these bums by himself! He doesn’t even need Centurion to win this match!

TODD: Sure, Bama. Sure.

Outside the ring, Darren walks towards the ring and reaches down beneath it. After a few seconds of sifting through weapons, Darren eventually pulls out the lid of a trash can! DD pops a big grin as he walks over to MC with the steel lid. Darren waits until MC starts pulling himself up with the help of the staircase: and then, Darren goes to bloody work!

And I mean BLOODY!

Darren Dangerous bashes MC’s head seven ways to Sunday, lacerating the flesh on his face time and time again as he batters him with the trash can lid! Fans in the front row get covered in specks of blood, flesh, and bone as MC screams out in agony from the brutal assault.

But back inside the ring, Da Bing Bong Twinzz are faring slightly better!

But only slightly.

As Centurion approaches his downed opponent, Ca$h-App springs back to life with an attempted low-blow!

But Centurion sees it coming and moves just out of the way….while delivering another vicious knee right to Ca$h-App’s skull instead!

Ca$h-App’s face is busted open the old-fashioned way!

A stream of blood runs down Ca$h-App’s forehead as the life begins fading from his face!

TODD: Oh my God, Bama! This is turning into a slaughter out there!

BAMA: That’s what happens when you book an X-treme Rulez match on Anarchy, Todd! THE BLOOD WILL SPILL!

Back outside the ring, Darren Dangerous throws his trash can lid into the crowd after completely demolishing it from continued use. Then, he grabs his bloodied opponent by the hair before slamming their face right into the steel steps!

NOT ONCE!


NOT TWICE!


BUT THRICE!


MC C-Mun looks to be damn near unconscious by the time Darren Dangerous slides them back inside the ring!


TODD: That Bing Bong Twin just found out why you don’t take Darren Dangerous to the outside! That’s where he’s most Dangerous!

BAMA: He’s Dangerous everywhere, Todd! It’s his middle name!

TODD: Well, no…but- whatever!

Inside the ring, Centurion has been delivering big boots to Ca$h-App’s lower back while the twin writhes around the canvas in pain. The crowd chants “CENT! CENT! CENT!” as the XWF legend plays up to their applause.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the ring: Darren Dangerous grabs MC C-Mun and places him between his legs. Then, Darren lifts the Twin up into a powerbomb position!

And back on the other side of the ring, Centurion is setting Ca$h-App up for the “Fall of Rome” (Walls of Jericho)!

TODD: This could be it right here, Bama! Those Twinzz are in a terrible predicament!

BAMA: You’re damn right, Todd! The only question is: which Twin is going to get beat first?!

Just when Centurion places Ca$h-App into the Fall of Rome, Darren drops MC C-Mun back to the mat with a devastating Amber Alert (Bautista Bomb)!


Darren goes for the cover on MC C-Mun, just when Ca$h-App looks poised to tap out!


The referee counts the pin with one eye while keeping his other eye on the submission hold!



1!




CA$H-APP’S HAND FALLS TOWARDS THE MAT!






2!!





CA$H-APP’S HAND REACHES THE MAT!





3!!!




CA$H-APP IS TAPPING OUT!


WINNERS: DARREN DANGEROUS © & CENTURION


Darren Dangerous and Centurion stand in the center of the ring, the referee raising both of their arms. Darren turns towards Centurion and starts unleashing a flurry of slurs his way. Centurion just bites his tongue while he stares daggers into Darren Dangerous.

TODD: What a dominant showing from Centurion and Darren Dangerous! It makes you wonder…what could these two accomplish if they’d put their differences aside more often?!

BAMA: Frankly, Todd- they could be one of the hottest tag-teams in all of wrestling!

TODD: I was just thinking the same thi-oh, wait….they’re fighting again.

Darren Dangerous takes a powerful step towards Centurion, and then, Darren spits a big fat loogie in Centurion’s direction.

Centurion looks down at the loogie on his chest, then back up to Darren Dangerous with a look of rage.

Darren Dangerous takes another step forward, laughing in Centurin’s face….

UNTIL CENTURION ROLLS UP THE X-TREME CHAMPION IN A CRADLE!

THE REFEREE DROPS DOWN TO COUNT THE SUDDEN X-PIN!



1!
























2!!






















3-



NO!

Darren gets his shoulder up just in time!

BAMA: That damned Benedict Centurion just turned on his tag-team partner! He just tried to steal the X-treme Championship!

TODD: Oh c’mon Bama, Darren was asking for it! He spit on Centurion! And did you hear what he said to Cent after the match?!

Darren doesn’t take too lightly to the pinfall attempt: and Centurion doesn’t seem to give a damn! As soon as DD kicks out of the pin, he scrambles to his feet and gets into a proper brawl with the XWF Legend! The two trade heavy haymakers in the center of the ring, until eventually, they both get tangled up and go flying over the ropes!

They both land on their feet outside the ring-

AND CONTINUE TRADING BLOWS!

The crowd goes wild with chants of “CENT! CENT! CENT!” as the two men battle their way up the ramp, and back through the curtain in a flurry of fists!

TODD: This match might be over, but I think Darren and Centurion still have plenty of fight left in them!

BAMA: You’re right about that, Todd! Those men hate each other so much, I won’t be surprised if they continue fighting all the way until Relentless!

TODD: But at Relentless, everything between these two will finally be settled! Because Centurion will be taking on Darren Dangerous, and the winner will walk away with more than just bragging rights….they’ll walk away with the X-treme Championship belt!

BAMA: You won’t want to miss it! But first: we still have tonight’s main event!

[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: Folks, our main event is… uh… well, there’s a hell of a lot of history to it, I can tell you that much!

BAMA: And we’re gonna do our best to unpack it for you, ladies and germs!



The arena is pitch black and the melancholy opening tunes to “Identity” begin. But as the song starts to pick up in intensity, down in the entry way, you see a Jericho-esque light up jacket glow brilliantly. Then, twin explosions emit from either side of the ramp and the lights turn on in a swirling red and blue pattern that throb in sync with the beats of the song. Corey comes down the ramp, the jacket now flashing intermittent heart and lightning bolt patterns. On the 'Tron you see images of Corey/Lux pulling off fantastic moves, intercut with blur effects on Corey's face that obscure his features in an eerie way.

[blue]TODD: Corey Smith! …Phew, okay! You could fill several academic-sized volumes with Corey’s extensive XWF history!

BAMA: Or a couple really niche tumblrs!

TODD: His body has held the Universal title multiple times… And two years ago, so did he while controlling himself! And for two years, we weren’t sure if we’d see Corey Smith again!

BAMA: But his returned at May Day, earlier this year, looking like he hasn’t lost one step! He dropped an impressive win on the Corporate Revolutionary, Matthias Syn! And he and Dolly looked like absolute dynamite, a perfect unit! Dissecting two of PWV’s finest in JC Keeton and Matt Knox!

TODD: In the war between Revolution *and* Corporation, the sudden return of Corey Smith feels like it may be a great equalizer on the battlefield…

BAMA: But one OG revolutionary isn’t quite as welcoming to the XWF’s original communist(?) dreamer! He doesn’t see Corey as an ally, but a Judas!

Corey gets on the ring apron, throwing his arms over the top rope as the jacket keeps flashing. He looks pumped as hell, and starts pointing out at the fans before rushing to the top rope, surveying the crowd from on high, before dropping down to the canvas and handing off his jacket. He paces the ring now, waiting for the match to begin as the music and lighting effects wind down.

…

Suddenly, there’s the strum of a banjo heard from off-stage…



Through the apron, bursts “Micheal Graves” (conceivably), Anarchy champion, sporting the “Dark Warrior” mask, and the belt on his shoulder.

TODD: And here we have the longest-reigning Anarchy champion of all-time, Micheal Graves!

BAMA: Allegedly! Apparently, he’s been Corey Smith this whole time, according to Corey!

TODD: …Wait, but Corey’s in the ring! Is he in two places at once?

BAMA: He covered this already! That’s Mark Flynn!

TODD: Micheal Graves has been Mark Flynn this whole time!?!

…

TODD: Wait, no, I knew that!

BAMA: You know NOTHING, Toddrick! That’s currently Mark Flynn!

TODD: Allegedly!

BAMA: But, all previous weeks it’s been Corey Smith!

TODD: …Wait, but didn’t ‘Graves’ get unmasked last Relentless and it was Mark Flynn under the mask!

BAMA: BUT, Flynn wrestled ‘Graves’ at WarGames! If Corey can’t be in two places at once, how can ‘Graves’?!?

TODD: …My head is starting to hurt…

As the banjo strings are plucked, ‘Graves’ strolls down the ramp… As an entourage follows him!

Irwin, Mark Flynn’s #1 fan is plucking the banjo, playing the folk song…

Behind *him* are the Students of Gravy.

Miss Furry paws at a triangle, which isn’t plugged into anything…

While Peter Parkor brings up the rear, holding a microphone…

Peter raises the mask over his lips and lifts the mic.

♫ You may think that you’re neutral ♫
♫  There are no neutrals though ♫
♫ You’re either with the wrestlers ♫
♫ Or a pawn of the CEOs ♫

The fans join in, knowing the chorus by heart…

WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON? WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON?

‘Graves’ continues to walk down the ramp to the beat, staring at the challenger in the ring… as the entourage behind him plays…

♫ The Boss wants us divided ♫
♫  He don’t want this song sung ♫
♫ But us wrestlers, we fight until ♫
♫ That final bell is rung  ♫

TODD: Well, whoever ‘Graves’ is, whoever Flynn is, whoever Corey is… Whoever I am! I know this! ‘Graves’ had some FIGHTING words directed at Corey! Calling him a shark! Calling him a predator who only came back because he smells opportunity to glorify himself!

BAMA: Wild accusation! But he had a handful of quotes to back up his point!

TODD: All taken out of context!

♫ It’s been a long time, Corey ♫
♫ We know just why you’re here ♫
♫ Your heart and soul are empty ♫
♫ Hollow like the Engineer ♫

WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON? WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON?

TODD: …Oh my.

BAMA: ‘Graves’ directly comparing Corey and his so-called selfish return to climb back to the top to the Engineer’s famous opportunism!

TODD: ‘Graves’ is paranoid, Bama! He’s stabbing at shadows! Just like Corey said, ‘Graves’ accused Dolly last Anarchy of bowing down to Black Rainbow of all people!

BAMA: You say ‘paranoid’, I say he sees the TRUTH! He’s got an eye for every opponent! That’s how he’s been so successful!

TODD: Against opponents of the Revolution, Bama! Now he’s attacking his allies!

…Finally, finishing his slow, deliberate march, ‘Graves’ enters the ring and lifts the belt over his head.

[blue]♫ The workers won’t come second ♫
♫ Their needs are far great ♫
♫ Can’t let you stamp your name on it ♫
♫ Revolution will not wait ♫[

WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON? WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON?

Irwin finishes with a little banjo solo…

Before humbly sliding his instrument behind his back…

TODD: Strong words from ‘Graves’ and his merry band of misfits, claiming Corey wants to co-opt the Revolution to climb back to the top of the card!

BAMA: Strong and accurate! Of course that’s why Corey is back!

TODD: …Wait, didn’t Corey not go anywhere because he’s been ‘Micheal Graves’ this whole time!

BAMA: But then why would ‘Micheal Graves’ just trash Corey Smith if he’s Corey Smith!

TODD: Well, he’s… Mark Flynn… right?

BAMA: Now you’re getting it!

TODD: …I’m really not!

The entourage heads back up the ramp, as ‘Graves’ hands the belt off to the official, never taking his eyes off his opponent.

These two long-time adversaries stare each other down motionlessly…

As the official signals to the timekeeper!

DING DING!




"ALLEGEDLY" MICHEAL GRAVES©
- vs -
COREY SMITH

Non-title Match
Pure Wrestling Rules


TODD: Okay, I at least know the rules of this match! Pure Wrestling! Each competitor gets three rope breaks total! No closed fist punches to the face!

BAMA: And we know ONE of these competitors is Corey Smith and the other one is Mark Flynn! Corey dropped a loss to Flynn at the Cannabis Cup Final… and then a second one at the end of WarGames 2023…

TODD: I wouldn’t count that second one! It was two-on-one, Flynn had Ned in his corner!

Corey steps forward with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, shoulders loose, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

‘Graves’ tilts his masked head slowly, shoulders rolling back. His posture is tight, precise, like a coiled spring. He raises both hands high, a mock invitation to a collar-and-elbow tie-up.

TODD: ‘Graves’ offers to start with a collar-and-elbow tie-up… Will the faster Corey play into the hands of the more technical Fly-... er, ‘Graves’? I’m calling them by what they look like to reduce confusion!

BAMA: If I know one thing about Corey Smith, it’s that he ain’t backin’ down from nothin’! It might not be the smartest move, but ain’ no way he doesn’t accept ‘Gravy’’s challenge to lock horns!

Corey exhales sharply through his nose, grin fading into determination.

Indeed, Smith shoots forward, locking hands with Graves.

The two jockey for position, feet grapevining as they circle each other, hands moving to try and penetrate the other’s guard…

Graves’ shoulders hunch, and his masked face dips low — he grinds Corey backward with sharp footwork, forcing him into the corner.

TODD: Graves showing that veteran leverage right away — textbook positional wrestling!

BAMA: Graves is a chain-wrestling master, Todd! Corey’s dancing with a rattle snake!

Corey’s eyes widen, his lips pulling into a strained grimace as his back hits the buckles. He tries to wriggle free out of ‘Graves’’s grip! But ‘Graves’ presses Smith against the ropes, holding him there like an offensive lineman!

With Corey trapped against the ropes, the official starts a five-count!

ONE!

TWO!

TODD: …Wait! That light brush against the ropes doesn’t count as one of Corey’s rope breaks, does it?

ROPE BREAK

Corey Smith has TWO Rope Breaks Remaining


BAMA: Brilliant maneuver by Graves, using positional awareness to burn one of Smith’s previous rope breaks!

At the count of four, ‘Graves’ releases the grapple, raising both hands as the official backs him off the smaller Corey, who remains in the corner…

‘Graves’ feigns a clean break with a slow, exaggerated lift of his arms, like ‘What? ME disobey the rules?’… Corey releases the ropes and emerges, seeking another grapple…

When suddenly ‘Graves’ charges forward with his shoulder! Looking for a…

CORNER SPLASH!

Corey’s jaw clenches, instinct firing!

His hands latch onto the top ropes like they’re lifelines, legs springing up. With a surge of urgency, he snaps a rope-assisted kick into Graves’ chest!

Graves’ body jerks backward, arms flailing for a moment as he collapses to the mat with a theatrical flop, rolling onto his side.

TODD: Lightning fast kick by Smith! Corey battles Graves back with a smart counter!

BAMA: Smart? That’s a rope break, Todd! Read the rules!

Graves lies on the mat, masked face tilting toward the referee. His arm shoots out, finger extended in accusation, pointing directly at Corey’s grip, his hands still latched on the ropes. His body language is smug, almost triumphant despite taking the blow.

The official signals!

ROPE BREAK

Corey Smith has ONE Rope Break Remaining


TODD: That’s brutal! Corey had no choice — he had to defend himself!

BAMA: Choice or not, he’s already down to one rope break, Todd. That’s called experience. Graves is playing Chess while Corey’s still trying to figure out Guess Who!

TODD: One thing I will say… it’s never been more obvious that the man under the ‘Dark Warrior’ mask is currently Mark Flynn! Expertly exploiting the Pure Wrestling Rules to burn Corey’s very limited rope break resources!

Corey’s eyes flare, lips pressed tight as he shakes his head in frustration, pounding a fist into the turnbuckle pad. He mouths something toward the referee, clearly upset. The official shrugs, refusing to reverse the call. Corey exhales, before spinning back on his opponent.

Across from him, ‘Graves’ sits up slowly, his body language smug and satisfied. Then, deliberately, he rolls his shoulders and gets to his feet, a master who’s already tightened the screws on his younger opponent.

BAMA: ‘Graves’ has played Corey like a fiddle in the early going!

TODD: But, you’d be a fool to ever count Corey Smith out of a match! This one’s just getting started!
‘Graves’ charges Corey again, shoulders square, mask tilted forward with a hunter’s posture. He steps deliberately, heavy, meant to keep Corey cornered, possibly intending to burn his last rope break right now!

‘Graves’ charges!

But Corey shifts his weight lower, bouncing lightly, trying to duck under ‘Graves’’s attempted clench!

…As Corey tries to skirt by, ‘Graves’ catches Corey, yanking into a tight wristlock! Then, in a sudden transition, he slides behind Smith with a waist lock, jerking Corey’s body off his feet, trying to press him facefirst down to the mat!

…But as Corey’s body descends, he drops his hips, slips an elbow down, aaaaaand

SNAPMARE! ‘Graves’ goes up and over Corey’s shoulder!

…But ‘Graves’ front-somersaults, staying on his feet!

Corey, not to be out-done, rolls backwards with an almost gymnastic flip, preventing ‘Graves’ from taking a mount on him.

TODD: Corey escapes the hold!

BAMA: But ‘Graves’ is just gonna lock him in another hold! ‘Graves’ is Corey’s prison guard and Smith’s doing HARD TIME between those ropes!

‘Graves’ zips forward, trying for another grapple…

…But this time, Corey slips under, and starts breaking into a run!

He zips to the ropes, darting back toward ‘Graves’...

‘Graves’ straightens his spine, arms wide, his masked face turning side to side as he throws a…

HEAVY CHOP!

…Nope, Corey ducks it!

‘Graves’ grits his teeth, spinning to catch Corey on the way back with a…

LARIAT!

…Nope! Not even close, Corey ducks that one too!

[blue]TODD: Uh oh! Corey’s building up speed like a rocket car! And ‘Graves’ is too stubborn to get off the racetrack!

Corey bounces again, even faster off the ropes! ‘Graves’ bends forward, looking to clip Corey’s speed with a…

BACK BODY DROP!

…But Corey leapfrogs over, building EVEN MORE SPEED!

TODD: Look at the sheer, unmatched SPEED from Corey Smith! He’s turned this wrestling match into a track meet!

BAMA: And Graves looks like he’s tryin’ to kill flies with a swatter and missin’, Toddrick!

‘Graves’ exhales with frustration, arms wide looking to catch Corey in his mitts!

But Corey’s eyes narrow, his body coiling like a spring. He explodes forward with a surge of momentum, suddenly leaping into the air with a…

SHOTGUN DROPKICK!

…

CONNECTS!

‘Graves’’s body launches through the air like he just got hit by a Hummer! His masked head snapping back as his body crashes through the middle and top ropes!

TODD: This could turn into an ugly landing! That padding does virtually NOTHING to cushion the concrete outside!

‘Graves’ hands shoot out in desperation, clutching the top strand to stop himself from tumbling to the floor! His feet kick desperately to stop his backward momentum…

And he breathes heavily, relieved to be on the apron!

…

But the referee signals — ‘Graves’’s stopping himself on the apron is a rope break!

ROPE BREAK

‘Micheal Graves’ has TWO Rope Breaks Remaining


TODD: That’s one apiece! Graves is down to two!

BAMA: Big deal, Toddrick! ‘Graves’ still has the lead and he’s got the brains AND the smarts to burn Corey’s last one WELL BEFORE either of his two remaining breaks will come into play.

TODD: We’ll just s-... brains *and* smarts?

‘Graves’ steadies himself on the apron, his posture stiff with irritation. He barks at the official, arguing how the hell this is a rope break!

The official shrugs again, before pointing to the logo on his shirt! That’s all the justification he needs!

‘Graves’ shakes his head, rolling his shoulders before lunging back through the ropes… charging at Smith before Corey can retreat! Another grapple!

BAMA: There we go! Back in ‘Gravy’’s wheelhouse!

TODD: ‘Graves’ (if he is Flynn) is very good at chain wrestling, no doubt! But Corey Smith is one of the greatest wrestlers to ever grace the XWF as well, Bama!

Corey’s lips curl into a focused grin, his arms weaving quickly as the two exchange holds!

‘Graves’ tries an arm drag!

No! Corey twists through the air, latching a wristlock reversal!

Into a hammerlock!

No! ‘Graves’ spins through into a side-headlock!

NO! Corey pulls his head out and the two return to a neutral collar-and-elbow!

TODD: Corey’s keeping pace with Graves’ chain wrestling! …He might even be taking an advantage here!

‘Graves’ tucks low, executing a standing switch to zip behind Corey, trying to cinch a waistlock! His masked expression is tight, almost smug, thinking he’s finally got control…

But Corey’s eyes dart mischievously. He extends his ass backwards, bumping ‘Graves’ back a step! And Smith’s leg snaps up in a sudden…

MULE KICK!

Connects! Smith’s heel drives into ‘Graves’’s gut, shoving him back into the ropes!
The crowd cheers for Smith!

‘Graves’ grunts, arms flailing for balance. His chest caves from the impact as he rebounds off the ropes…

Corey’s face sharpens, a predator’s gleam in his eye. He spins, winding his leg back, the crowd roaring for a potential…

FACE PAIN DE-LUXE!!

Graves’ masked head jerks in panic, and, running on instinct stumbling backwards, clutching the  ropes for safety.

…Corey’s foot hangs in the air, like the sword of damocles, threatening but unreleased! He smiles ear-to-ear, before returning his foot to the mat!

The referee signals, pointing to ‘Graves’ gripping the ropes: another rope break used!

ROPE BREAK

‘Micheal Graves’ has ONE Rope Breaks Remaining


TODD: Graves is down to one rope break! Just like Corey!

BAMA: “Oh, that sneaky little—Corey didn’t even throw it! He wound up the kick, Graves thought it was coming and bailed!

TODD: A deviously clever move by Smith to even the score! Now each competitor has only one rope break remaining

…‘Graves’ realizes his error… he facepalms with an exaggerated slap, his masked head shaking. The crowd laughs.

Then his posture stiffens. His chest rises with a deep inhale. ‘Graves’ shoulders roll back, controlled, calm — the ring general regathering himself, resetting the chessboard.

Corey smiles ear-to-ear, knowing momentum has shifted in his favor, eager for another chance to tie-up with ‘Graves’!

…but, in a flash, ‘Graves’ zips forward, lunging low, hooking Corey’s ankle and tugging it out from under him!

DOUBLE LEG TAKEDOWN!

Corey stumbles, barely catching himself on his hands! He tries to spring back up to his feet…

But Graves’ hand darts up as Smith rises, fingers tangling in Corey’s hair. He jerks Corey back down to the mat with a cruel tug, posture radiating smug dominance as he cuts Corey’s running game off at the knees, before dropping a knee on Smith’s chest to prevent further escape attempts!

TODD: Ref! C’mon! That’s a hair pull!

BAMA: Where in the Pure Wrestling Rules does it say ‘no hair pulling’, Todd? Pull out the rule book, I’ll wait!

Corey winces, lips curling into a grimace as he claws at Graves’ grip. But Graves spins his hips, snapping Corey off his feet into a sharp…

HIP TOSS! Corey front-flips through the air, landing on his ass beside the ropes!

‘Graves’ keeps the attack going, pouncing into a mounted position above the prone Corey!

‘Graves’ rains raining down with piston-like fury, straight onto Corey’s skull and chest!

Corey raises his forearms, covering up tight, teeth gritted. His eyes dart sideways to the ropes… just within reach!

TODD: oooooooh, big decision time here! Does Corey want to burn his final rope break to force ‘Graves’ out of this mount!

BAMA: It’s a no-win scenario, Toddrick! It’s an escape momentarily… At which point, ‘Graves’ will just lock him in another hold! And Corey will be helpless to escape!

Smith’s body shifts… Like he’s considering a reach for the ropes!

…

Then! Suddenly, he twists with a burst of adrenaline, rolling Graves off-balance!

TODD: What agility! Corey escapes AND keeps his rope break!

Both men tumble across the mat, awkwardly tangled! They both shove off each other to scramble up to their feet!

As they both reach a vertical base, ‘Graves’’s arms suddenly SNAP around Corey’s waist…

Flipping him through the air!

NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX!

TODD: What a move!

‘Graves’ bridges over Smith’s body! The official drops to count!

ONE!

TW-

Suddenly, ‘Graves’ backward somersaults over Smiths’ prone form…

TODD: …Okay, this is impressive every time! We’re going to see back-to-BACK Northern Lights Suplexes!

‘Graves’, through sheer force of will, deadlifts Corey back up to his feet, trying to muscle Corey into a second…

NORTHERN LIGHTS SU-

…

Wait! No! Corey clamps down, anchoring his weight, preventing ‘Graves’’s back-to-back move!

TODD: There’s life in Corey Smith yet!

‘Graves’ dumps even more strength trying to get Smith up and over…

Corey lifts about a foot in the air…

But then brings himself down, and clasps ‘Graves’’s skull against his shoulder!

JAWBREAKER!

TODD: What a counter by Corey! And once more, the momentum shifts!

‘Graves’ staggers back, masked face jerking up, posture stumbling like he’s been rattled to the core!

Adrenaline firing through him. Corey dashes backwards for the ropes, springing forward with speed—

…

But ‘Graves’ charges right after him, just a half-step behind Smith’s sprint!

TODD: Was ‘Graves’ playing possum, or did he realize his moment was now or never?!?

Corey rebounds off the ropes, but instead of finding momentum, he collides gut-first with Graves’ knee!

KNEE LIFT!

Smith’s body jackknifes, rolling across the canvas, arms wrapped around his stomach in agony.

‘Graves’ spreads his arms wide, chest heaving, then thrusts a hand to his throat. The signal is clear.

TODD: ‘Graves’ is calling for it! THE END!

BAMA: Night-night, Corey!

‘Graves’ grabs Corey by the hair, forcing Smith to his feet… He latches on the front-facelock!

Pointing to the sky!

…HE LIFTS COREY! Perpendicular with the mat!

…

THE END!

…

……

IS COUNTERED!

Corey squirms loose,  finding the wherewithal to slide off the back as ‘Graves’ holds him for the delayed suplex cutter. His feet hit the mat, and he leaps into a desperate kick

As ‘Graves’ whirls around into a…

FACE PAIN DE-LUXE!!

…

……

CONNECTS!

The crowd explodes!

The kick cracks against Graves’ masked head with a thunderclap. ‘Graves’ body stiffens, then timber-falls to the mat like a felled redwood, landing flat beside the ropes.

TODD: OH MY GOD! He got him! Corey nailed the Face Pain De-Lux!

Corey collapses across Graves, chest heaving, hooking the far leg for the cover.

One!

Two!

THREE!

…

……


BUT ‘GRAVES’ FINGERS ARE CURLED AROUND THE BOTTOM ROPE!

BAMA: RING GENERAL! Even after getting kicked in the head, ‘Graves’ knows the ring like the back of his hand enough to grab the rope!

TODD: Impressive, Bama! But now, ‘Graves’ is OUT of rope breaks!

ROPE BREAK

‘Micheal Graves’ has NO Rope Breaks Remaining!!!


Corey rolls away, clutching his hair, raising an arm like he just won the match... Unfortunately for him, the official comes around and explains the situation… his arm slowly drops as frustration emanates from his face.

Meanwhile, ‘Graves’ lies sprawled on the mat, body limp, hand still clutching the rope like a lifeline.

TODD: For the moment, Corey has the advantage! He has one more rope break than ‘Graves’!

BAMA: But never count the ‘Dark Warrior’ out, Toddy baby! He’s gone 54 weeks without losing on Anarchy! He might just have one last trick up his sleeve!

TODD: But will it be enough to take down Corey Smith?

Corey argues with the referee as ‘Graves’ slowly starts coming to, using the ropes to help himself rise to a standing position. Corey runs his soft hands through his sweat-slicked hair as he stares at the referee in disbelief.

That’s when an exhausted ‘Graves’ uses every last ounce of his energy to strike!

‘Graves’ grabs Flynn by the back of his head, smashing Corey’s skull into his knee with a reverse DDT! But ‘Graves’ doesn’t stop there- he follows up immediately with a Cross Rhodes! Corey Smith’s head slams into the knee, and then into the mat in immediate succession!

TODD: LOGICAL CONCLUSION! HE JUST HIT THE LOGICAL CONCLUSION!

BAMA: That might be the ‘logical conclusion’ to this match if you ask me, Todd!

The referee drops down to count the pinfall attempt!



1!











2!!











3!!!



WINNER: ‘Allegedly’ Micheal Graves


TODD: I can’t believe it, I can’t believe it! The Anarchy Champion just pulled another rabbit out of his hat, and now, he’s riding into Relentless on one of the most impressive streaks we’ve ever seen!


BAMA: I don’t think Corey Smith can believe it either, Todd! He thought he had this match won, but the referee clearly had different plans!


TODD: If I know anything about Corey Smith, Bama: he won’t let this be the end of it! But he can’t do anything more tonight: because that’s the end of our show! Thank you, God Bless, and make sure you pre-order all 3 Nights of Relentless before we run out of copies!


BAMA: It’s going to be off-the-rails in Miami!


TODD: That’s our show, folks! We will see you all next time in MIAMI for the best damn Premium Live Event of the year, every year: RELENTLESS!


Fade Out.

Thanks and Preeshes to…

MATCH WRITERS
Better Call Sol
Bright Shiny Nickles
It’s the Principle of the Thing

SEGMENT WRITERS
Hold the Kline
Charles-in-Charge
Atty-Three-Belts

AND EVERYYONE WHO RP’D!
]]> <![CDATA[ANARCHY - 8/21/2025]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=49152 Sat, 09 Aug 2025 18:32:59 -0700 Jimmy Stars]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=49152
JOEY WHEEL-AND-DEALER: Well, that doesn’t look right.


FROM RIDING TO RODEO
[Image: vuE1ZV0.png]
08 - 21 - 2025

LIVE! FROM THE… JIM NORICK ARENA(?)

OKLAHOMA CITY, OKLAHOMA



Chaos reigns. Sirens are wailing, but off in the distance. Seemingly blocks away. The hollowed-out arena looms silently overhead, dominating the landscape before him. It’s clear that this building is one stiff breeze away from toppling over. Unfortunately, it very much is the arena at which Anarchy is supposed to take place in a few days.

JOEY WHEEL-AND-DEALER: Stars has lost his mind. Oh well.

Joey Wheel-and-Dealer turns toward the crew and starts flailing around in his oversized staff jacket like a man trying to conduct an orchestra with a broom handle.

JOEY WHEEL-AND-DEALER: Let’s move it, people! We’ve got a show to produce. XWF doesn’t run on excuses, it runs on the hard work and tireless dedication of the Sisyphus of the Xtreme - the thankless behind-the-scenes crew, which is us! All week every week! You know the drill-

Suddenly, a distant BOOM echoes. Then another. The ground shakes underfoot. Crew members stop what they’re doing. Joey blinks, confused, just as a low rumble overtakes the parking lot.

[Image: s3ZW6fP.gif]

Implosion charges hidden in the Jim Norick Arena detonate in perfect sequence. Before anyone can react, the entire arena collapses like a house of cards, swallowed in a cloud of dust and debris.

JOEY WHEEL-AND-DEALER: …Oh, son of a-

The dust cloud envelops Joey completely.

JOEY WHEEL-AND-DEALER: …Jimmy.

He stumbles out of it, covered in gray soot, coughing and wheezing. His sunglasses are cracked. His headset dangles off one ear. He looks around at the stunned crew.

TRUCK DRIVER: You okay boss?

JOEY WHEEL-AND-DEALER: Was that-

Wheel-and-Dealer turns around, to see the crater and pile of rubble where the Jim Norrick arena used to be. He slowly turns back to the crew.

JOEY WHEEL-AND-DEALER: (long pause) Well l’ll be a son of a biscuit. In all my years- Heh. That hobbling weasel really did try to kill us.

TRUCK DRIVER: So, what are we going to do?

Joey throws his clipboard down into the dust at his feet.

JOEY WHEEL-AND-DEALER: There’s only one thing we can do.

TRUCK DRIVER: Which is?


FROM RIDING TO RODEO RUBBLE
[Image: vuE1ZV0.png]
08 - 21 - 2025

LIVE! FROM WHAT’S LEFT OF THE JIM NORICK ARENA!

OKLAHOMA CITY, OKLAHOMA




SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX

Singles


[Image: wireline.png]




REGGIE ESTRADA
- vs -
JC KEETON

Singles


[Image: wireline.png]




MARISOL VILARO
- vs -
INQUISITION

Singles


[Image: wireline.png]




CELESTINE GALE
- vs -
SIR LIONEL PENNYFARTHING

Singles


[Image: wireline.png]



Anarchy Tag-Team #1 Contendership

Matthias Syn & Charlie Nickles
- vs -
The Money Titans
Thias Watts & Mr. Oz

Tag-Team Match


[Image: wireline.png]



Atara Raven
- vs -
Preston Vanderlay Esquire
- vs -
(Revolution #1 Contender)
XXXVI

Triple Threat Match


[Image: wireline.png]




CO-MAIN

Dolly Waters ©
- vs -
"Allegedly" Micheal Graves ©

Plus - XWF Legend Centurion will be sitting at ringside as the timekeeper and enforcer (as needed)!

Non-Title Singles w/Special Guest


[Image: wireline.png]





ANARCHY TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP

THEM NO GOOD BASTARDS © (Knuckles & Bourbon)
- vs -
THE TRIBE (Collins & Kline)

Tag-Team Match



Plumes of Blue and White pyrotechnics shoot out from tubes around the makeshift entry ramp and mark the start of our show! On this strange occasion, the XWF has taken over the pile of rubble that used to be the Jim Norick Arena in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma for a highly dubious edition of Thursday Night ANARCHY. Thousands of fans pour noise into this crater, some already clutching fresh merch and plastic cups, others still filling in from the dusty parking lot. Even still, there are hundreds, nay, millions more who are watching and x-streaming live from their homes.

As the last sparks fizzle, “Lithium” by Nirvana hits the speakers, officially welcoming XWF fans to the latest chapter of their favorite syndicated full-contact wrestling show, the one and only A-Show.


TODD: I’ll never not have my blood pumping after hearing our opening theme. Which we all need now more than ever, cause our arena is missing.

BAMA: Crank it, baby. Nothing gets you right like Nirvana rattlin’ the rubble. We’re gonna do this one way or the other. The XWF cannot be stopped!

The Anarchy announce team is at ringside, set for a long night. With “Lithium” still pounding, the cameras sweep across the ocean of faces from every section, catching homemade signs and day-one shirts. Oklahoma City is ready, and the memory of Sturgis still hangs in the air like gasoline. The hard cam cuts through the glow of phones and the shimmer of belts as the noise crests and breaks.


DOLLY FEVER NEVER ENDS

ALL HAIL THE TRIBE

THE JIM NORICK ARENA - “ALLEGEDLY”

VILARO VICTORY TOUR

JC KEETON RISES

OKC BELIEVES IN XXXVI

PENNYFARTHING FOR PM

MAKE INQUISITION TAP

ATARA IS MY 24/7 CHAMPION

WHEEL-AND-DEALER IS THE TRUE GM!


TODD: Two weeks ago Sturgis gave us carnage and clarity. Marisol Vilaro took the New Rider match and rode out with the keys. Preston Vanderlay Esquire stole one on a technicality when Regan Vale did his dirty work. XXXVI landed from the heavens with The Teeth of God and stunned Mr. Oz in the circle of bikes. Celestine Gale buried Inquisition until it was bodies under bikes, then signed her art with a crescent. And Aiden Collins survived the biker chain and touched all four corners to edge out Atara Raven.

BAMA: That scrapyard fight was one of my all-time favorites. But all-in-all, it was a banger of a show.

The camera settles on the desk. Todd adjusts his tie, Bama leans forward with a grin.

TODD: Before we run tonight down, quick housekeeping. Jimmy Stars is still suspended without pay. But somehow, someway… even being suspended, Jimmy still fucked this show up.

BAMA: Ehh. He can keep not showin’ up, too. We’re going to work it out, as we always do!

TODD: Now, here is what Oklahoma City is getting tonight. We start with Summer Page vs. Latoya Hixx. Power against precision, pride on the line after that bar fight chaos in Sturgis.

BAMA: Then Reggie Estrada vs. JC Keeton. Reggie throws hands like he owes himself money. Keeton has been stacking momentum. Somebody is leaving with a bigger lane toward Relentless.

TODD: Marisol Vilaro vs. Inquisition follows. Vilaro just cashed in a statement win, Inquisition just crawled out from under steel. Clash of aura, clash of game plans.

BAMA: After that, Celestine Gale vs. Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing. Gale is a walking séance. Lionel is a gentleman bruiser who likes to turn a phrase and a jaw. Don’t blink during this one, folks.

TODD: Tag mayhem next. Syn and Charlie team up against The Money Titans: Thias, and Oz. Two teams, one ring, a lot of receipts to collect after the Knuckle Saloon.

BAMA: Then a wild one. Atara Raven vs. Preston Vanderlay Esquire vs. XXXVI. Atara brings footwork and fire. PVE brings lawyers and loopholes. XXXVI brings flight plans. One of these three superstars are going to emerge from the Jim Norick crater tonight!

TODD: The co-main is a non-title showcase. Dolly Waters vs. “Allegedly” Micheal Graves, with Centurion sitting it out as the special guest timekeeper. Dolly is always two moves ahead. Graves is always two stories deep. Eyes on the clock, eyes on the stakes, and all eyes now firmly on Relentless.

BAMA: And your main event, belts up high. TK and BB defend the Anarchy Tag Team Championships against The Tribe. The Bastards swaggered into Sturgis and stirred the hornet’s nest. They’ve been the dominant tag team on our brand, and well, throughout XWF’s history. Can the Tribe change that here tonight?

The shot widens. Fans clap in rhythm. A kid on the rail bangs the barricade in time with the music. A handheld passes over a row of grinning faces and fresh foam fingers.

TODD: Seven matches, one former arena that sounds like a jet engine, and a straight shot into the home stretch toward Relentless. Every win tonight matters. Every mistake becomes a highlight or a headline.

BAMA: Saddle up, Oklahoma. Anarchy is live, and the fuse is lit!

TODD: Don’t say that. We’ve had enough fuses lit in the Jim Norick recently. The only fuse I want to light now is the one attached to Jimmy Stars.

BAMA: Hey, my bad Toddy! Just because we all had to bring our own chairs, doesn’t mean we can’t bring our own fun, too!

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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: It is truly a treat to have Summer Page here on Thursday nights! Always one of the highlights of Anarchy!

BAMA: She’s been dominant, no doubt, Toddy! Especially over her opponent!

TODD: It’s true! Summer and Latoya have wrestled multiple times across multiple companies, as Summer covered in her promo… And Summer’s come out on top every time! But any given night…

BAMA: Any given Thursday! Summer’s one of the best ever to grace Anarchy… But can Latoya get on the scoreboard tonight!

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.

…



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TODD: …Lengthy entrance, huh, Bama?

BAMA: I looked at the production budget for Latoya’s entrances…

TODD: And?

BAMA: It’s more than the referee’s salary.

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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!

TODD: Quite an entrance from Latoya Hixx! We’ve seen Latoya dominate some weeks… and struggle others!

BAMA: No doubt, Toddy! Latoya’s a goddamned OX of a woman. She can overpower anyone on the roster… But, in the ring… Something doesn’t click.

TODD: A lack of experience? Or maybe excess bravado? Either way, Latoya has the physical power and clearly the discipline building her body to succeed in the wrestling world! And it only takes one match to turn everything around.

BAMA: And if she could score a win over Summer Page tonight? It’d send her stock SKYROCKETING!

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!

…

Summer Page lifts her chin, lips curling into a smirk as she struts forward, arms loose at her sides, radiating entitlement and confidence. She raises one hand, wagging her fingers dismissively at Latoya like she’s daring her to try something.

Latoya snarls, eyes wide with pride wounded, pounding her chest with both fists She stomps forward, lowering her shoulders, challenging Summer head-on.

BAMA: Oh! Latoya ain’t waiting! Someone ring the bell!

The official, surprised by Latoya’s charge, decides to roll with it!

DING DING!



SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX
Singles



Summer, smirk never leaving her face, circles to Latoya’s side and feints a lock-up, but then darts behind with sharp footwork, cinching a waistlock.

TODD: Latoya’s opening gambit, countered quickly by Summer Page1

BAMA: Summer’s got YEARS of experience in the game! It ain’t her first rodeo, so she won’t get thrown by a bull charging her!

Latoya grits her teeth, face turning red with effort as she spreads her legs wide to block the takedown, hands clawing at Summer’s wrists. She jerks her arms, trying to break free, but Summer clings tight, pressing her cheek against Latoya’s back, calculating her next move.

Summer suddenly drops her hips low, rolling Latoya into a quick schoolgirl pin!

TODD: Summer going for a new record in beating Latoya!

BAMA: The quickest victory in Anarchy history?!?

ONE!

TW-Latoya kicks out!

TODD: Not this time! Latoya just too strong to get caught that easily!

BAMA: S’all mindgames, Toddy! Page making it clear Latoya’ strength ain’t worth a damn in the ring with a more technically-skilled grappler like Summer!

Page rolls off to her feet. Her eyes sparkle with arrogance, as though she’s just toying with her opponent.

Latoya’s eyes widen in shock—humiliation flashing across her face as she sits up on her knees, pounding the mat with her fist, shouting in anger.

TODD: Think you’re right, Bama! Summer’s deliberately getting under Latoya’s skin.

BAMA: It’s a risky strategy tho, Toddrick! Latoya’s too strong to be toyed with like this. Summer’s pokin’ a hornet’s nest.

Summer, rising smoothly, brushes invisible dust off her gear, her smirk growing wider at Latoya’s frustration. She raises her arms like she’s conducting an orchestra, playing to the crowd, basking in their reaction.

Latoya’s eyes burn with fury! She steamrolls forward with a wild swing…

CLOTHESLINE!

…Nope! Summer ducks under effortlessly, her eyes darting like a chess player seeing three moves ahead.

She spins on her heel, Latoya’s eyes widen ins shock… as Page grabs Latoya’s arm, and snaps her into a crisp…

ARM DRAG!

Page kips up immediately, wagging her finger as if scolding a child.

TODD: Wow! Page is looking confident!

BAMA: Sometimes you know you got somebody’s number! Page is putting a clinic on with Latoya Hixx!

TODD: It’s impressive… Until Page slips and Hixx catches her on the wrong foot!

Latoya sits up from the mat, her face a mix of shock and rage, shaking her head like she can’t believe she’s being thrown around. She slaps the mat and rises fast, charging again.

…BIG BOOT!

…No go!

Summer sidesteps again, grabs a headlock, and wrenches down with precision. Her jaw clenches, eyes narrowed, making it clear she’s tightening the noose.

Latoya’s face twists as she stomps around, trying to shove Summer off. Latoya’s teeth grit, nostrils flaring with frustration at being grounded.

Hixx shoves Summer into the ropes, but Summer uses the rebound momentum to swing back with a sharp…

SHOULDER TACKLE!

…

Ehhhhhh, that’s not happening.

Summer bounces off Latoya—who doesn’t budge an inch.

TODD: …Miscalculation by Miss Page there! She might have too much confidence against Hixx if she thinks she can bowl over the strongest woman on Anarchy!

Summer’s eyes flicker with annoyance, lips pursed in frustration. She tries again, running the ropes.

SHOULDER BLOCK!

Same result—Latoya stands tall, smirking now, her chest puffing with pride.

…Page, confidence challenged, rubs her shoulder realizing it’s a little sore after that second attempt.

TODD: That’s the power of Latoya Hixx—like running into a brick wall!

Latoya grins ear-to-ear, roaring and flexing… Before surging forward to grapple Page!

But Summer side-steps, gripping Latoya’s wrist and twisting it into a smooth wristlock.

BAMA: There we go! Summer’s back in the driver’s seat with that technical flair!

Latoya winces, face twisted in pain, hopping on one leg as Summer torques the arm. Her mouth hangs open in disbelief—she thought she had the advantage.

Summer yanks the arm down into a…

ARM DDT!

Hixx grips her wrist, shaking out her arm as her funny bone twinges with pain… But, Summer rolls through, holding the front facelock, and neatly converting onto a chinlock, her smile sharp, her eyes glaring down like a predator with prey.

BAMA: Ya gotta imagine how tough this is for Hixx… She keeps facing off with Page… but the gulf between their abilities only seems to increase!

TODD: Almost no one is more dedicated to upping their game week-to-week than Summer Page!

Latoya grimaces, teeth gnashing, clawing at Summer’s arms, but the frustration builds. Her face flushes red—she’s not used to being outmaneuvered like this.

Summer wrenches tighter, nodding her head as though instructing the referee to “just ask her.”

…The official glances, asking if Latoya wants to subm-

Latoya suddenly lets out a primal yell, forcing herself up to her knees! Her eyes blaze with fury, veins standing out in her neck!

TODD: Uh oh! I think Latoya’s PISSED OFF!

She throws back elbows HARD!

ONCE!


TWICE! Catching Summer in the RIBS!

Summer stumbles back, eyes wide in surprise, clutching her ribs. For the first time her smug veneer cracks.

TODD: Oh my! Hixx connects with some vicious elbows!

BAMA: And Summer looks hurt!

Latoya seizes the moment, her face twisting with determination. She lunges forward, scoops Summer up across her chest with a sudden surge of raw power…

MONSTER FALLAWAY SLAM!

TODD: Whoa! Latoya Hixx with the power game, and just like that, momentum shifts!
BAMA: Not just momentum, Toddy! That move could put anyone away! Could Hixx actually steal this one?!?

Latoya staggers to her feet after the Fallaway Slam, eyes wide, chest heaving. For the first time all match, she looks confident, her lips curling into a hopeful grin. She throws her arms wide, motioning for Summer to rise, shouting, “Get up!” The crowd roars in anticipation.

Summer groans, pushing up on her elbows… as if the oxygen was driven out of her with those elbow strikes…

TODD: Oh man! Summer might not know where she is!

BAMA: This would be the upset of the century!

Latoya stomps her foot, eyes blazing, and charges with her leg cocked high…

BICYCLE KICK!

…

NO!

At the last possible instant, Summer ducks to the side! Hixx skids past, having put everything she had in that kick, her feet are off balance.

As easily as taking a book off a shelf, Page wraps Latoya in a tight front facelock. Summer’s cocky smirk returns, as she raises an arm for the crowd!

TODD: Page’s got Hixx hooked—Pure Perfection incoming!

Summer kicks a leg up for max impact!

PURE PERFEC-

…NO!

With a burst of raw power, Latoya bellows and hauls Summer off her feet, clutching her tight against her chest.

BEAR HUG!

TODD: Bear Hug! Hixx has her signature Bear Hug in the center of the ring! Page is nowhere near the ropes!

BAMA: …Oh my God! This could be hit!

Latoya’s jaw drops open in a wild, hopeful roar! Hixx clamps down, every muscle in her arms flexing, her eyes screaming “TAP OUT! TAP OUT!”

Summer gasps, face twisting in agony as the air squeezes from her lungs. Her eyes flicker—panic flashing!

The official asks Summer if she’s giving up…

Summer’s arm shakes!

BAMA: NO WAY!

Page grimaces, then snakes her arm up around Latoya’s skull, jaw tight with determination…

TODD: Summer’s fading fast! Latoya’s got her dead to rights!

Bama: SQUEEZE, Latoya! Finish it!

…Summer…

SUMMER!

…

Summer…



Straightens her body in the air, legs snapping upward like a gymnast!

TODD: …whoa, never seen this before!

Page’s eyes sharpen into focus as she whips her weight forward, gripping Latoya by the skull!

And spikes Latoya’s head straight into the mat!

1999! (Impaler DDT)

TODD: WOW! What a maneuver!

BAMA: With that impact, Latoya’s face might have left an imprint on the mat!

Latoya’s body goes limp, her face blank with shock as she flops to the canvas.

Summer rolls through smoothly, pressing her chest down tight, hooking the leg with one hand and raising the other like royalty already basking in her coronation.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

WINNER: SUMMER PAGE!


The bell rings.

Summer sits up, hair wild, lips curling into a victorious smirk. She pats her chest like she’s dusting herself off, looking down at Latoya with disdain.

TODD: Latoya Hixx was so close—she had Summer Page in deep trouble, but the veteran instincts came out at the last second.

BAMA: Was a close call, Todd! But the record remains Page - 100%, Hixx - 0%. Not a stain on Hixx’s talent… That’s just how good Summer Page is. What a match!

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The smoke fills up with gray on the stage, as the arena lights flickers. Then once we see "The Rebellious One" on the X-Tron, then we hear the boom bap of 1999 on the the X-Tron itself. Then we see Reggie coming onto the stage with his hoodie on, and he shadow boxes infront of the camera and talkin smack as he walked down, then he gives the fans on the ramp some dap as he went to the ring. Then he simply sildes into it, and got up and taunted to the crowd with his fist up as his theme fades out.

Todd: And here comes one of the most notorious THUGZ on the XWF Roster- Reggie Estrada! A former X-treme Champion, 3 times over, Reggie Estrada comes to every match with just one intention: to cause as much mayhem and destruction as possible! JC Keeton had better watch out tonight!

Bama T: We’d all better watch out tonight, Todd! I only see one Thug headed to the ring, which means Reggie’s amigos are probably outside in the parking lot, stealing catalytic converters!

Todd: But the real question, Bama is: Can Reggie steal a win here tonight?

Bama T: A Thug like Reggie can steal anything he sets his mind to, Todd!



A deep bass rumble hits first—like the distant crack of a thunderstorm rolling over farmland. The screen flickers to life with vintage home video clips: grainy footage of a young JC in headgear wrestling in dusty high school gyms… riding horses… before fast-forwarding to JC lifting the IWF world title!

BLACK SCREEN.

A burst of golden-white pyro erupts from both sides of the entrance ramp!

JC KEETON bursts through the curtain with laser focus. He doesn’t slow down. No theatrics. No posturing. He walks with an athlete’s gait—loose shoulders, tight fists, jaw locked, eyes burning forward.

He doesn’t look left or right. Just straight down the aisle, headed straight for the ring.

Todd: And here comes JC Keeton! The former IWF World Champion in the flesh, JC Keeton has become a top star since making the jump to XWF Anarchy! He’s had battle after battle, and tonight, he has-

Bama T: Holy shit, Todd! Reggie Estrada isn’t waiting for the bell to ring: he’s already starting this match!

Sure enough, Bama’s right! As soon as JC Keeton slides into the ring, Reggie Estrada pounces on him after delivering a slew of vicious kicks! The referee tries to pull Reggie back, but it’s no use! THE THUG is deadset on starting this match early! He delivers a few elbows to the skull of JC Keeton, but after a few moments of violence, Keeton is able to push Reggie off of him!

That’s when the referee calls for the bell!!!

DING! DING! DING!



REGGIE ESTRADA
- vs -
JC KEETON

Singles


JC Keeton is already holding his bruised head by the time the bell rings. Reggie charges right back in, going for a big lariat: but Keeton sees it coming and ducks! JC Keeton charges towards the opposite ropes, bounces off them, and then comes running back towards Reggie Estrada!

Keeton runs right into a big boot from the Thug!

Reggie Estrada dominates the opening segment of the match, delivering a slew of boots to his grounded opponent before following up with a drop elbow! Then, Estrada starts putting his jiu jitsu to work. He mounts his downed opponent, and alternates between big blows to the head and attempts at submissions- but JC Keeton is too experienced, and too technical! After Reggie tries working Keeton into an armbar, JC is able to break free of the hold and scramble up to his feet!

Todd: This match has been all Reggie, all Estrada so far! But now, Keeton’s back on his fight: and he’s looking to shift the momentum!

Bama T: Keeton’s facing the Thuggish, Ruggish Reggie Estrada tonight, so it’s not going to be that easy!

As soon as Reggie rises, Keeton charges in and tries to hit him with a dropkick: but Reggie sidesteps the move! Keeton falls to the mat, eating nothing but canvass! Keeton quickly scrambles back to his feet and avoids a few haymakers from Reggie. Keeton tries to grab a hold of Reggie and take him to the mat with a double leg takedown slam, but Reggie’s been hitting the gym! Estrada sprawls out of the takedown attempt, delivering a few body shots to Keeton’s ribs to ward off future attempts. Nevertheless, Keeton remains determined, and grabs a hold of Reggie’s leg! JC tries to drive forward with Reggie’s leg to complete the takedown, but before he secure it, Reggie reaches out and grabs the ropes! The referee barks at Keeton to let go of Reggie, and he reluctantly agrees!

Todd: In a shocking twist, Reggie Estrada was just saved by the ropes!

Bama T: The dirtiest player in the game, taking advantage of all the rules while simultaneously breaking them whenever he wants! You love to see it!

The referee pushes JC Keeton back to give Reggie space…but Reggie takes advantage of this opportunity! With Keeton distracted by the referee’s interference, Estrada charges forward and knocks him loopy with a REG-KO! out of nowhere!

Bama T: RKO! RKO! Reggie just hit an RKO!

Todd: That dirty, no good THUG! He used the referee’s interference to his advantage, and managed to hit Keeton with one of the most powerful moves in all of sports entertainment!

The referee looks down in shock and horror, but has no choice but to count Reggie’s pinfall attempt!




1!












2!!!!







KICKOUT!!!!


Todd: I can’t believe, JC Keeton just kicked out! He’s still alive in this match!

Bama T: But Reggie’s looking to put him away here, you can take that to the bank!

Reggie slams the mat in frustration before turning to the referee and screaming at him for his slow count. Then, Reggie turns his focus back towards Keeton. Reggie curbstomps Keeton in the back of the skull, and a pool of blood begins leaking from JC’s head. But Reggie doesn’t stop there. Instead, Reggie grabs Keeton by his blood-stained hair, and lifts him up into position for a KILLSWITCH!

Then, Reggie hits his patented Azteca Sunrise!

The referee counts the pin!






1!


















2!!












3!!!!




Winner: Reggie Estrada


Reggie rises to his feet, drenched in sweat as the referee raises his arm in victory. JC Keeton rolls out of the ring, battered and bruised as Estrada charges towards the turnbuckle and climbs the ropes. Reggie celebrates his victory atop the turnbuckle, looking out towards all the fans in the arena, riling them up after his big win!

Bama T: What a statement win from Reggie Estrada! Many people saw him as the underdog here tonight, but he made short work of JC Keeton! Estrada just put the rest of the Anarchy roster on notice!

Todd: Reggie cheated at the beginning of the match, he bent the rules in the middle of the match, and then he got lucky with that Azteca Sunrise! Reggie just caught Keeton offguard tonight, Bama, but I suppose you’re right….if Estrada can do this to Keeton, he can do it to anyone!

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TODD: Folks, you may want to turn the brightness up on your screen… If you’re watching at night, you may want to wait until morning.

BAMA: Don’t be a wuss, Toddrick! This match will be fantastic and it will also CHILL TO YOUR VERY CORE!

TODD: Ahhhh!



A crow caws.

The lights flicker, as the anxiety-inducing first few chords of Dies Irae erupt across the stadium. As all lights center to the top of the stage, creating a path of light down to the ring. Fans erupt into screams, as the Inquisitor's faithful murder whip out their flashlights. The Inquisitor walks out onto the ramp, clad in his leather trench-coat, gloved hands in and full-black getup.

The eye-rings around his mask glint in the light, and you can almost feel him smile through it.

TODD: Inquisition! An inhuman monster of a creature wrought from the labyrinthine depths of the Earth!

BAMA: It makes me physically uncomfortable to look at him or listen to him! And he’s also a killer in the ring!

TODD: Also, maybe a killer regularly?!?

BAMA: It’s unclear, Bama!

With a sudden burst, he dashes down the ring, sliding under the third rope. Throwing his arms out to his side, and his head in the air, he breathes in the sweet sound of fear and adoration. His hands jerk to grasp their opposite shoulders, in a self-hug of sorts. Giving himself a quick squeeze, he runs his hands along his shoulders and across his throat like blades before turning to face his opponent.

…



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.

TODD: Speaking of horrifying monsters… Marisol Vilaro!

BAMA: She’s a business woman! The CEO of #VilaroFitness! The dean of Vilaro U, a for-profit college-like experience!

TODD: But she’s also among the deadliest creatures Black Rainbow has in their ranks!

BAMA: No doubt there, Toddrick! Mari was already top-tier Anarchy talent before she joined Black Rainbow… But ever since she joined BR, she’s been on another level. Absolutely dominant! She destroyed Latoya Hixx last Anarchy with three straight Vilaro suplexes!

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: Does the entrance have to be all of Shake It Off?

BAMA: It’s in her contract, Todd!

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: The official looks hesitant to speak to either of these nefarious characters…

BAMA: I don’t blame him, Toddy! If I were him, I wouldn’t ring the bell until I was safely backstage. I’d call this from the safety of a room with a locked door so neither of these creatures could get me!

DING DING!



MARISOL VILARO
- vs -
INQUISITION
Singles Match



Marisol’s nostrils flare as she circles the ring, sweat already glistening on her brow from a restless warm-up. She smirks—cocky, venomous—as she pounds her fist against her chest, pointing at Inquisition…

TODD: Vilaro is the peak of physical fitness! A conditioning maestro!

BAMA: If she chased you in an empty parking lot, you wouldn’t make it far…

TODD: …Bama, you could’ve just said she’s very fast.

BAMA: She is. If she wanted your life? You wouldn’t stand a chance of escaping, Toddrick.

TODD: …ehhhhhhhhhh.

With a sudden snap of her head, Vilaro’s eyes narrow!

She lunges forward.

Inquisition’s body tenses like a coiled spring! The moment Marisol surges forward with a gripple, he pivots, lips curling back ever so slightly as if savoring the incoming collision. He drops his weight low, catching her with a sudden spinning wrist lock and wrenching with cruel precision!

TODD: Oho! The first exchange goes Inquisition’s way! Very rare for Marisol not to open dominantly!

Inquisition, almost like a child toying with a defenseless animal, twists Marisol’s arm, as if testing it for durability… Seeing how much pressure would make it snap like a twig…

Marisol’s mouth twists into a snarl of fury, her body jerking with the pain, but her pride won’t allow a scream. Her free hand balls into a fist and she drives it like a hammer into Inquisition’s ribs!

ONE

TWO

THREE shots to the solarplexus!

Inquisition winces, his lips pressed tight, his shoulders hunching from the body shots—but there’s no hesitation. Instead his eyes flare wide, a twitch of madness breaking through, and he shoves her backward, whipping her into the ropes with a violent snap of his arm. Inquisition

Marisol rebounds, hair flying, her face alight with fiery defiance.  Inquisition’s expression sharpens, the faintest sneer betraying his contempt… He steels himself for Marisol’s return off the ropes…

She launches herself into the air, twisting mid-sprint into a…

HANDSPRING ELBOW!

…NO!

At the last second, Inquisition surges forward, catching Marisol mid-motion with an explosive …

CHARON’S CONSECRATION! (off-the-ropes Uranage!)

TODD: Oh my! Early power move by Inquisition connects!

BAMA: All that learning and studying seems to be paying off, Toddy! Inquisition seems to be crawling in Marisol’s brain like a tapeworm consuming her mind from within…

TODD: …Bama, I’m literally not going be able to sleep tonight if you keep doing this.

Inquisition falls on top of Vilaro’s hissing in her face as he hooked the leg…

ONE!

TW-NO!

Vilaro shoves Inquisition off defiantly before even the count of two!

Marisol crashes hard, her jaw slackening in shock as her back arches in pain. She pounds a fist into the mat, her eyes going wild with rage.

Inquisition scrambles to his feet! As Vilaro rises, he tears off a…

SPINNING HEEL KICK!

…But Vilaró ducks, doing a full matrix bridge under the flying monster! And Inquisition goes up and over, eating mat!

TODD: What a dodge by Marisol! The sheer athleticism!

BAMA: That’s #VilaroFit in action, baby! Did you know Vilaro U students get access to the entire VilaroFit library as part of their tuition? What a deal!

TODD: …Bama, a semester of college is *way* more expensive that a fitness program subscription.

Gritting her teeth, Vilaro kips up off the mat, grabbing at Inquisition’s ankle with desperate spite and twisting it into a vicious…

HEEL HOOK!

Inquisition’s stoic mask finally cracks—his eyes bulge, and his mouth twists into a silent snarl of anguish!

TODD: Devastating submission by Marisol! Can Inquisition escape?!? 

Inquisition claws at the mat, dragging himself inch by inch toward the ropes, veins popping at his temples.

The official hovers over the creature carefully asking if he can continue?

Marisol’s teeth flash in a triumphant grin as she wrenches tighter, her whole body shuddering with exertion…

Inquisition’s hand tremors…

It shakes…

Will he tap?

…NO!

Instead, Inquisition finally lunges forward, his fingers clutching the ropes.

TODD: Inquisition holds on!

BAMA: Which just lets Mari do her cool down exercises straight onto his throat!

Mari continues twisting Inquisitions’s heel, torturing the hellion… until the referee steps in, forcing the break!

Both competitors peel apart, glaring daggers through sweat-soaked strands of hair.

TODD: A brief moment of peace between these two… somehow, I don’t think it’s going to last.

BAMA: These two hellspawn don’t know the meaning of the word peace. Or mercy. Only pain.

Inquisition’s eyes narrow, jaw tight… when suddenly, he bursts off the ropes, his long limbs cutting through the air with raw, reckless energy!

His lips part just slightly, a faint hiss escaping like steam from the Forge itself…

He hurls himself forward…

SHOULDER BLOCK!

…Countered!

Marisol pivots sharply, her grin curling wicked as her arms snake down…

And catch the charging Inquisition’s chest! Mari propels him into the air! Inquisition’s feet leave the ground!

He soars up!

…

And comes down!

WHAM! Straight onto Mari’s swinging shoulder! A hellacious European uppercut!

TODD: What a strike by Mari! Inquisition looks dazed and confused!

Inquisition’s legs look like jelly under him after that uppercut to the skull… He hisses, possibly involuntarily… As Mari cranks her neck, like she’s preparing for a clean-and-jerk…

With a violent torque of her hips, she rips Inquisition into a front facelock… Aaaaaaaand…

SNAP SUPLEX!

TODD: My God! The sheer strength of Vilaro!

BAMA: And you can have that strength to you! For just $12,000 a semester in tuition…

Inquisition’s teeth clack together on impact, his face briefly contorting into a grimace as his body arches from the mat. His hand reaches instinctively to his lower back…

But before he can even rise, Marisol’s shadow looms over him.

Her face twists into a sneer of superiority as she drops down, cinching his legs into a…

TEXAS CLOVERLEAF!

TODD: Another life-sapping submissions hold by Mari! She’s trying to break Inquisition’s spirit!

BAMA: She’s trying to steal his soul in the name of the Black Rainbow… if that subterranean freak even has a hole…

Mari applies increasing torque, twisting Inquisition’s spine against itself… Every pull of the hold is punctuated by her eyes closing and her head tilting back, as if basking in her own magnificence!

Inquisition’s face is stone but his lips peel back to reveal clenched teeth…. His fingertips scratch furiously at the canvas, muscles quivering…

TODD: This could be it! The ropes are too far away for Inq to bre-

…Suddenly, Mari releases the hold!

TODD: …What the?!? I thought Mari had Inq right where she wanted him…

BAMA: Like I said, Mari doesn’t want Inquisition to tap-out. She wants to break him. She wants to OWN his spirit.[/blue]

Marisol grins with mocking, cruel delight, crawling alongside the broken Inquistion… only to sprawl across his chest, wrenching his arm into a…

CROSS ARMBREAKER!

Her free hand flexes, bicep popping, as she smirks to the crowd…

TODD: My word! How dominant is Marisol Vilaro!

…Vilaro’s showboating… infuriates Inquisition…

Inquisition… like a rat in a trap…

His body goes elastic! He slips out! And he grasps a shocked Mari’s wrist in turn!

TODD: What an escape by Inquisition! This one’s not over yet!

Inquisition’s legs kick upward, coil tight, and he whips his weight with ruthless speed—yanking Marisol off-balance…

TORNADO DDT!

TODD: Tornado DDT! From outta nowhere!

BAMA: But can he capitalize? Can the boy from the dark claw his way back to the light?

Inquisition staggers upright, chest heaving, eyes burning with the wild fire of the Forge.

Vilaro… blinking like the mask of dominance has cracked… stumbles into the corner, grabbing the ropes to hold herself up…

Inquisition bares his teeth and lets out a sharp hiss, charging forward with his arms wide, aiming to crush Marisol into the turnbuckles with a savage…

CORNER SPLASH!

…NO!

Marisol’s body snapping into motion at the last heartbeat, slipping sideways, hair whipping behind her!

Inquisition’s chest SMASHES brutally into the pads!

TODD: Once more, the lightning fast Inquisition isn’t used to an opponent that can match his lightning quick reflexes!

BAMA: I don’t know if that freak’s face has a mouth, but if he does, he just ate a heaping helping of turnbuckle pad…

Inquisition’s jaw goes slack, his face twisting with shock as the wind rushes out of him. He reels backward, dizzy, his hiss breaking into a ragged cough, leaning back against the turnbuckle!

Marisol’s lips curl into a venomous smile as she cartwheels into motion, hands hitting the canvas with perfect precision before she springs upward. Her body snaps into the air like a whip…

CRACK! Vilaró Experience! (handspring elbow!)

Inquisition stumbles away from the corner, eyes glassy, arms flailing as though the ground beneath him has vanished.

Marisol doesn’t hesitate. She snarls, grabs him by the head, and latches in a crushing front facelock. Her muscles flex, her jaw clenches, and with a guttural cry she hoists him high—before driving him down with bone-snapping perfection…

VILARÓIZER!

[blue]BAMA: BALLGAME!

She bridges with pristine form, her back arched, teeth bared as the referee dives down.


ONE!



TWO!



TH-REE!

Winner: Marisol Vilaró


[blueTODD: It’s over! Marisol Vilaró just outlasted the Inquisition, and what a war they waged!

BAMA: Say what you will, Todd—freak boy fought like hell itself, but in the end, the devil with the better body won. Praise be to Marisol Vilaró.[/blue]

Marisol rises, still holding her perfect bridge until the last possible second, before breaking and standing tall, arms flexed, every ounce of her dripping confidence broadcast for the world to see.

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XWF RELENTLESS IX
THE MAC DADDY OF ‘EM ALL

WATCH ALL THREE NIGHTS and NEVER feel the need to witness another nano-second of Wrestling again - because the best you will EVER SEE IN YOUR LIFETIME WILL HAPPEN LIVE! ON XWF RELENTLESS — Streaming FREE* only on: XWF99.com!

*Free with a miniscule, but legally, ethically, and morally binding 1,289-month subscription to the XWF X-STREAMing Service™ 
– Requires all 1,289 months of your current subscription to be paid in advance and your next 1,289 month subscription prepaid even before that! – 
*Otherwise it’s $29.99 for all three nights and you. will. like. it.
Did you see the other champion's reflections in Dolly’s glasses? Look again!

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TODD: I don’t know about you, Bama. But I for one am excited-

BAMA: Let me stop you right there, Todderick. You do know about me. You know we’re both excited as hell for the 9th edition of Relentless. It’s three whole nights, our biggest show of the damn year!

TODD: With Dolly Waters and Micheal Graves leading us in as our top champions, and with Sebastian Everett-Bryce holding the briefcase, Charlie Nickles lying in wait… and of course, the rise and emergence of stars like Sarah Wolf and Dickie Watson to account for!

BAMA: This one is going to be huge across the board, Todd. There won’t be one moment of downtime in the entire three-night stretch.

TODD: Perhaps our biggest Relentless yet!



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: Oh sweet Jesus, not this loon again!

Todd: That’s not just any loon, Bama! That’s Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing, and he’s become something of a fan-favorite amongst the I-W-C!

Bama T: The IWC? What the hell is that, some indie mudshow company?!

Todd: I’m not entirely sure, Bama: but Sir Pennyfarthing is adamant that the people love him there!



“Dreams of a Lullaby” plays, and as her music swells, Celestine stumbles onto the stage, dragging a massive canvas behind her. Her body jerks unnaturally as though seized by a spirit, shades of a possession. She begins speed-painting in a frenzy, daubing wild strokes with brushes, bare hands, and even blown snot from her nose. She growls, chants, sometimes laughing, sometimes weeping. By the time she reaches the ring, the canvas is revealed: a horrific foretelling of her opponent mangled, ruined, disfigured. She lays the painting gently against the ring like a tombstone.

Bama T: That’s witchcraft right there!

Todd: It’s Black Magic, for sure!

Bama T: It looks like she’s going to mangle, ruin, and disfigure that loon she’s in there with!

Todd: I’m not sure the odds are high for Lionel to survive this one…

DING! DING! DING!



CELESTINE GALE
- vs -
SIR LIONEL PENNYFARTHING

Singles


As the bell rings, Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing steps back and places his hand atop his chest, as if in shock. He says a few words to the referee about the ritualistic imagery from Celestine’s entrance, but the referee just shrugs his shoulders! Sir Lionel then drops down to his knees as he looks up at the referee with pleading eyes. Lionel clasps his hands together as he begs the referee to call off this match, or to at least prevent Celestine from using any ritualistic magic!

But it’s no use!

The referee just shrugs Pennyfarthing off!

Todd: It looks like Sir Lionel is trying to make some sort of deal with the referee!

Bama T: Deal?! Todd, he’s pleading for his life with the referee right now! I don’t think Sir Lionel wants to be in that ring with the witch!

After the referee rejects his pleas, Sir Lionel has no choice but to stand up and face his foe! As a nervous bead of sweat rolls down Lionel’s face, he starts to look across the ring…only to find that Celestine Gale isn’t there.

Instead, Celestine is right behind Pennyfarthing!

Bama T: Wait, what the hell?! How’d she get across the ring so fast?!

Todd: I swear it’s like she teleported!

Lionel takes a few steps forward towards the center of the canvas, completely unaware of his opponent’s location directly behind him. Celestine follows Lionel one step at a time, her silent presence foreboding a dark future for the Sir. Once Lionel reaches the center of the ring, he looks out at the crowd for help- but the audience is shocked into silence.

As if the members of the crowd were under some sort of hypnosis!

When Lionel finally turns around, he sees Celestine Gale standing directly behind him!

Lionel drops down to his knees and pleads for mercy!

Sir Lionel’s facial gestures make his sorrow and anguish clear to the back of the arena!

Todd: Well, this is starting to get pathetic…

Bama T: What do you want him to do, Todd?!?! Wrestle the witch?! He’s better off begging for her mercy! You can call Lionel Pennyfarthing a lot of names, Todd- but you can’t call him stupid!

Todd: I didn’t call him stupid- I called him pathetic!

Bama T: Well then…you won’t get any argument from me!

As Lionel pleads for mercy from a kneeling position, Celestine looks him up and down with a ponderous expression…as if she were actually considering his pleas.

But that brief consideration ends when Celestine delivers a gliding roundhouse kick with toe-pointed artistry right to Lionel’s face!

Pennyfarthing collapses against the mat in pain, his screams of woe echoing through the arena!

Pennyfarthing starts crawling towards the ropes, desperate for a rope break after just one blow…

But alas, it is not to be!

Celestine leaves her feet, dropping onto Pennyfarthing with a posing elbow drop after freezing mid-air for a second!

Bama T: Witchcraft! That’s witchcraft, I tell you!

Todd: Whatever it is, Bama: it seems to be working!

After the vicious elbow drop to Lionel’s back, Celestine grabs Pennyfarthing’s leg and delivers a Leg-trap surfboard with a back arch!

The crowd stands completely still, remaining silent as a mouse, everyone swaying from side to side- as if transfixed by some sort of hex!

But Celestine Gale doesn’t stop there. As Pennyfarthing regains his senses and starts crawling towards the ropes one more time, Celestine Gale delivers a big boot right between his shoulder blades!

Then, Celestine keeps her boot pressed into Pennyfarthing’s back for an uncomfortable amount of time. She eyes the injured man up and down for nearly a minute with a ritualistic look in her eye.

After Celestine tires of holding Lionel still, she picks her foot up just to deliver a nasty curbstomp right to the back of his skull!

With Lionel’s lights already knocked out, Celestine grabs the man by his neck and lifts him into a standing position without breaking a sweat. Celestine places Lionel into a modified sleeper hold with a swaying rhythm. The microphones near the ring pick up the sound of Celestine singing “Nowhere Over The Rainbow” into Lionel’s ear, like some sort of sick lullaby.

The referee asks Sir Lionel if he wants to tap out, but Lionel doesn’t respond!

Lionel can’t respond, because he’s completely lost consciousness!

The referee has no choice but to call for the bell!

Winner by Technical Knockout - Celestine Gale


As soon as the bell rings, Celestine lets Lionel’s body drop to the mat like a sack of sorry potatoes. Celestine stares down at her defeated foe with cold and calculating eyes. The referee approaches Celestine to raise her hand, but she simply stares into the referee’s soul, causing him to completely freeze in place.

Then, Celestine exits the ring, and walks up the stage. As she walks up the ramp, her body jerks unnaturally as though seized by a spirit, shades of a possession. She growls, chants, sometimes laughing, sometimes weeping as the audience remains frozen in hypnosis.

Todd: What a dominant victory for Celestine Gale here tonight! She completely destroyed Lionel Pennyfarthing, and may in fact have snatched his soul as well! It’s unclear!

Bama T: …..

Todd: Bama?

Bama T: ….

Todd: Oh this isn’t good folks…Bama, are you ok?!

Bama T: ….

Todd: We’ll have to cut away for a few minutes, folks, but we’ll be back soon with more action-packed wrestling!

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Anarchy Tag-Team #1 Contendership

Matthias Syn & Charlie Nickles
- vs -
The Money Titans
Thias Watts & Mr. Oz




THE MONEY TITANS, Oswald and Thias Watts, hit the stage as soon as their entrance music begins playing. The crowd has a mixed reaction to the reunited Titans, with some fans booing the big-men while others cheer for their favorite tag-team. Oz and Thias ignore the fans staged near the ramp, clearly hyper-focused on their impending match. When the Titans reach the ring, they climb into it over the top-rope, then they wait patiently for The Corporation to come meet their makers.

Bama T: And here come three thousand pounds of roided-up rage! THE MONEY TITANS are back, live in action here on XWF Anarchy!

Todd: The Money Titans were a dominant tag-team on Thursday Nights, but after Oswald viciously attacked Thias, many thought that this tag-team dream was dead!

Bama T: But now, they’ve put their differences aside and re-united!

Todd: That’s right, Bama’! And they plan on putting the XWF tag division on notice!



The first drumbeat of a new theme song rumbles through the Jim Norick Arena, shaking the building’s worn-out walls! Fog creeps along the makeshift ramp as strobe lights hit the crowd from above, so below!

“I won’t lieeee, it’s quite tempting- your handouts, and your bones.”

That’s when they appear: the stars of the show! CHARLIE NICKLES and MATTHIAS SYN, flanked by the one and only Dwyane “THE GROK” Johnson!

“I won’t lieeee, they’re quite empty- your promises, and your stones.”

Charlie Nickles steps through the haze of fog first, wearing a black three-piece suit tailored perfectly to his pudgy body. His polished shoes catch on every single strobe light as he makes his way down the ramp. A devious grin spreads across Nickleman's lips as he runs a hand through his slicked-back hair.

“If you sell, they’ll buy! Don’t feel, just sign!”

Just behind him Matthias Syn follows, adjusting his tie as “The Grok” conducts audio-visual surveillance for any rebels in the crowd. “The Grok” quickly identifies Peter Gilmour in the crowd, jamming out to the Maria Brink song, and he immediately calls for security to escort Gilly back to Banishment Island!

“If you sell, they’ll buy! Don’t think, stay blind!

Charlie walks gracefully up the steel steps, entering the ring with a microphone in hand as Matthias Syn slides into the ring under the bottom rope. “The Grok” posts up like a security guard outside the ring, continuing to survey the crowd for any signs of dissidence.

“GIVE ME THE CONTROOOOLLL!

JUST SIGN ON THE DOTTED LIIIIINNEE!”

The crowd jeers, but The Corporation doesn’t flinch. Charlie lifts his microphone to his lips as the entrance music trails off. With Syn still in the ring beside him, Charlie stares directly at The Money Titans.

“Oz, Thias!

Gentlemen…you were told that you would have to fight tonight. You were told that you needed to earn your shot at the Anarchy Tag Team Championships. You were told that you had to battle tooth-and-nail against The Corporation just to get ahead in this business…..but Brothers, trust me when I say: that’s the old way.

The weak way.

The fool’s way.”

Oz and Thias look at each other with a mixture of confusion and bewilderment. They came to the arena tonight prepared for a fight….but what was all this talking about?

“I came here tonight to tell you face-to-face, man-to-man….The Corporation doesn’t have to be your enemy. Not anymore. Now that I’m at the helm, we get to do things differently around here!”

The crowd jeers, but The Money Titans cock their heads with curiosity.

“I am the Acting General Manager of this company! And that means no more backroom deals, no more golden calves! No longer will the fatcats and bigwigs cherry pick their favorites and hand them opportunity after opportunity.

Now, I get to be the one who decides what is earned, what is deserved, and who is handed greatness on a silver platter!

And you, fine gentlemen….are about to be handed greatness.”

Charlie looks back towards Matthias Syn as he gestures to the Money Titans. Syn reaches into his blazer, and pulls out two one-page contracts. Syn crosses the ring, where a skeptical pair of giants hesitantly take a look at the documents.

“And all you have to do is stand beside me. Stand beside Syn. Stand beside The Corporation that made us who we are!

This is your chance to become more than mere mortals. This is your chance to become….

The Corporate Titans!”

The crowd boos as Oz and Thias look shocked by the offer.

“Just sign your names on the dotted line, and you will become #1 Contenders to the Anarchy tag-team championships at Relentless! Guaranteed! Signed, sealed, and delivered courtesy of your Acting General Manager!”

Oswald calls for a microphone from the ring announcer themselves, and yanks it from their hand as they try to deliver it to him. Mic in hand, he then speaks

“Charlie, you and I, we’ve had our differences, haven’t we? You’ve always been a man, to me, that just does whatever the hell he wants. Now? I see that you, like me, have quite the mind for business. Shit, I never envisioned you as a businessman. So I want you to know, that If there’s one thing that Oswald does, if there’s one thing Thias does-”

Both of them speak at the same time in the same mic

“WE STAND ON BIDNESS!”

Oz and Thias sign their names on the dotted line, officially joining The Corporation!

NO CONTEST!

NEW ANARCHY TAG TITLE NUMBER ONE CONTENDER: THE CORPORATE TITANS


“XWF, welcome to the time of Brand Loyalty. To the era of Corporate takeovers. Welcome us, the Corporate Titans, as we demolish our opponents. While I love these boys, Them No Good Bastards, when we take you on and take your titles away? All I can say is that this is what truly is best for business.”

Then Charlie’s gaze drops to the referee, who is trying to intervene and ensure that the match carries on as scheduled. Charlie’s voice darkens, deadly serious as he turns his focus towards the referee.

“And you… I saw you.

You’re working part-time in Pro Wrestling Valor, aren’t you? Working for the competition. The audacity. The nerve. Who’s side are you on in this battle, huh, Mr. Pinstripes?

You are about to learn what happens when you defy the Corporation.

You are about to learn the cost of your disloyalty!”

Syn moves with the precision of a predator, Charlie following. The referee has no chance. Fists, boots, and elbows rain down. After the referee is on the ground, Charlie pulls Syn back- and gestures for The Corporate Titans to finish the job.

Oz steps in with a smile, lifting the referee high into the air! Then, Thais charges in and knees the referee right in the jaw as they’re falling to the mat! Then, Oz catches the referee and finishes them with a Northern Lights Suplex!

The rest of The Corporation just laughs in mockery of the referee’s suffering.

The arena erupts in chaos. The crowd screams, some horrified, some ecstatic. The Corporate Titans stand tall, Charlie and Syn flanking them as “The Grok” slides into the ring for the final frame. The referee lies motionless, The Corporation's unmistakable message written in blood.

Todd: Oh my GOD, I can’t believe it! The Corporation just brutalized the referee!

Bama T: I can’t believe it either, Todd! That referee was pulling double-duty, and selling our trade secrets to Pro Wrestling Valor!

Todd: Are we even sure that’s true?! Can we get a fact checker on that?!

Bama T: No fact checkers needed, baby! The Corporation never lies!

Todd: Someone get that referee some help! We need to take a quick commercial break to get the ref some attention- we’ll be right back with more action after this message from our sponsors!

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TODD: This next match is overstuffed with talent!

BAMA: And intrigue, Toddrick! A feud is brewing between two of these competitors over one of their actions toward the other’s husbands! SPICY! Some Days of Our Lives stuff out here!



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. Half way down, he spreads his hands apart and reaches out both arms in T-Pose as he crouches, sauntering down the rest of the ramp toward the ring.

TODD: The mysterious XXXVI! He’s been dominant on Anarchy as of late… stacking up wins over Frances Marigold *and* Mister Oz! That sort of dominance is what’s secured his spot as the Revolution Title Number One Contender!

BAMA: Certainly impressive, Toddy boy! But with victories come an upgrade in opponents! He’s facing two top-tier talents, one of whom is an XWF LEGEND…

TODD: Atara is certainly wrestling royalty! One of the most beloved competitors to ever grace the blue and black ropes! An-

BAMA: I was talking about Preston Vanderlay Esquire!

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.

…



The honeyed rasp of Atara's voice blares over the facility's PA in unison with those words appearing on the multitude of screens and displays littering the arena.

HELLO DOVES

The crowd pops and gets to their feet shouting in near total unison a single word.

OPA!

Arena lights start to pulse in time with the music and multiple vertical streams of pyro erupt across the front of stage. Strutting with purpose Atara emerges from the back taking spot centerstage atop the ramp. Posing for the camera, a wink and kiss is given to the viewers at home.

TODD: Atara Raven! One of the most talented competitors to grace Anarchy!

BAMA: To Preston’s point, she came up WELL short against Larry Tact!

TODD: But earlier this year, Bama! She pulled off a major victory, derailing the previously undefeated X-Treme champion, Dominic Strife! The fact of the matter is, when Atty has something in her sights, there’s almost no one better. And you better believe Atty has Preston Vanderlay Esquire locked in her sights after he DESTROYED James Raven’s bust and inscription in the XWF Hall of Legends!

Grunge walking to the ringsteps, she climbs and stops at the top to posture again for her adoring public. Hand on her hip, the Grecian moves to the middle of the apron to blows a final kiss to the camera and enters the ring through the middle rope.

…



“Paper Planes” by M.I.A. hits the speakers. The arena blacks out completely as a cold robotic voice echoes: “Please stand by for a priority broadcast from the office of Preston Vanderlay Esquire… Wrestling’s Wealthiest Winner.”

A massive golden “V” lights up on the titantron. Suddenly, the curtain parts, not for Preston, but for two identically dressed male attendants in tuxedos, who roll out an absurdly long red carpet lined with gold trim, leading all the way to ringside. They are followed by a fog machine team in full uniform, blasting synthetic mist infused with a $700 designer cologne.

The beat drops, and the words “Take your money” pulse with the lights, right as a custom-built gold-plated luxury mobility throne rises from beneath the stage. Reclining in it like a Roman emperor is Preston Vanderlay Esquire, draped in a white silk trench coat with golden lapels, his sunglasses gleaming with his initials etched on them.

He’s not alone. Flanking him on each side in slow, synchronized choreography are his disciples Briggs Wellington, Dashford Luxe, and Regan Vale.

Briggs Wellington stomps down first, arms crossed, cracking his neck, dressed in an emerald suit-vest over tactical gear. Dashford Luxe flips onto the ramp out of nowhere, striking a pose midair before moonwalking partway down like he’s dancing through stock options. Regan Vale walks while cracking knuckles that are clad in black leather gloves. Her eyes are wild and yearning.

As Preston’s throne glides forward on a hidden track, attendants throw faux stock certificates and shredded cease-and-desist orders into the crowd like confetti. Gold sparks rain from the ceiling while a voiceover plays: “Introducing the undisputed architect of all victory… Wrestling’s one true trust fund tactician… PRESTON. VANDERLAY. ESQUIRE.”

BAMA: Here he is! The undefeated XWF Legend! Preston Vanderlay Esquire!

TODD: He wrestled one match! And HE didn’t even actually compete! Regan Vale narrowly defeated ‘Midnight’ Michael Saint, after interference from PVE!

BAMA: The official recordbooks says, Preston Vanderlay Esquire, 1-0! And he’s in the Hall of Legends!

TODD: …Very controversially, after somewhat mysterious, shady dealings with our piece-of-shit General Manager Jimmy Dumbfuck Stars… Preston Vanderly Esquire not only installed his own bust in the Hall of Legends, but destroyed two busts to do it! Lee Stone AND “The People’s GOAT” James Raven… Atara’s husband and multi-time Universal champion! Atty’s made it very, very clear… she plans on taking a pound of flesh for every pound of marble resembling her husband that PVE destroyed!

At ringside, a plush ottoman step unit is rolled into place. Preston stands, slowly removes his jacket, and hands it to an assistant like it’s a crown jewel. His disciples form a loose triangle behind him as he ascends the stairs one step at a time, pausing on the apron to scan the crowd with visible disdain.

Inside the ropes, Dashford lounges in the corner like a smug hype man, Briggs looms with arms raised and flexed, and Regan paces slowly in a circle like a predator. Preston raises one hand to his temple, smiles like he just closed a billion-dollar deal, and steps to the center as fireworks go off indoors.

After a few more seconds of the crowd booing the fuck out of him, Preston activates his Freebird Rule clause and selects one of his three student-diciples to fight for him.

…

This time going with…

Dashford Luxe!

TODD: Dashford Luxe! Definitely the flashiest of PVE’s menagerie of freebird talent! What do you think went into Preston’s decision to send Luxe against Raven and XXXVI?

BAMA: This one’s already in the bag, Toddrick! Mister Vanderlay Esquire is sending in the man that’ll win with the most style points!

…Luxe rolls into the ring, flexing an arm and winking at Atty…

…Atara does not take her eyes from PVE, who is surrounded on both sides by Regan and Briggs…

The official signals to the timekeeper!

DING DING!



Atara Raven
- vs -
Preston Vanderlay Esquire
- vs -
(Revolution #1 Contender)
XXXVI

Triple Threat Match


The moment the bell rings, Atty storms forward… her body coiled to explode…

Toward the ropes at Preston!

TODD: Oh my! It looks like Atty is more interest in taking this scrap to Preston than the man Preston selected to face her!

BAMA: Brilliant! That’s Preston’s plan paying dividends! Mind games! Taking his opponent off their game!

TODD: I think that only works if Preston ISN’T at rest of getting his head kicked off, Bama!

Atty scrambles for the ropes, almost instinctively, Briggs and Regan move up to block Atty with their bodies… Preston grins from behind the safety of his hired muscle, waving over the top of their heads.

As this goes on between Atty and Preston… XXXVI tilts their masked head, sensing Atara’s split focus. Their posture lowers into a stalking crouch…

TODD: It looks like XXXVI smells Atty’s focus is off the match… and senses the time to strike is now!

BAMA: Preston may have insulted them both, but there’s no allies in a triple threat match!

Atara shouts several sharp Greek curses, trying to climb through the ropes to att-

WHAM!

With a sudden burst of motion, XXXVI strikes from the side, hammering Atara with a stinging…

CHOP BLOCK TO THE BACK OF THE KNEE!

TODD: ooooof, ugly attack to Atty’s leg!

BAMA: As ugly as it is effective, Toddrick!
Atara winces, her body buckling, hand clutching her leg as she grimaces…

XXXVI scoops her up by the scruff of the neck, looking for a front facelock… When Atty throw his arms down, breaking the lock… And breaks out a series of right jabs, straight to XXXVI’s jaw!

TODD: Atty firing back with fiery fists! That Pankration, greek boxing style rocking XXXVI around the ring!

BAMA: Crazy move by XXXVI! Even I’d know better than to get between Atty and Preston tonight!
Dashford Luxe, meanwhile, leans casually in the corner, smirking with a self-satisfied tilt of the head. He stretches lazily across the turnbuckles, arms out wide, soaking in the scene as though watching theater from the best seat in the house.

TODD: Dashford Luxe taking this opportunity to sit back and work on his tan under XWF’s stage lights!

BAMA: Why throw yourself in the feeling out scrap? Let both of the people you have to beat tire each other out scrapping! Dashford is a GENIUS! Which by extension, makes Preston a BIGGER GENIUS for picking him!

XXXVI eventually raises his arms, blocking the blows rocking his jaw… Getting backed into the ropes
Atara’s fury drives her! With an explosive heave of emotion and muscle, she Irish whips XXXVI across the ring…

Wait! No! She rotates the whip and drives him from the center of the ring…

Toward Dashford Luxe’s corner!

TODD: Hell hath no fury like Atara Raven! And she’s using XXXVI as a battering ram to break down the defenses around Preston Vanderlay Esquire!

Luxe’s eyes widen as a masked man is suddenly hurtling towards him… He’s caught off-guard!

WHAM!

XXXVI’s back collides with Dashford Luxe in the corner.

Dashford’s smug grin falters, leaning back against the turnbuckle! XXXVI rebounds off Luxe, staggering backwards toward the center of the ri-

WHAM! From behind, Atty unleashes a…

SHOTGUN DROPKICK! Raven blasts XXXVI back into the corner! And Luxe gets blasted by XXXVI once more, collapsing onto the mat beside the corner!

TODD: Atara is STEAM-ROLLING the competition right now!

BAMA: …Just a little rope-a-dope, Toddy! Dashford’s letting Atty tire herself out! We’ll catch ‘em in the next half!

Luxe shakes off cobwebs, scooping himself off the mat… at the same time, XXXVI does the same…
The moment they meet eyes, XXXVI grabs Luxe’s shoulders and springs off the mat, leaping onto Luxe, seeking a…

HURRICANRANA!

…

But Luxe resists, by grabbing the ropes!

BAMA: High IQ play by Dashford Luxe! He’s done getting pummeled and he’s ready to turn this one around!

XXXVI is in no man’s land now… Luxe pops XXXVI off his shoulder! XXXVI lands on his feet…

Luxe latches around XXXVI’s breastbone, standing switches, spinning XXXVI toward facing the ring’s center… Aaaaaaand…

BEAUTIFUL T-BONE SUPLEX! XXXVI goes flying through the air, colliding like a heap on his head and shoulders!

Dashford kips up, brushing invisible dust off his hands with a cocky flourish, his smirk sliding back into place as if the danger had never existed.

Preston claps approvingly from the floor, his cufflinks glinting, patting Briggs and Regan to get behind him, so he can maximize his camera time…. PVE points at Dashford, shouting praise, his arrogant grin wide enough to draw the crowd’s boos!

BAMA: That’s what I’m talking about, baby! Poetry in motion! As exquisite as it is dominant! That’s PVE in action!

TODD: HE’S NOT EVEN IN ACTION, BAMA! PVE has been standing outside the ring this whole match! Where he always is!

…From behind, Atara sizes up an opportunity… She sprints toward the ropes. Dashford turns toward his employer, basking in the glow of approval…

But from behind, Preston starts shouting at him to watch out!

Dashford spins around as Atty, fury etched in every fiber of her face, spears herself toward him!

TODD: Atty’s on the warpath! And Dashford is directly in her way!

As Atty charges in, shoulder first…

Dashford pivots into a cartwheel on instinct, sliding out of the way with a smug flick of his hair! PVE breathes a sigh of relief, delivering a small gasp!

…Wait! Atty’s still going!

TOWARD PVE!

Raven’s body sails through the ropes, hair streaming behind her!

Preston’s smug clapping turns to horror! Briggs and Regan shift in alarm, going to cover their boss…

TOO LATE! SUICIDE DIVE SPEAR THROUGH ALL THREE!

TODD: YES! ATARA RAVEN JUST TOOK OUT PRESTON VANDERLAY ESQUIRE AND HIS ENTIRE ENTOURAGE!

BAMA: That’s assault! That’s a guaranteed future lawsuit! You can’t touch the Architect of Victory like that!

PVE and his hired hands explode in different directions, Atara obliterating them! Her eyes flare with vengeance as she raises an arm to the crowd!

OPA!

OPAAAAAAA! The crowd calls back!

Dashford Luxe spins around, his smirk wiped clean, eyes darting in panic as he sees Preston sprawled on the outside, surrounded by wreckage. He bolts for the ropes, arms pumping as instinct drives him to his employer’s aid…

…But XXXVI’s arms suddenly snap around Luxe’s waist from behind. Dashford’s eyes go wide, he throws a wild elbow!

XXXVI ducks! Luxe’s arms flailing as he’s ripped off his feet and hurled back with a thunderous…

BELLY-TO-BELLY SUPLEX!

Dashford’s body arches and he collapses to the mat, clutching his neck as XXXVI folds into the cover, shoulders pressed tight.

TODD: What a move by XXXVI! And all of a sudden, PVE looks in trouble! Both his hired representative and himself! Could this be PVE’s first loss?

BAMA: No! This can’t count! How can you consider it a loss for PVE when he isn’t even getting pinned!

TODD: That’s how his freebird contract works, Bama!

BAMA: …KICK OUT, DASHFORD!

XXXVI rolls into a cover…

ONE!

TWO!

THR-NO!

Luxe jerks his shoulder free, eyes squeezed shut, his chest heaving as relief washes over his face.

XXXVI scrambles back to a vertical base, looking to resume the attack… But Dashford latches onto the ropes, coughing and clutching his back. The official breaks up the action, giving Luxe a five-count to breathe!

TODD: Another bit of technical prowess on display from Dashford Luxe inside the ring… Meanwhile outside, PVE looks like he’s in trouble at the hands of Mrs. James Raven!

Indeed, outside, Preston Vanderlay claws at the floor, suit wrinkled, eyes wide with sheer indignation… He barks out, directing traffic, demanding Briggs or Regan come help him up…

A hand grasps Preston’s… He’s lifted back onto his feet.

…And face-to-face with Atara Raven.

PVE’s face goes white with fear as Raven grins sadistically.

TODD: Think PVE is regretting that unflattering Atara statue yet, Bama?

PVE… straightens his tie…

And makes a break for it! Trying to run!

…But Atara’s reflexes are too fast! She grabs PVE by the ankle, PVE eats pad outside the ring!

TODD: Atty’s about to PUNISH Preston!

Raven drags PVE across the ringside mats, her lips curled into a furious snarl. Preston flails, hands clawing at the padded concrete, cufflinks glinting as his cries grow shrill, but Atara’s rage carries him inexorably toward the timekeeper’s chair.

Preston kicks at her hands, briefly breaking her grip! But Atara seizes PVE by his collar… and points to the crowd…

TODD: Oh my! I think Atty’s planning on tossing Preston over the railing and into the first row!

BAMA: Into commonfolk!?! Everyone in this arena combined doesn’t have PVE’s net worth OR business acumen!

TODD: Well, they’re about to up close and personal with the supposed “XWF Legend”!

Preston’s face contorts into sheer horror, his head shakes back and forth, pupils shrinking in terror at the thought of mingling with the masses!

Atty smiles with vengeful glee, as she cups an ear for the crowd who scream for PVE to come join them…

As Atara milks the moment, by the ringpost outside, Regan Vale begins to stir, pushing up onto her knees!

Atara goes to spin, ready to launch Preston!

…But Regan dives to break up the toss! She launches herself forward with a Lou Thesz press, crashing into Atara, pinning her shoulders against the padding outside!

TODD: Aw nuts! Regan Vale makes the save, narrowly sparing her employer the fate of briefly being in contact with the XWF Universe!

BAMA: THANK GOD FOR REGAN VALE!

Both women tumble to the floor, fists flying. Atara’s eyes narrow in sharp focus, her lips pulling back in a battle-snarl as she drives stiff pankration strikes into Regan’s ribs and face, the precision of her heritage cutting through the chaos. Regan reels, arms flailing defensively, but her grit refuses to let her fold, lobbing blows back at Raven’s ribs, trying to slow the Greek Goddess down!

…Meanwhile, Preston, near the timekeeper’s table, straightening his tie with trembling fingers, walking back toward the ring…

Briggs by the barricade shakes off cobwebs, still rocked by Atara’s suicide dive! PVE snaps his fingers, demanding his employee rise!

TODD: PVE taking this opportunity where Atara is occupied to try and make moves!

BAMA: Time is money after all!

Briggs groggily rises, as PVE whispers into his ear with venomous urgency. Briggs nods once, expression empty, before side-stepping up to the apron…

Inside, XXXVI has been working Dashford with a series on grounded strikes and submissions, holding him in an extended Romero special, as Luxe narrowly hooks an ankle on the bottom rope!

TODD: Aphrodite Incarnate, Atara Raven, may be dominating the outside the ring… but inside, XXXVI might be making the moves to steal a huge victory! A win tonight would provide incredible momentum for the Revolution Title #1 contender as Relentless looms!

XXXVI scoops Luxe by the scruff of the neck, and shoves him back against the corner!

“Alphabet Boy” as PVE dubbed him, executes a…

SLINGSHOT IRISH WHIP!

Dashford’s is HUCKED across the ring, spine SMACKING off the turnbuckle pads, his body staggering back, arms limp at his sides as his eyes glaze over!

TODD: Oooof, major damage! XXXVI is in total control!

XXXVI’s body coils like a serpent, seizing the moment. They snake behind Luxe, wrap their arms around Luxe’s neck, locking him into a…

THIRD EYE BLIND! (dragon sleeper!)

TODD: This could be it! XXXVI has Luxe, center of the ring!

Dashford flails, panic etched into every frantic movement, his mouth open in a silent cry as XXXVI contorts him backward, dragging him to the canvas… Luxe keeps his legs stiff as he whips his body back and forth, trying to break XXXVI’s grip!

TODD: Luxe, the wiley veteran, knows how critical it is to avoid being taken to the mat in a Dragon Sleeper! But XXXVI has it LOCKED IN!

Suddenly, from the outside, Preston rockets onto the apron, his face red with fury. He points furiously at the brawl outside between Atara and Regan, as the two women roll, wildly punching and jockeying for control!

BAMA: PVE, concerned for his employee! Pleading with the official to restore some order!

The referee spins to the outside where Atara and Regan claw at one another, attention stolen.

That’s the moment Briggs Wellington slides into the ring like a shadow, his face still blank but his massive hands clenching into fists. He looms behind XXXVI…

TODD: …No! Subterfuge is afoot!

XXXVI’s body trembles with exertion as they wrench back on the dragon sleeper, unaware of the danger… Luxe’s legs begin to soften under him… XXXVI’s about to kick out Dashford’s legs and drag him to the mat!

When Briggs’ lunges, scooping XXXVI up by the scruff of their neck. With raw, ruthless force, he lifts and slams XXXVI face-first into the mat!

TODD: Dammit! Once more, PVE not only has to make up completely new rules to compete, he then has to break the existing ones!

BAMA: You wanna architect victories? You gotta break a few rules… And XXXVI’s face! Briggs has done just that! Which means Preston has done just that!

The masked fighter sprawls, body twitching in pain as Briggs slips back out, expression as unreadable as ever. Preston drops from the apron with a smug smirk, dusting his hands, barking at the official to keep his eyes IN the ring!

Dashford, freed from the hold, staggers to his feet, gasping for air, his face pale with relief. His expression hardens as he seizes XXXVI by the head, dragging him upright with venom.

TODD: Dammit, no, please, not again!

“SELL!” Shouts Dashford as he twists into a…

LIQUIDATION EVENT! (Cross Rhodes)!

XXXVI crumples to the canvas, motionless.

[blue]BAMA: Another victory for the Undefeated XWF Legend, Preston Vanderlay Esquire!

TODD: Not if Atara has anything to say about!

Outside the ring, Atara rises to a vertical base over Regan and…

BOOTS her in the gut! Regan cradles her stomach…

Atara spins, looking to resume the attack on Preston… But spots Dashford crawling into a cover!

She goes to roll under the bottom rope, rage written across every line of her face…

1!

…NO! Regan, bloodied lip curling into a desperate snarl, lunges again, clutching Atara’s ankle in a vice grip under the bottom rope.

2!

Atara thrashes, her fingers clawing at the mat, her eyes wild with anguish…

TODD: No! Not like this!

THREE!

WINNER: PRESTON VANDERLAY ESQUIRE!


BAMA: Yes like this, Todd! The system works!

The bell rings. Dashford Luxe sits up with a triumphant, exhausted smirk, brushing his hair back with a cocky flourish, quickly rolling to the outside where PVE is rushing him up the ramp!

Atara goes to kick Regan off… but she sprints past, around the ring to join PVE as the foursome hightail it, taunting the competitors in the ring as they go!

TODD: Dashford Luxe STEALS it, thanks to Preston Vanderlay’s army of cronies! Atara and XXXVI were robbed tonight!

BAMA: Robbed? No, Todd. That’s called leveraging human capital. Preston Vanderlay remains…

TODD: Don’t say it…

BAMA: An UNDEFEATED! XWF! LEGEND!

[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: The vibes are absolutely electric for this one, Bama!

BAMA: You ain’ lyin’, Toddy baby! In one corner, we have a seemingly undefeatable Anarchy champion… In the other, we have the skyrocketing Universal champion, who has been un-TOUCHABLE in recent weeks!

TODD: Both aligned by the Revolution’s cause! Tonight, they go head-to-head!

Over the course of the show, a larger and larger crowd has gathered around the rubble of the stadium….a crowd mirroring the likes of MAYDAY!

TODD: We tried to hold the crowd just to just ticket purchasers, Bama! But this crowd has slowly swelled over the course of this absolutely electric show!

BAMA: Kinda hard to keep anyone out when there’s no damn walls or door to keep ‘em out, Todd!

TODD: Somehow, I don’t think either of these revolutionaries would have it any other way!

Ring announcer: Ladies and gentlemen… please welcome to ringside, the special enforcer for this contest: XWF Legend… CENTURION!!!!!!



TODD: It’s been, what? Nearly a YEAR since we last saw Centurion on XWF television?

BAMA T: In a match against Madison Dyson! Cent’s career’s lasted longer than some historical empires at this point!

TODD: Centurion is a three-time Anarchy champion, a former UGWC World Heavyweight Champion and one of the most respected legends to ever grace the XWF!

BAMA: I ain’t the biggest Cent fan, but I gotta admit it, Anarchy feels even more like Anarchy with Andy Cortinovis in the building!

The famously grumpy Cent turns it on long enough to smile and wave to the crowd waving adoration and love down upon him, before locking back into his character as this match’s cooler.

TODD: It’ll be interesting to see what role Centurion plays in this match! He and Dolly have clashed many-a-time throughout their careers… but he has a special place in his heart for how much he DESPISES Micheal Graves!

BAMA: Yeah, but that’s Micheal Graves, not ‘Micheal Graves’!

TODD: One, there was zero inflection change between your two Graveses… Two, I don’t think Cent knows the difference!

The camera cuts to Pryce position… where ‘Graves’ stretches his arm as his entourage, the Students of Gravy and Irwin, Mark Flynn’s #1 fan, tune their instruments…

Peter Parkour does vocal warm-ups.

Irwin tunes his banjo.

Miss Furry…

…Well, she, like… she holds her triangle at different angles, as if trying to capture the perfect angle at which one could strike a triangle!

TODD: Does she even actually hit that thing during the song?

…’Graves’ rotates his neck in a circle…

When his eyes focus on something off-camera!

…

[Image: 1000016643.png?ex=68a9c269&is=68a870e9&h...b48702cda7]

XWF UNIVERSAL CHAMPION DOLLY WATERS!

TODD: Oh my! Could we be seeing another Shark-Nickles situation?!? Is this match gonna pop off outside the ring? ‘Graves’ had some… critiques about Dolly’s leadership decisions heading the Revolution!

BAMA: That’s putting it mildly, Toddy! ‘Graves’ implied she was leading the Revolution on a path of destruction by tolerating Black Rainbow.

TODD: Tensions could be high here!

…’Graves’ stares Dolly in the eye, icy in demeanor. ‘Graves’’s crew stop tuning their instruments and step up beside him.

…Well, okay, slightly behind him.

…

For what feels like an eternity, but is really only a few seconds, Waters and ‘Graves’ stare, as if waiting for the other to flinch.

TODD: So much history between these two… Literally years of trauma, violence, and traumatic violence between ‘Graves’ and Waters!

…

Finally, Dolly moves first.

Taking her arm…

…

And raising her fist in the air.

…The crowd pops for the Revolution!

REV-O-LU-TION! *clap clap clapclapclap*

REV-O-LU-TION! *clap clap clapclapclap*

‘Graves’ examines her gesture, icily.

The chant dies down…

…

‘Graves’ raises his fist across from her.

His crew joins in raising their fist.

The crowd goes electric!

REV-O-LU-TION! *clap clap clapclapclap*

REV-O-LU-TION! *clap clap clapclapclap*

TODD: …Well, if you were afraid the Revolution would schism (pardon the pun…), it looks as if they remain united!

BAMA: For now, Toddy, for now! The ring has a funny way of making enemies friends… and making friends enemies! And no one’s more hyper-competitive in the squared circle than these two competitors!

‘Graves’ and Dolly nod at each other… As ‘Graves’ exits Pryce position first…

Ring announcer: The following contest is for ONE FALL!!!!!!

Suddenly, there’s the strum of a banjo heard from off-stage…



Through the apron, bursts “Micheal Graves” (conceivably), Anarchy champion, sporting the “Dark Warrior” mask upon his face, and the Anarchy championship belt on his shoulder.

TODD: There he is! As of today, the Anarchy champion for three-hundred-thirty consecutive days! Officially, THE longest title reign in the XWF’s modern era! He’s held it almost FOUR months longer than the next longest Anarchy championship reign! ‘The Dark Warrior’ Micheal Graves!

BAMA: And that number ain’t propped up, Toddrick! According to my notes…

TODD: Bama, those are MY notes, you’re looking over my shoulde-

BAMA: *kerAGH ahem ahem* According to MY RESEARCH… Graves is also the defending-est champion in Anarchy history, having just passed EDWARD! SEVEN Anarchy title defenses since he first obtained the belt in late September!

TODD: …*sigh* that is true, Bama! This all started September 8th, 2024, when ‘Graves’ led the students of Gravy to a shocking upset victory over then-current Anarchy champion Madison Dyson and Misty Waters… ‘Graves’ is literally one week short of a PERFECT Anarchy calendar year!

BAMA: But I can’t imagine a bigger challenge to stand his way than the reigning Universal champion!

As the banjo strings are plucked, ‘Graves’ strolls down the ramp… As an entourage follows him!

Ring announcer: Introducing first! He is your REIGNING ANARCHY CHAMPION! THE DARK WARRIOR! MICHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAL GRAAAAAAAAAAVES!

…

The ring announcer double-checks her intro card.

”...Allegedly!”

Irwin, Mark Flynn’s #1 fan is plucking the banjo, playing the folk song…

Behind *him* are the Students of Gravy.

Miss Furry paws at a triangle, which isn’t plugged into anything…

While Peter Parkor brings up the rear, holding a microphone…

Peter raises the mask over his lips and lifts the mic.

♫ You may think that you’re neutral ♫
♫  There are no neutrals though ♫
♫ You’re either with the wrestlers ♫
♫ Or a pawn of the CEOs ♫

The fans join in, knowing the chorus by heart…

WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON? WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON?

‘Graves’ continues to walk down the ramp to the beat, staring at the challenger in the ring… as the entourage behind him plays…

♫ The Boss wants us divided ♫
♫  He don’t want this song sung ♫
♫ But us wrestlers, we fight until ♫
♫ That final bell is rung  ♫

TODD: Another pro-labor spiritual from the Students of Gravy!

BAMA: How’s he about to twist it on Dolly, though?

♫ Black Rainbow’s forces growing ♫
♫  Ev’ry day, there’s one more ♫
♫ They want you feelin’ hopeless ♫
♫ Reviles us to our core ♫

WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON? WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON?

TODD: …Mmmm! Calling out the Black Rainbow itself, Bama!

BAMA: Questionable wisdom from the usually pragmatic ‘Graves’, Toddrick! Ask Peter Principle how calling out Black Rainbow worked for him… He’ll try to tell you with bell dings!

…Finally, finishing his slow, deliberate march, ‘Graves’ enters the ring and lifts the belt over his head.

♫ Maræth can’t snuff the Union’s light ♫
♫ The workers are no joke ♫
♫ Try to eat our dreams, Yelena ♫
♫ See how we’ll make you CHOKE ♫

WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON? WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON?

Irwin finishes with a little banjo solo…

Before humbly sliding his instrument behind his back…

TODD: ‘Graves’ sending a message straight to Black Rainbow! And I can see why! Three Black Rainbow members on Anarchy between Marisol Vilaro, PVE, and Celestine Gale! And they’ve each been absolutely dominant in recent weeks!

BAMA: I’d be reeeeeeeal careful if I were ‘Graves’! He’s the longest-reigning Anarchy champion, but he just painted a big colorful target on his back that I’m sure Black Rainbow would love to cover in goo!

TODD: He can worry about that later, Bama! Right now, he’s got the Universal champion ahead of him, on possibly the hottest hot streak of her career!

The entourage heads back up the ramp, as ‘Graves’ hands the Anarchy title off to the official, never taking his eyes off the ramp.



The lights go dark!

Spotlights flock to the entrance ramp!


The fans pop as the X-Tron blares…







…ODE TO JOY!

The stadium spotlights rush up toward the ceiling as Dolly Waters appears under the XTron. She marches to the beat of Ode To Joy, the crowd roaring, her gaze set squarely on the squared circle. She climbs through the ropes and takes the center of the ring, raising a single fist into the air.

TODD: Dolly Waters has been on the hottest streak of her career! She beat Charlie Nickles for the Universal title! She pulled off a win over the RED HOT, Dickie Watson!

BAMA: She’s been un-touch-able, Toddrick! Plain and simple! She’s been pumpin’ out the best work of her career!

TODD: But this is among the ultimate tests the XWF has to offer! Can Dolly keep the streak going and pull off a win over ‘Micheal Graves’ ON ANARCHY!

BAMA: That’s something no one’s been able to do in NEARLY A YEAR, TODD!

…The two meet in the center of the ring!


TODD: here they are, Bama… Finally! The crowning jewels of our industry today. The Universal Champion. The Anarchy Champion…

BAMA: you’re right, baby! But we’ve seen this one a time or two already. ‘Graves’ has fended off any, and all challenges that have been presented to him over the last year in Anarchy. He’s our champion!

TODD: It’s true, partner, but this one feels… different. Dolly Waters is very much EVERYONE’S champion. And while she and Graves are aligned in their battle for a greater good, the differences in their approaches could not be more stark. And yet tonight they do battle in the name of their union.[/blue]

The official signals to the timekeeper!

DING DING!



CO-MAIN

Dolly Waters ©
- vs -
"Allegedly" Micheal Graves ©

Plus - XWF Legend Centurion will be sitting at ringside as the timekeeper and enforcer (as needed)!

Non-Title Singles w/Special Guest


The moment the bell rings, both competitors leave their corners, circling the ring, looking to lock up…

TODD: Starting with a little catch-as-catch-can, looks like!

BAMA: ‘Graves’’ bread-and-butter… Dolly’s gonna have to dig deep to match ‘Graves’s technical prowess…

Dolly leads with the right side, advancing with her left foot… ‘Graves’ advances like he’s ready to lock-up…

Before switching to southpaw, extending his left hand, leading with the right foot…

TODD: ‘Graves’ clearly very intentional… trying to start things off with both he and Dolly wrestling on their non-dominant sides…

BAMA: Know why he’s doing it, Toddy? IT forces Dolly to lead with that knee! The one Grok almost blew out its socket!

TODD: Ohhhhh, you might be right, Bama!

…Dolly stretches out that right knee of hers… and switches hands, offering her left… ‘Graves’ advances…

The two lockup!

TODD: Here we go! Dolly - vs - ‘Graves’!

Dolly and ‘Graves’ jockey for position, circling around the ring…

‘Graves’ rotates, taking Dolly by the side, securing her in a side headlock!

Dolly tries to snake through, grasping ‘Graves’ wrist! She transitions to a hammerlock, twisting ‘Graves’ arm against his back…

In a flash, ‘Graves’ drops to one knee, sending Dolly up and over his shoulder! Fireman’s carry!

…Nope! Dolly rolls through landing on her feet!

TODD: Remarkable sequence! This two going tit-for-tat in the early-going, Dolly meeting ‘Graves’ every step of the way!

The two circle, still feeling each other out…

They lock up again!

…This time, Dolly secures a side headlock on ‘Graves’…

When ‘Graves’ drops to the mat… and clips Dolly with the shoulder to that right knee! Dolly hits the mat!

TODD: Oh my! For being Dolly’s ally, ‘Graves’ seems keen to target that right knee every chance he can!

BAMA: ‘Graves’ IS Dolly’s ally! He knows he’s doing her no favors by sparing that knee! Every opponent’s going to attack it, he knows Dolly’s gotta prep to defend attacks to it and counter out on it!

As Dolly’s back hits the mat, ‘Graves’ latches his mitts around Dolly’s ankle, securing a standing leg lock, twisting Dolly’s knee against the mat!

TODD: Oh my… ‘Graves’ going for a very early submission here!

Dolly’s face contorts with pain…

‘Graves’ grits his teeth… applying additional torque, trying to turn Dolly onto her front, twisting her knee like a pretzel…

Dolly…

Dolly bridges back!

And twists! Dragonscrew from the mat!

…’Graves’ cartwheels through, remaining on his feet! ‘Graves’ bounces off the ropes looking to take advantage of Waters being grounded… but Dolly kips up back to her feet!

…’Graves’ puts on the brakes as the crowd cheers!

TODD: Phew! Dolly pulls off an impressive escape! A lesser opponent, ‘Graves’ would have had the victory right there!

BAMA: Dolly’s remarkable, but ‘Graves’ might be the technical wrestling GOAT… if she wants to stay in this, she’s gotta drop the respectful act and make ‘Graves’ wrestle her game, rather than letting ‘Graves’ make her wrestle his.

The two circle once more… ‘Graves’ picks up the pace circling, grapevining his feet clockwise around the ring..,

TODD: …Mmm, ‘Graves’ forcing Dolly to circle in a direction that requires her injured right leg to lead, right, Bama?

BAMA: Now you’re getting it, Toddy baby!

Dolly manages to keep ‘Graves’ pace, circling… They both lock-up for the third time…

‘Graves’ snaps Dolly’s head to his waist, a deeeeep side headlock!

TODD: ‘Graves’ wins another exchange here…

…Dolly drags her feet back to the ropes… and shoots ‘Graves’ off to the opposite side!

‘Graves’ shoots across the ropes! Dolly goes for a…

LARIAT!

…But ‘Graves’ ducks under, and on the way past, latches Dolly in a standing sleeper hold!

TODD: Another counter by ‘Graves’!

BAMA: He’s keeping Dolly from hitting second gear, trying to keep her grounded and on the back foot!

Dolly wriggles, as ‘Graves’ tries to latch on a rear choke! Dolly slips around the side, latches ‘Graves’ in a waistlock! Dolly sends ‘Graves’ up and over!

Back Suplex!

…But ‘Graves’ lands on his feet! And, as Dolly rises from the suplex, immediately latches on another rear choke!

The crowd applauds the sequence, as ‘Graves’ waves a finger in front of Dolly’s face…

…’Graves’ suddenly spins his body, dragging Dolly to the mat! Side headlock takedown!

TODD: Uh oh! Mat wrestling is ‘Graves’’s best spot to be in!

BAMA: He knows a couple hundred ways to lock in that Fujiwara armbar of his! I believe ‘Graves’ could make a man tap out while locked in a straight jacket and handcuffs!

‘Graves’ latches his arm around Dolly’s skull, before trying to secure control of her wrist!

…But Dolly twists out, rotates her hips, and reaches her feet! Securing ‘Graves in a wristlock!

…And suddenly, she forces her weight down on his back! Twisting his arm up!

The crowd buzzes in disbelief!

TODD: There’s no way! Is Dolly going for a Fujiwara on ‘Graves’!

BAMA: Audacious! Unthinkable!

…’Graves’s eyes widen in surprise as Dolly twists his arm deeper against his back, trying to force the Anarchy champ face-first to the mat…

…Suddenly, ‘Graves’’s free hand reaches out and yanks Dolly’s ankle! Takedown!

…Nope! Dolly releases her grip and somersaults forward!

The crowd leaps to their feet, impressed by another even exchange between the two…

TODD: Wow! We came surprisingly close to seeing Dolly lock the Fujiwara armbar in on its most fervent practitioner!

BAMA: And nothing’s stopping her from trying it again!

…As the crowd cheers, Dolly pinches her fingers together at ‘Graves’, as if telling him how close she just came to having him dead to rights…

…The gravely-serious ‘Graves’... allows himself a half-smile and a respectful clap, acknowledging his opponent…

DOLLY! DOLLY! DOLLY screams the crowd…

‘Graves’ shakes his arms forward, loosening the muscles as Dolly nods and moves back in. The two engage in a grapple, center of the mat—-

TODD: This isn’t really Dolly’s game here, Bama I’m not sure what she’s think- - -OH!

Dolly fakes through the tie-up, and slithers around ‘Graves’ again, SPINNING HEEL KICK TO THE SPINE!

NO!

BAMA: ‘Graves’ as nimble as ever here! He’s turned and caught Waters by the ankle!

Dolly is hopping on that bad right-leg, as ‘Graves’ has ahold of the left— now it’s him wagging a finger at Dolly. He goes for a dragon screw, but as soon as he pulls, Waters leaps in the air with an ENZIGURI!

That ‘Graves’ ducks under!

Waters falls to the mat, and ‘Graves’, without a single beat, hooks that right leg, and locks in a stepover toehold face lock!

But before he’s able to cinch it in fully, Dolly rolls him! ‘Graves’ is on his back, but his hands are still grasped together, locking his forearm under Dolly’s chin. She tries breaking free, but ‘Graves’ is about to roll her over until—-

BAMA: OH BABY! WHAT A COUNTER!

Dolly rolls back, sacrificing a nasty wrench to her neck from ‘Graves’. Both of their legs kicking around, but as soon as Dolly’s toes touch the mat again, she puts ‘Graves’ into a reverse face lock,  his back on the mat still, he immediately thrusts a shoulder up and the two other gator roll for a few revolutions across the canvas before stopping right at the ropes. They each disengage and crawl up to their knees away from one another.

They exchange nods again, but the smiles seem a little fainter. More of a trade of acknowledgments of what’s next to come…

A running discus elbow from Waters!

That ‘Graves’ side steps and… ATOMIC DROP!

His knee blasts into her lower discs!

Dolly stumbles forward toward the ropes, ‘Graves’ is in pursuit looking for a waistlock from behind…

But when he goes forward, Dolly leaps forward off the ropes… looking to set ‘Graves’ up for…

- - - A BACK SPRINGBOARD CUTTER!

TODD: Wow! What a dynamic counter by Dolly! ‘Graves’ walked right into that one!

Dolly crawls around for…

TODD: The first pin attempt!

1!



Quick kick out!!


Graves presses Dolly off of him, and she lands on her feet and immediately runs for the ropes. ‘Graves’ kips up to his feet. He chases after her.

Clothesline!

But Dolly ducks under, shit hits the next set of ropes and clothesline again! This time it - - - is countered!

Dolly leaps, grabbing the arm between her legs and arm drags ‘Graves to the mat, locking a Fujiwara Armb-… no!

‘Graves’ finds his center of gravity, pushing Dolly off toward the ropes! Dolly goes to rebound off of them…

But ‘Graves’ is right behind her! Knee lift STRAIGHT to the ribs!

Dolly doubles over, front-flipping onto her back, clutching her ribs and dry-heaving with the wind knocked out of her!

Ooooooooooooooooh

TODD: Ouch! That counter looked absolutely devastating!

‘Graves’ drops into a cover, grinding an elbow into Dolly’s face as he hooks the leg!

The official counts!

ONE!

TWO!

THR-NOPE! Dolly forces a shoulder up!

TODD: Possibly a little frustration mounting on the Anarchy champion’s face here!

BAMA: I get it! Dolly’s fought him like a gnat from the ring of the bell, buzzing at him, never letting up! He’s gotta be thinkin’, what do I got to do to keep her down?!?

As Dolly cradles her ribs, ‘Graves’ yanks her to her feet by the waistband of her tights… ‘Graves’ pulls her backwards into a waistlock…

RELEASE GERMAN SUPLEX!

…

But Dolly backflips onto her feet! The crowd goes nuts!

TODD: Holy COW! The sheer athleticism of the Universal champion! How does she move like that?!?

BAMA: And she ain’t done movin’, Toddrick!

Indeed, as ‘Graves’ kips up onto his feet, Dolly hits the ropes…

‘Graves’ turns around, expecting to see a downed Wat-

WHAM! SHOTGUN DROPKICK!

‘Graves’ gets blasted like he just got hit by a car, across the ring, through the ropes, and on the padded concrete outside the ring!

FUCK ‘EM UP, DOLLY! FUCK ‘EM UP! *clap clap*

TODD: WOW! That dropkick looked like ‘Graves’ got hit by an NFL linebacker!

…Centurion circles the ring, over to ‘Graves’, who’s shaking off cobwebs…

BAMA: Ol’ Cent, clearly lookin’ for an opportunity to give ‘Graves’ a piece of his mind!

…Andy walks over to the Dark Warrior, seemingly looking for a spot to scoop him back into the ring…

…But his eyes narrow… checking ‘Graves’ height against his as ‘Graves’ slowly works his way to feet.

TODD: Cent, I think, a little thrown by the fact ‘Graves’ is four inches shorter than the last time Cent saw him!

‘Graves’ rapidly blinks through his Dark Warrior mask… before realizing who’s next to him.

”Oh. Hey Andy.” The camera picks up.

…Cent squints like… do I know this asshole?

Meanwhile, the official has been counting…

FIVE!

SIX! Dolly waves at her co-revolutionary, like ‘whenever you’re ready to get back to work?’

‘Graves’ immediately rolls back into the ring and the two go into another scrap!

Dolly aims a spinning heel kick!

But ‘Graves’ ducks it, delivering a boot to the stomach! Dolly doubles over, collapsing back… but keeping her footing as one knee reflexively slides under her to keep her going back on the mat!

TODD: ‘Graves’ seems keen to target the Dolly’s solarplexus!

BAMA: There’s a near two-and-a-half decade age gap between Dolly and ‘Graves’! ‘Graves is NEVER gonna keep up with Dolly’s conditioning, so he has to make choices that drain her tank faster! Spoil that natural fuel efficiency that comes with youth!

‘Graves’ snatches Dolly by the arm, driving his head under her shoulder, and wrapping his arms around her waist!

HE LIIIIIIIIIFTS!

NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX!

TODD: Beautiful rotation there!

The official drops to count!

ONE!

TW-Wait! ‘Graves’ somersaults backwards out of the bridge, while remaining latched onto Dolly’s waist!

BAMA: I will never not appreciate how absurd this trick is! It feels like it’s physically impossible!

‘Graves’ manages… with a heave… to deadlift Dolly off her back!

SECOND NORTHER-...

…Wait! On the way up for the back-to-back, Dolly wraps her legs around ‘Graves’’s waist, latching onto his shoulder!

TODD: There’s life in Dolly yet!

And Dolly slams herself backwards! ARM DDT, smashing ‘Graves’s shoulder against the mat!

Even through the Dark Warrior mask, ‘Graves’’s icy expression melts into one of anguish… He smashes his fist against the mat, as he cradles that arm…

TODD: Meanwhile, Dolly seems keen to attack ‘Graves’’ arm!

BAMA: That accomplishes two things! ONE, it’s gonna make it hard as hell for ‘Graves’ to secure that trademark Fujiwara armbar! Second… it’s gonna soften him up if she wants to keep trying for that Fujiwara herself!

TODD: If Dolly Waters can make ‘Graves’ submit to the Fujiwara armbar… I think this crowd is going to actually riot!

BAMA: What are they gonna do, Toddrick? Tear the roof off this place! There’s no roof!

Dolly stands, panting lightly. She runs and hits the ropes. Baseball slide attack right into ‘Graves’ arm! He lets out an uncharacteristic, almost feral shout of anguish...

Dolly goes to climb back to a vertical base, but ‘Graves’ grabs her by the ankle, sweeping her to the mat! Wham! Dolly’s tripped, landing face first on the canvas!

TODD: oof! It feels like the vibes have changed in the ring a little bit!

BAMA: You ain’ lyin’, Toddy! This felt like a friendly sparring match, now it feels like two alley cats scrapping over a leftover trashbag of yesterday’s fettuccine!

‘Graves’ keeps hold of the ankle, twists his hips and drops a sharp falling elbow into the back of her bad knee. Dolly screams, pounding the mat, and ‘Graves’ rises again- - - another elbNO- - - he abruptly drops Dolly’s leg and starts cradling his arm again, falling over to the mat himself!

[blue]TODD: Ouch! Delayed reaction to using that injured elbow!

BAMA: Ya gotta remember, Dolly and ‘Graves’ are only DAYS removed from getting beaten down by the Corporation! They already don’t feel good! And they’re both the kind of competitors willing to cut their own gut to get a momentary advantage!

‘Graves’ and Waters both slowly recover back to a vertical base, Waters favoring that right leg… ‘Graves’ favoring that arm…

‘Graves’ strikes first… CHOP!

WOOOOOOOOOO!

Dolly CHOPS back!

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

‘Graves’ CHOP!

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Dolly reels back… and DEAD-ARMS ‘Gravy’ in that weakened arm! ‘Graves’ staggers back, to the ropes, cradling his arm to his chest!

TODD: Dolly is not giving that arm a MOMENT to recover!

‘Graves’ shakes that arm out, cradling onto the top rope…

Dolly charges, looking to clothesline ‘Graves’ over the top rope…

But ‘Graves’ ducks! Dolly hits the ropes, straight into ‘Graves’ arms…

SPINNING SPINEBUSTER SLAM WITH AUTHORITY!

The ring rattles as Dolly rotates around the mat, cradling her spine!

TODD: ‘Graves’ got all of that one! Could ‘Graves’ beat the Universal champion on Anarchy for the second time?!?

‘Graves’ crawls on one arm into the cover, hooking the inside leg!

The official counts!

ONE!

TWO!

THR-NO!

Dolly rolls her shoulder off the mat!

BAMA: If Dolly hadn’t been attacking ‘Graves’’s arms, he might’ve reached for the outside leg and this one could be over!

…’Graves’ pounds the mat with his healthy arm, clearly frustration is mounting… Dolly slowly starts to rise…

‘Graves’ grabs Dolly’s leg and drags her backward to the center of the ring… He points to the sky!

TODD: I think ‘Graves’ is going for the Figure Four! Fun Fact: The Figure Four was Mark Flynn’s original submission finisher!

BAMA: Why do you have Mark Flynn trivia in your notes? This is a MICHEAL GRAVES MATCH!

TODD: Allegedly!

‘Graves’ grabs Dolly’s leg and rotates it,giving Dolly his back…

Dolly boots ‘Graves’ in the back, propelling him towards the ropes! ‘Graves’ rebounds off the ropes, leaping high!

DOUBLE BOOT STOMP!

…No! Dolly rolls out the way towards the ropes! She shoves her way to her feet… but ‘Graves’ springs forward, latching in a front facelock…

But Dolly goes low and drives her skull into ‘Graves’’s gut… ‘Graves’, surprised, staggers back, air driven from his lungs!

TODD: These two are absolutely vicious!

BAMA: The Union may be a buncha commies, but they fuckin’ FIGHT!

Both Dolly and ‘Graves’ breathe heavily, Dolly holding the ropes, ‘Graves’ holding his guts in the center of the ring…

Dolly shoves off, charging first, looking for a lariat!

…But ‘Graves’ latches onto the arm, trying to shove Dolly’s face into the mat! FUJIWAR-

…No! Dolly rotates her shoulder and arm drags ‘Graves’…

‘Graves’ somersaults through, skidding across the ring!

Dolly shoves herself off the ropes!

DISCUS LARIAT!

…’Graves’ drops to his back! And kips right back up!

BAMA: I swear ‘Graves’ is aging backwards…

But Dolly keeps running off the missed lariat! She hits the ropes on the other side, ‘Graves’ turns aro-

RUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNING WATERS!

TODD: OH MY GOD! RUNNING WATERS FROM OUTTA NOWHERE!

BAMA: OH SHIT! For the first time in almost fifty weeks, is Micheal Graves gonna drop a loss on Anarchy?!?

‘Graves’ is blasted into the ropes, looking like he don’t know which way is up, only that his body’s going down…

Dolly crawls across the ring for a cover…

But, with the last of his wherewithal, ‘Graves’ flops between the bottom and middle ropes, flopping outside the ring!

BAMA: Amazing ring IQ by Gravy! Buying himself some recovery time!

TODD: Not if Andy Cortinovis has anything to say about it!

…’Graves’, coughing and sputtering, crawls weakly onto his knees… he open his eyes… and sees a pair of boots in front of him…

He looks up…

And standing above him is XWF Legend Centurion!

…

”…*sigh*”

”Hey AndEEEEE!”

FWSH! Cent scoops ‘Graves’ to his feet…

THROW HIM IN! THROW HIM IN!

TODD: The crowd is begging Cent to let Dolly finish this one!

Cent cups his ear, playing up the moment, like he’s trying to hear the crowd…

Then, he chucks ‘Graves’ under the ring, near the corner!

JC: This could be it! Dolly might beat the man thought to be unbeatable on Thursday nights!

‘Graves’ weakly crawls to his knees, as Dolly points the air, the crowd clapping in tune with her pointing!

Dolly sprints! RUNNNNNNNNNNNING WATERS!

…

Is dodged! With the last of his strength, ‘Graves’ rolls sideways! Dolly SLAMS, tangled into the turnbuckle!

TODD: What a dodge! I didn’t think ‘Graves’ still had one of those in the tank!

Dolly woozily rotates away from the turnbuckle…

As ‘Graves’ latches on a front face lock!

He HEAVES Dolly into the air!

THE END! (Kenta Kobashi’s Black Crush)

BAMA: BALLGAME!

TODD: Awwww, bad luck for Dolly Waters… no one has kicked out of The End in Micheal Graves’ Anarchy tenure!

BAMA: They call it The End for a reason, Toddrick! Nice try, Dolls! Thanks for playing!

‘Graves’ exhaustedly crawls, dragging one arm forward, latching his weight over Dolly’s OUTSIDE shoulder this time!

The official drops to count!

ONE!

TWO!

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEENOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

TODD: WHAT?!?

BAMA: WHAT?!?

WHAT?!?

At the last possible moment, Dolly Waters throws the shoulder up!

‘Graves’ eyes go wide as he slumps exhaustedly to the mat!

BAMA: NO WAY! NO WAY! NO… NO GODDAMNED WAY!

TODD: You said it earlier, Bama, ‘Graves’ was thinking it, now this whole arena must be asking… What could possibly put Dolly Waters down?!?

…’Graves’ shakes his head, from the mat, pulling himself up by the bottom rope… then the middle rope! He waves Dolly up, signaling for a second The End!

BAMA: … that’s right! He didn’t get all of it that last time! That was like a half of The End! Maybe only a third! This one’s ending it for sure!

TODD: Looked like he got all of it to me, Bama! Dolly is just riding this crowd’s energy! They gave her the fighting spirit to kick out!

BAMA: … Todd, you’re watching way too much of that ‘a-knee-may’…

Dolly slowly rises to one foot, ‘Graves’ screaming at her to get up!

Dolly does, on jelly legs…

‘Graves’ boots Dolly in the stomach! And hoists her into a front facel-

Dolly latches onto ‘Graves’’s arm, dragging ‘Graves’ face first down to the mat!

FUJIWARA! FUJIWARA ARMBAR!

THE CROWD GOES INSANE!

TODD: FUJIWARA! Dolly has the Fujiwara locked in on ‘Graves’!

BAMA: YOU CALLED IT! YOU CALLED IT, TODDY! OKLAHOMA CITY IS ABOUT TO GO NUTS!

DOLLY! DOLLY! DOLLY!

‘Graves’ is trapped… his hand shakes… But, Dolly brought him down near the ropes!

TODD: ‘Graves’ can pull off yet another impossible escape… If he can just… reeeeeeeach!

‘Graves’ reaches… He reaches…

His hand shakes!

…

His fingertips extend toward the ropes!

…BUT NO! Dolly extends her legs and kicks off the ropes!

The pair backwards somersault, two feet back!

AND DOLLY PULLS ON THE FUJIWARA TIGHTER! SHE KEPT IT LOCKED IN THROUGH THE ROTATION!

The crowd gets even louder!

TODD: What a maneuver! What technique by Dolly Waters! She’s wrestled the perfect match up to this point! Can she close it?!?

‘Graves’’s arm continues to shake… He bites down on his free-hand, like a coyote trying to gnaw off its own arm to escape a trap!

TODD: ‘Graves’ trying to desperately to send pain signals away from his brain! It’s crazy!

BAMA: And it can’t last! He’s about to tap! Dolly Waters might just have this!

‘Graves’... manhandles his elbow into the mat, elevating his chest!

TODD: NO WAY!

BAMA: HOW IS ‘GRAVES’ NOT GIVING IN?!?

He crawls forward, for the ropes!

He’s a foot away!

Six inches!

TODD: He’s gonna get there!

…NO!

Dolly kicks off the ropes, trying another somersault!

…But this time, ‘Graves’ shoves off the mat, stacking Dolly’s shoulders under his back against the mat!

…And simultaneously, Dolly wraps an arm around ‘Graves’ shoulders, rolling him up!

The official drops to count!

TODD: Wait, whose down?!?

ONE!

BAMA: I think it’s Dolly!

TWO!

BAMA: No, wait! ‘Graves’!

THREE!

…

……

WINNER: ..


…

……

………

WINNER: DRAW


BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

TODD: Ohhhhh, the crowd hates a draw!

BAMA: But what an incredible match! What an absolute war between these two competitors!

TODD: Truly a once-in-a-lifetime performance by both our Universal champion AND our Anarchy champion!

After a while, the crowd starts a different chant…

SUDDEN DEATH! SUDDEN DEATH!

…Dolly and ‘Graves’ exhaustedly get up… Before hearing the crowd…

…

Dolly points at the crowd, looking at ‘Graves’...

…

‘Graves’ laughs, and shakes his head…


…Dolly agrees.

AWWWWWWWWWW

After a momentary disappointment, the crowd begins to applaud the incredible showing by both competitors.

Dolly raises ‘Graves’’s arm, and the crowd cheers…

‘Graves’ bows politely…

And then raises Dolly’s arm.

And OKC goes FUCKING LOOOOOOOOOOOOOUD!

REVOLUTION!

TODD: A match-of-the-year candidate for certain! What a match!

BAMA: AND WE’VE STILL GOT ONE MORE TO GO!

[Image: wireline.png]

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[Image: wireline.png]

Hunched over in the women's locker rubble, Dolly approaches a statuesque figure clad in a blue and white two piece ensemble. A long umber mane draped down the back facing the camera further hiding the woman's identity. It was a poor kept secret and the XWF fans watching knew at the onset who it was. They had only swarmed her profile page more than any superstar on the roster. New and old.

But if there was a casual viewers iin attendance, the animated head movements and Mediterranean growl coming from beneath the hunch was an equal give away.

“Ismene, voúrtsise ta dóntia sou!” Atara snapped to what appeared to be no one at first but then another Grecian accent broke the airwaves. A higher pitched miniature one.

“Ochi!” a child protested.

Atty gasped and hunched further to reach for foot and pulled off a flip flop that disappeared to her front.

“Voúrtsise ta dóntia sou alliós tha fas xýlo!” She snapped again.

“Ochi!”

Atty had started back in a quick and vehement Greek with animated body language to match but before she could get into deep there’s a tap on Atty’s shoulder.

Hey… got a sec?

“Ti!” Atty barked snapping upright and spinning on heel with fiery gaze at her interrupted. Upon seeing Dolly it immediately cooled and when the cameras were noticed it turned to shock.
In one hand she held her cellphone and in the other she held a the flip flop. It took only a split second before Atara shoved them both behind her back.

A sheepish and embarrassed laugh throttles from her lips.

“Dolly! What a surprise..haha….of course, of course, just let me finish something real quick.”

Atty spun around and hunched,  hissed something and tossed the phone and shoe aside before spinning back.

“What's up?”

was wondering… you wanna come back home?

Atty raises an eyebrow

Where yer’ protected from your enemies?

Dolly produces a piece of paper… something legal and binding…

we need your help…

Handing Atara a pen…

and I think you could use our help too

[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: I think our Universal Champion was just trying to recruit Atara Raven into the Union!

BAMA: That’s what it looked like to me!

TODD: She said that Atara should come home. Do you think she’ll accept the offer?

BAMA: We’ll just have to wait and see, I imagine.



The opening guitar riff the Deftones’ “Kimdracula” hits the arena speakers as multicolored lights pour over the crowd. The lights slowly rotate color in a mesmerizing, psychedelic fashion as the camera pans over the excited crowd. They stand and cheer, partially excited to be on television but also excited because they know that this music signifies that they’re about to be in the presence of an XWF Legend.

Our view shifts to the entrance walkway, which is now blocked by a large pane of glass. On the glass, a name is painted:

THE TRIBE

The viewer only has a moment to take in the glass before the glass explodes towards the camera as a foot kicks through and explodes the whole display!

The crowd erupts in a huge pop.

Aidan Collins is here with Solomon Kline!

The two are decked out in their custom ring gear, putting on a show for the fans. They each make their own moves down the ramp, slapping hands and showing off!

TODD: It still feels surreal watching Aidan Collins here in the flesh in today’s XWF. I remember back when I joined the company over a decade ago, and watching him in the ring before he left!

BAMA: And it looks like he ain’t lost a step, baby! And Solomon Kline, he’s got a lot to prove with that chip on his shoulder, but he looks ready to go compete for gold tonight!

Kline rolls under the ropes whole Collins walks up the ring steps and walks down the apron to the center of the ring. He points out to the crowd before folding his arms in front of himself, giving the crowd ample time to pop off photos with their cell phones.

Aidan enters the ring through the middle rope. He shakes the ring official’s hand, now ready for the contest to begin.


BAMA: You can feel the tension as we wait for the tag champs…

TODD: I can only imagine what must be running through the challengers’ heads in terms of strategy.

…

The entirely epic XTron video of TNGB takes over the arena as the lights dim. A spotlight highlights the ramp, and Thunder Knuckles walks out onto the entrance ramp, hyped and ready to fight, pointing out into the crowd. Behind him, Bobby Bourbon deliberately walks out and stops, also pointing out into the crowd. Both men glance at each other and return their attention to the ring, delivering a no-look fistbump, then in unison point into the ring. The crowd sings along with the song.

*ASSHOLE, DIRTBAG, NO GOOD BASTARDS!*stomp stomp*

TODD: Arguably the greatest tag team in XWF history, Them No Good Bastards never fail to make enemies everywhere they turn. They’ve got a trail of bodies in their wake, and they’re ready to try and make two more.

BAMA: Is it me, or do they look extra mad tonight?

TK slides into the ring and gets up onto a knee, beckoning the crowd as Bobby climbs the steps and enters the ring behind him. TK stands and appeals to the crowd as Bobby raises his arms at 45-degree angles.

Referee N. Sertname looks to both corners to see the legal man, seeing TK and JB staring down from across one another, John psyching himself up for the war he views in front of him, stretching his arms out as he leans towards Thunder Knuckles like a mountain lion preparing to hunt. TK meets him with a steely gaze, focusing more fury and determination than he’s ever mustered up in his entire career.

…

From each of their corners, Thunder Knuckles starts things off for the Bastards, while Aidan Collins looks raring to go for the Tribe.

Collins paces like a predator, his eyes locked on TK—while TK does the opposite, leaning back against the ropes, grinning ear to ear, jawing with some fan in the second row about shitty Oklahoma is.

TODD: Thunder Knuckles loves digging at people, it’s his favorite thing to get in anyone’s head and take up residence!

BAMA: He ain’t wrong, though, Toddy! Oklahoma is a trash state!

The official signals for the start!

DING DING!




ANARCHY TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP

THEM NO GOOD BASTARDS © (Knuckles & Bourbon)
- vs -
THE TRIBE (Collins & Kline)

Tag-Team Match


TK shoves off the turnbuckle, like the work bell just rang… raising his hands for a test of strength with Collins. The XWF Legend Blizzard shrugs, he’s down for some old sch-

WHAM! TK brings a hand to slap Blizz across the face!

The crowd boos furiously as TK cackles, smacking his knee like he can’t believe he got Blizz with that.

BAMA: HAH! That’s why ol’ TK’s a DOUBLE champion, Todd! Pure psychological warfare!

TK stands up, pointing and laughing at Bl-

WHAM! Blizz hits TK right under the jaw with a…

EUROPEAN UPPERCUT!

TK’s head snaps back as he staggers into the ropes! Collins launches another one! A third!

TODD: If there was any good will between these teams before the bell rang, I think TK just squashed that!

BAMA: These pairs straight up do not like each other, Toddy, baby!

TK tries to thumbs Collins in the eye… But the veteran blocks it with his right hand!

TK takes Blizz’s momentary shift from offense to defense to hotfoot it towards his corner… With Collins in hot pursuit!

TODD: TK trying to make the first tag of the match… But Collins is clearly still eager to physicall punish TK!

Collins latches TK in a front-facelock, trying to drag him back out of the Bastard’s corner…

But as they jockey for control, Bobby reaches between the top and middle ropes, smacking TK’s hip!

TAG → TK TO BOURBON


TODD: Bourbon just tagged himself in the match! And I don’t think Collins noticed!

BAMA: When you’ve been teaming as long as the Bastards have, you know every single trick in the book!


Collins hauls TK across the ring with an Irish whip… TK rebounds off the ropes…

And on the way back, Collins catches him with a…

CRISP DROPKICK!

TODD: As crisp as a winter breeze, Bama! That’s why they call him Blizzard!

TK rolls backwards to the ropes, clutching his chest… Collins goes to continue the atta-

WHAM! From behind, Bobby Bourbon launches a discomBOBulating Ear Clap that staggers Collins!

BAMA: And so the numbers game begins! Bobby striking to take Collins off his feet and isolate him from his partner!

Collins, working off reflex and heart, shakes off the cobwebs and fires back at Bourbon with a right hand! Bobby eats it with a grin, then slams Aidan with a thunderous…

HEADBUTT! Collins drops flat on his back!

TODD: Good lord! Bobby Bourbon just caved Blizzard’s head int with that strike![/blue]

Bobby drags Aidan by the scruff into the Bastards’ corner and smacks TK’s arm…

TAG → BOURBON TO TK


The champions immediately go to work—Bobby hoists Collins high up in the air for a vertical suplex, holding him upside-down for a good five seconds…

WhenTK leaps off the middle rope with a mid-air dropkick to Aidan’s ribcage!

TODD: Ouch! A tandem maneuver as creative as it is devastating!

BAMA: The Bastards love cooking together, they love scheming together, and they love hurting people together! It’d be touching if it wasn’t so violentyl horrifying to watch in action!

Collins collapses to the mat in a heap, clutching his side. In the Tribe corner, Kline smacks the turnbuckle pad, telling Collins to stay in it!

TK dives on top of Collins for a cover—

ONE!

—but Aidan kicks out with authority!

TODD: Aidan Collins defiant here! Not even letting TK get a two-count!

BAMA: Dumb! The Bastards are letting Blizz BURN out his energy!

The crowd roars as Collins shakes his head, snarling through the pain. He drags himself toward his corner, reaching for Solomon Kline! The Rookie of the Year candidate extends his arm, eager to enter the action…

…

Nope! TK grabs Collins’ ankle and pulls him back to the Bastards’ side, pounding on the challenger with stiff forearms to the back!

TODD: The Bastards aren’t going to make it that easy for Blizz to get a breather! Collins is going to have to endure this early onslaught if the Tribe want to realize their championship dreams.

BAMA: He’s also gonna have to find a way not to get his teeth knocked down his throat, Todd. And frankly? I ain’t likin’ his odds.

TK gloats over the grounded Blizzard, stomping Collins’ hand for good measure! Collins’ face contorts in pain as he cradles his hand!

The crowd begins clapping rhythmically, willing Aidan toward his corner… and Solomon Kline claps along with them!

TK takes a grip on Aidan’s ankle, strutting around the ring like he owns it. He drags Collins toward the Bastards’ corner and reaches a hand to Bobby….

TAG → TK TO BOURBON


TODD: These quick tags are very strategically sound! Guaranteed to keep each bastard fresh and keep Collins in the ring for as long as possible…

TK delivers a vicious CHOP to Blizz’s chest… as Bobby set up like a linebacker in the center of the ring!

BAMA: Oh man… I ain’t even know what the Bastards are planning here, but I can already tell it’s gonna hurt!

TK nods at Bobby as he grabs Blizz’s arm… And slingshot Irish whips Collins out!

Bobby looks for a…

291-POUND SPEAR!

…

BUT BLIZZ LEAPS UP AND OVER! TK’s eyes widen as he ducks under the bottom rope! And Bobby’s face eats middle turnbuckle pad!

TODD: Miscalculation by the Bastards, Bama!

BAMA: Part of that creative violence, Toddrick! Sometimes an experiment blows up in your face!

TK rushes to the apron to grab the tag rope and smack Bobby on the shoulder!

TAG → BOURBON TO TK!


But Collins is already zipping into his corner!

BLIZZ SMACKS SOLOMON’S HAND!

TAG → COLLINS TO KLINE!


TODD: Here he is! Solomon Kline! Second-Generation XWF star and recent X-Treme champion!

BAMA: And he’s lookin’ ready to punish the Bastards for double-teaming his mentor!

The roof blows off as Solomon Kline vaults into the ring, storming straight for Thunder Knuckles! TK tries to grapple Kline…

But Kline barrels him over with a…

DIVING SHOULDER BLOCK! TK dizzily pops up as Kline bounces off the ropes!

BIG CLOTHESLINE! TK nearly does a flip, before landing on his face!

Solomon roars as the crowd roars with him!

Bobby Bourbon storms in illegally—he scoops Kline under the armpits looking for a…

BIG BOY TOSS!

…No! Kline lands on his feet, rebounds off the ropes, and leaps into the air!

ASHES TO ASHES! And Bourbon gets KNOCKED onto his back!

TODD: Listen to this crowd! Solomon Kline is laying waste to the champions!

BAMA: If that boy wants to lock down winning Rookie of the Year? Beating both Bastards would make that award a LOCK for young Kline!

Kline roars, fists clenched, as the Bastards roll to opposite corners trying to regroup.

Solomon Kline paces the ring like a beast unleashed, pounding his chest before charging Bobby Bourbon in the corner. He rips into Bobby with a…

CLOTHESLINE IN THE CORNER!

TK staggers out of his own corner toward Kline—only to get scooped and planted with a…

SPINEBUSTER!

TODD: Solomon Kline is a one-man wrecking crew!

Kline pumps his fist, motioning to Aidan—who cheers from the apron, begging for the tag in.

But Solomon’s not done yet. He latches his hands around Bourbon’s waist as Bobby stumbles off the mat, looking for a Dust to Dust…

…But Bourbon lifts his back, propelling Solomon through the air!

BACK BODY DROP!

TODD: Big air on that one!

BAMA: That’ll knock the salt off ya chewing gum!

Kline cradles his gut after flying through the air…

When TK dives out of the corner, delivering mounted punches on Kline!

Blizz hops through the ropes to support his partner… but the official blocks his entry!

TODD: What’s going on? The official’s letting Kline get assaulted two-on-one, but Blizz can’t join the party!

BAMA: Think ya forgot, Toddrick! TK’s the legal man! Blizz ain’t!

TK wipes the sweat from his forehead, rising over Kline, circling the young phenom like a shark smelling blood….

Kline starts to shove his way off the mat… The moment he’s got a leg off the mat, TK dives in shoulder first!

WHAM! LOW CHOP BLOCK!

Solomon roars in pain as TK goes right back to mounted punches and stomps, working the leg relentlessly.

BAMA: THAT is what makes TK so good! Those targeted attacks, weakening the leg… like watching dark clouds roll in, just before the… THUNDAH STRIKE!

As the official finally gets Blizz back to his team’s corner, Bobby claps! And steps through the ropes without touching TK…

TODD: Wait, was that a tag? TK and Bobby didn’t even make a contact!

BAMA: Official didn’t see it, though! What do you think, Graphics Department?

TAG → TK TO BOURBON!


BAMA: Thank ya kindly, Graphics Department!

Aidan Collins is beside himself on the apron, shouting for Kline to fight back, pounding the turnbuckle in rhythm as the crowd claps along.

Bourbon gingerly scoops Solomon off the mat… before hoisting him into the air!

BIG BOY TOSS! Kline flies through the air like a sack full of restaurant garbage, landing in a heap near a neutral corner of the ring!

Bourbon pretends to dab at imaginary sweat on his forehead and immediately tags TK back in…

TAG → BOURBON TO TK!

TK grasps the ropes, prepping for a sprint… Thunder Knuckles JOLTS across the ring! He leaps!

DOUBLE BOOTED STOMP onto Kline’s chest!

Kline’s tongue extends as pain sears his ribs!

TK drops down and covers him, counting along himself.

ONE! TWO! THREE!

TODD: …DId TK just count his own pin? That’s not… that’s not an option, right?

BAMA: Don’t know until you try, Toddrick!

The official shakes off TK’s count and pats the mat!

ONE!

TWO!

TH-NO!

Kline launches him off with a power kickout that sends TK off him.

TODD: Kline’s not going down that easy!

BAMA: The more he fights back, the more the Bastards are gonna enjoy savor the flavor of breaking him down!

TK looks down with a sneer, surprised Kline still has this much fight in him. He backs up into his corner and the Bastards trade tags once more!

TAG → TK TO BOURBON!


The Bastards drag Kline up again, pushing him into their corner. Bobby grips Kline’s arms behind his back… while TK peppers him with jabs to the ribs, then a nasty open-hand slap across the face that echoes through the arena.

TODD: HOW IS THIS LEGAL?!?

BAMA: C’mon, Todd! You know on tags, the partners has til five!

Blizzard continues smacking the top turnbuckle as the crowd smacks it with him, desperate to get the Tribe back in this match!

The moment the official gets to four, TK dives back onto the apron!

…And then reaches over the ropes to  smack Bobby’s shoulder!

TAG → BOURBON TO TK!


TODD: These constant tags between Bastards are effectively making this a handicap match!

BAMA: Completely within the rules, Toddrick! Don’t like it, call your congressman!

Bobby continues to hold Kline’s arms behind his back as  TK climbs to the middle rope…

BAMA: Get ready, Toddrick! The weather report’s calling for Thunder from above!

Kline, in Bobby’s grip, thrashes back and forth… before RIPPING out of Bobby’s grip!

Bobby, surprised, back-pedals into his corner! And knocks the turnbuckle pad!

TK wobbles on the ropes, his balance shot, coming off the turnbuckle…

Kline catches TK MID-FALL!

AND SPINS INTO A THUNDEROUS POWERSLAM!

The crowd explodes!

TODD: What a counter from Kline! This could be the break The Tribe needs!

BAMA: Don’t let him tag, you Bastards!

Solomon drags himself toward the corner, crawling on elbows and knees, his hand outstretched toward Aidan Collins who’s pacing like a caged animal on the apron.

…Bobby tries to charge out of the corner, grabbing Kline by the ankle!

BAMA: Oh thank goodn-

…But Solomon slips out of Bourbon’s grip! Kline dives to his corner!

TAG TO AIDAN COLLINS!

TAG → KLINE TO COLLINS!


The crowd erupts as XWF LEGEND AIDAN COLLINS vaults over the ropes! Bobby puts his dukes up…

RUNNING KNEE straight to Bobby’s jaw knocks him onto his ass!

TK staggers to his feet, looking for a BIG LARIAT!

But Collins ducks under, springboards off the ropes—springboard back elbow that takes TK down!

TODD: The weather report just got updated and we’re in for a BLIZZARD covering the ring!

Bobby shoves off the mat looking for a…

BIG BOOT!

But Collins side-steps again, latching a grip on Bourbon’s wrist… He spins him out as he winds up!

RIPCORD INTO A DISCUS LARIAT! Bourbon crumples to the mat as Aidan pops back up, rallying the crowd with a wild grin.

The crowd is deafening.

TODD: The Tribe are running roughshod over the champions! We could be looking at NEW Anarchy Tag Team Champions tonight!

BAMA: Don’t say it, Todd! Don’t you dare jinx it!

TK looks up towards the action with a gruesome visage, blood smearing down his forehead! The referee gasps in horror as he quickly leans down to check on him!

TODD: We got the scars of war in here tonight! TK looks like he’s practically on dream street!

BAMA: He might’ve gotten concussed! Good on the ref for trying to make sure he’s okay!

Blizzard doesn’t let up on the gas, however, hoisting up Bobby and holding him in ripcord position once more! Kline nods as he runs off the ropes!

AND LEAPS!





BOURBON LEANS OVER WHILE KICKING HIS LEG BACK FOR A LOW-BLOW TO COLLINS!

RIGHT AS KLINE’S ELBOW CONNECTS ONTO COLLINS’ SKULL!

BAMA: What timing! Bourbon just turned the tables just like that!

TODD: Kline looks like he just just accidentally committed murder!

Bourbon slumps forward onto all fours, sweat pouring from his body as Kline gasps aloud, leaning over to check on Collins. Collins gives a shaky nod back, and Kline turns around to try and put the boots back to Bourbon!

But Bourbon rises up with a thumb to the eye as he grits his teeth! He claps both hands around Kline’s neck - AND THROWS HIM OUT OF THE RING WITH A BIG BOY TOSS!

TODD: Bobby Bourbon just threw Kline out of the ring like he was a damn football!

BAMA: He took his eyes off the prize for too long, baby!

TODD: So did the ref… with such strangely convenient timing…

As Bourbon turns around though, he gets nailed with a strong right hand from Aidan Collins, who’s right back on his feet! Another right hand! Another! Another!

TODD: Collins trying to keep the match alive for his team!

BAMA: Well, he better look behind him!

Blizzard tries for one more punch before he could set up for a big move, but the punch is caught from behind! Thunder Knuckles is back on his feet!

Bourbon gets back to his own feet as the two nod at each other and throw a haymaker in unison!

SKULLBUSTER SPECIAL!

TODD: Those haymakers might have just knocked Aidan Collins loopy there!

BAMA: Yeah, he’ll be feeling that one tomorrow, I assure you!

TODD: What happened to being upset that TK might have been concussed a moment before?

BAMA: In a title match, Toddy, you gotta bring your A-Game, or you’re gettin’ stomped!

Blizzard slumps against Bourbon’s form, who proceeds to scoop him up high and hold him in vertical suplex position!

TK quickly scales the turnbuckle as he and Bourbon nod at each other!

TK LEAPS AND GRABS BLIZZARD’S LEG WHILE BOBBY FALLS!


Rainbow Laser Death Sequence!


TK ROLLS OVER COLLINS FOR THE PIN!


ONE!



TWO!



THREEEEEEEEEEEE!



Winners and STILL Anarchy Tag Team Champions: THEM NO GOOD BASTARDS!



As the referee awards the Bastards with their belts, both Bourbon and TK snatch them away as they angrily glare at the ref. They raise them high, basking in the boos.

TODD: It was a hard-fought match, that was to say the least. I was almost certain the Tribe was about to pull out a win towards the end…

BAMA: They mighta almost done it, but baby, ‘almost’ only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades, and we ain’t seeing either out here!

TODD: But we’ll be certain to see the Tribe looking for revenge soon, just like many other teams the Bastards might have crossed!

As Kline rolls into the ring to check on Blizzard, the Bastards roll out, holding their titles high above their heads as they walk to the back, and Anarchy fades to black.

[Image: logo2-2.png]
Copyright © 2025 - The Xtreme Wrestling Federation - Established 1999
All Rights Reserved


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“That hobbling weasel really did try to kill us.”

THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO CONTRIBUTED TO THIS SHOW!

MATCH WRITERS
NICKLE IF YOU… umm BICKLE(!)
PETER’S TOO GOOD FOR THIS
BASH MAN BARRY MASTER OF THE UNIVERSE
SCOOPLES MCAWESOMEFACE
A KING IS IN THERE SOMEWHERE

SEGMENT WRITERS
A BRIDGE OVER DOLLY WATERS
GRAVY? TURKEY OR BEEF?
BIG CORPORATE MONEY GREED TITANS

THE JUDGES

VINNIE’S VENUES

AND EVERYONE WHO RP’D!
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JOEY WHEEL-AND-DEALER: Well, that doesn’t look right.


FROM RIDING TO RODEO
[Image: vuE1ZV0.png]
08 - 21 - 2025

LIVE! FROM THE… JIM NORICK ARENA(?)

OKLAHOMA CITY, OKLAHOMA



Chaos reigns. Sirens are wailing, but off in the distance. Seemingly blocks away. The hollowed-out arena looms silently overhead, dominating the landscape before him. It’s clear that this building is one stiff breeze away from toppling over. Unfortunately, it very much is the arena at which Anarchy is supposed to take place in a few days.

JOEY WHEEL-AND-DEALER: Stars has lost his mind. Oh well.

Joey Wheel-and-Dealer turns toward the crew and starts flailing around in his oversized staff jacket like a man trying to conduct an orchestra with a broom handle.

JOEY WHEEL-AND-DEALER: Let’s move it, people! We’ve got a show to produce. XWF doesn’t run on excuses, it runs on the hard work and tireless dedication of the Sisyphus of the Xtreme - the thankless behind-the-scenes crew, which is us! All week every week! You know the drill-

Suddenly, a distant BOOM echoes. Then another. The ground shakes underfoot. Crew members stop what they’re doing. Joey blinks, confused, just as a low rumble overtakes the parking lot.

[Image: s3ZW6fP.gif]

Implosion charges hidden in the Jim Norick Arena detonate in perfect sequence. Before anyone can react, the entire arena collapses like a house of cards, swallowed in a cloud of dust and debris.

JOEY WHEEL-AND-DEALER: …Oh, son of a-

The dust cloud envelops Joey completely.

JOEY WHEEL-AND-DEALER: …Jimmy.

He stumbles out of it, covered in gray soot, coughing and wheezing. His sunglasses are cracked. His headset dangles off one ear. He looks around at the stunned crew.

TRUCK DRIVER: You okay boss?

JOEY WHEEL-AND-DEALER: Was that-

Wheel-and-Dealer turns around, to see the crater and pile of rubble where the Jim Norrick arena used to be. He slowly turns back to the crew.

JOEY WHEEL-AND-DEALER: (long pause) Well l’ll be a son of a biscuit. In all my years- Heh. That hobbling weasel really did try to kill us.

TRUCK DRIVER: So, what are we going to do?

Joey throws his clipboard down into the dust at his feet.

JOEY WHEEL-AND-DEALER: There’s only one thing we can do.

TRUCK DRIVER: Which is?


FROM RIDING TO RODEO RUBBLE
[Image: vuE1ZV0.png]
08 - 21 - 2025

LIVE! FROM WHAT’S LEFT OF THE JIM NORICK ARENA!

OKLAHOMA CITY, OKLAHOMA




SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX

Singles


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REGGIE ESTRADA
- vs -
JC KEETON

Singles


[Image: wireline.png]




MARISOL VILARO
- vs -
INQUISITION

Singles


[Image: wireline.png]




CELESTINE GALE
- vs -
SIR LIONEL PENNYFARTHING

Singles


[Image: wireline.png]



Anarchy Tag-Team #1 Contendership

Matthias Syn & Charlie Nickles
- vs -
The Money Titans
Thias Watts & Mr. Oz

Tag-Team Match


[Image: wireline.png]



Atara Raven
- vs -
Preston Vanderlay Esquire
- vs -
(Revolution #1 Contender)
XXXVI

Triple Threat Match


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CO-MAIN

Dolly Waters ©
- vs -
"Allegedly" Micheal Graves ©

Plus - XWF Legend Centurion will be sitting at ringside as the timekeeper and enforcer (as needed)!

Non-Title Singles w/Special Guest


[Image: wireline.png]





ANARCHY TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP

THEM NO GOOD BASTARDS © (Knuckles & Bourbon)
- vs -
THE TRIBE (Collins & Kline)

Tag-Team Match



Plumes of Blue and White pyrotechnics shoot out from tubes around the makeshift entry ramp and mark the start of our show! On this strange occasion, the XWF has taken over the pile of rubble that used to be the Jim Norick Arena in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma for a highly dubious edition of Thursday Night ANARCHY. Thousands of fans pour noise into this crater, some already clutching fresh merch and plastic cups, others still filling in from the dusty parking lot. Even still, there are hundreds, nay, millions more who are watching and x-streaming live from their homes.

As the last sparks fizzle, “Lithium” by Nirvana hits the speakers, officially welcoming XWF fans to the latest chapter of their favorite syndicated full-contact wrestling show, the one and only A-Show.


TODD: I’ll never not have my blood pumping after hearing our opening theme. Which we all need now more than ever, cause our arena is missing.

BAMA: Crank it, baby. Nothing gets you right like Nirvana rattlin’ the rubble. We’re gonna do this one way or the other. The XWF cannot be stopped!

The Anarchy announce team is at ringside, set for a long night. With “Lithium” still pounding, the cameras sweep across the ocean of faces from every section, catching homemade signs and day-one shirts. Oklahoma City is ready, and the memory of Sturgis still hangs in the air like gasoline. The hard cam cuts through the glow of phones and the shimmer of belts as the noise crests and breaks.


DOLLY FEVER NEVER ENDS

ALL HAIL THE TRIBE

THE JIM NORICK ARENA - “ALLEGEDLY”

VILARO VICTORY TOUR

JC KEETON RISES

OKC BELIEVES IN XXXVI

PENNYFARTHING FOR PM

MAKE INQUISITION TAP

ATARA IS MY 24/7 CHAMPION

WHEEL-AND-DEALER IS THE TRUE GM!


TODD: Two weeks ago Sturgis gave us carnage and clarity. Marisol Vilaro took the New Rider match and rode out with the keys. Preston Vanderlay Esquire stole one on a technicality when Regan Vale did his dirty work. XXXVI landed from the heavens with The Teeth of God and stunned Mr. Oz in the circle of bikes. Celestine Gale buried Inquisition until it was bodies under bikes, then signed her art with a crescent. And Aiden Collins survived the biker chain and touched all four corners to edge out Atara Raven.

BAMA: That scrapyard fight was one of my all-time favorites. But all-in-all, it was a banger of a show.

The camera settles on the desk. Todd adjusts his tie, Bama leans forward with a grin.

TODD: Before we run tonight down, quick housekeeping. Jimmy Stars is still suspended without pay. But somehow, someway… even being suspended, Jimmy still fucked this show up.

BAMA: Ehh. He can keep not showin’ up, too. We’re going to work it out, as we always do!

TODD: Now, here is what Oklahoma City is getting tonight. We start with Summer Page vs. Latoya Hixx. Power against precision, pride on the line after that bar fight chaos in Sturgis.

BAMA: Then Reggie Estrada vs. JC Keeton. Reggie throws hands like he owes himself money. Keeton has been stacking momentum. Somebody is leaving with a bigger lane toward Relentless.

TODD: Marisol Vilaro vs. Inquisition follows. Vilaro just cashed in a statement win, Inquisition just crawled out from under steel. Clash of aura, clash of game plans.

BAMA: After that, Celestine Gale vs. Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing. Gale is a walking séance. Lionel is a gentleman bruiser who likes to turn a phrase and a jaw. Don’t blink during this one, folks.

TODD: Tag mayhem next. Syn and Charlie team up against The Money Titans: Thias, and Oz. Two teams, one ring, a lot of receipts to collect after the Knuckle Saloon.

BAMA: Then a wild one. Atara Raven vs. Preston Vanderlay Esquire vs. XXXVI. Atara brings footwork and fire. PVE brings lawyers and loopholes. XXXVI brings flight plans. One of these three superstars are going to emerge from the Jim Norick crater tonight!

TODD: The co-main is a non-title showcase. Dolly Waters vs. “Allegedly” Micheal Graves, with Centurion sitting it out as the special guest timekeeper. Dolly is always two moves ahead. Graves is always two stories deep. Eyes on the clock, eyes on the stakes, and all eyes now firmly on Relentless.

BAMA: And your main event, belts up high. TK and BB defend the Anarchy Tag Team Championships against The Tribe. The Bastards swaggered into Sturgis and stirred the hornet’s nest. They’ve been the dominant tag team on our brand, and well, throughout XWF’s history. Can the Tribe change that here tonight?

The shot widens. Fans clap in rhythm. A kid on the rail bangs the barricade in time with the music. A handheld passes over a row of grinning faces and fresh foam fingers.

TODD: Seven matches, one former arena that sounds like a jet engine, and a straight shot into the home stretch toward Relentless. Every win tonight matters. Every mistake becomes a highlight or a headline.

BAMA: Saddle up, Oklahoma. Anarchy is live, and the fuse is lit!

TODD: Don’t say that. We’ve had enough fuses lit in the Jim Norick recently. The only fuse I want to light now is the one attached to Jimmy Stars.

BAMA: Hey, my bad Toddy! Just because we all had to bring our own chairs, doesn’t mean we can’t bring our own fun, too!

[Image: wireline.png]



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: It is truly a treat to have Summer Page here on Thursday nights! Always one of the highlights of Anarchy!

BAMA: She’s been dominant, no doubt, Toddy! Especially over her opponent!

TODD: It’s true! Summer and Latoya have wrestled multiple times across multiple companies, as Summer covered in her promo… And Summer’s come out on top every time! But any given night…

BAMA: Any given Thursday! Summer’s one of the best ever to grace Anarchy… But can Latoya get on the scoreboard tonight!

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.

…



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TODD: …Lengthy entrance, huh, Bama?

BAMA: I looked at the production budget for Latoya’s entrances…

TODD: And?

BAMA: It’s more than the referee’s salary.

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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!

TODD: Quite an entrance from Latoya Hixx! We’ve seen Latoya dominate some weeks… and struggle others!

BAMA: No doubt, Toddy! Latoya’s a goddamned OX of a woman. She can overpower anyone on the roster… But, in the ring… Something doesn’t click.

TODD: A lack of experience? Or maybe excess bravado? Either way, Latoya has the physical power and clearly the discipline building her body to succeed in the wrestling world! And it only takes one match to turn everything around.

BAMA: And if she could score a win over Summer Page tonight? It’d send her stock SKYROCKETING!

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!

…

Summer Page lifts her chin, lips curling into a smirk as she struts forward, arms loose at her sides, radiating entitlement and confidence. She raises one hand, wagging her fingers dismissively at Latoya like she’s daring her to try something.

Latoya snarls, eyes wide with pride wounded, pounding her chest with both fists She stomps forward, lowering her shoulders, challenging Summer head-on.

BAMA: Oh! Latoya ain’t waiting! Someone ring the bell!

The official, surprised by Latoya’s charge, decides to roll with it!

DING DING!



SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX
Singles



Summer, smirk never leaving her face, circles to Latoya’s side and feints a lock-up, but then darts behind with sharp footwork, cinching a waistlock.

TODD: Latoya’s opening gambit, countered quickly by Summer Page1

BAMA: Summer’s got YEARS of experience in the game! It ain’t her first rodeo, so she won’t get thrown by a bull charging her!

Latoya grits her teeth, face turning red with effort as she spreads her legs wide to block the takedown, hands clawing at Summer’s wrists. She jerks her arms, trying to break free, but Summer clings tight, pressing her cheek against Latoya’s back, calculating her next move.

Summer suddenly drops her hips low, rolling Latoya into a quick schoolgirl pin!

TODD: Summer going for a new record in beating Latoya!

BAMA: The quickest victory in Anarchy history?!?

ONE!

TW-Latoya kicks out!

TODD: Not this time! Latoya just too strong to get caught that easily!

BAMA: S’all mindgames, Toddy! Page making it clear Latoya’ strength ain’t worth a damn in the ring with a more technically-skilled grappler like Summer!

Page rolls off to her feet. Her eyes sparkle with arrogance, as though she’s just toying with her opponent.

Latoya’s eyes widen in shock—humiliation flashing across her face as she sits up on her knees, pounding the mat with her fist, shouting in anger.

TODD: Think you’re right, Bama! Summer’s deliberately getting under Latoya’s skin.

BAMA: It’s a risky strategy tho, Toddrick! Latoya’s too strong to be toyed with like this. Summer’s pokin’ a hornet’s nest.

Summer, rising smoothly, brushes invisible dust off her gear, her smirk growing wider at Latoya’s frustration. She raises her arms like she’s conducting an orchestra, playing to the crowd, basking in their reaction.

Latoya’s eyes burn with fury! She steamrolls forward with a wild swing…

CLOTHESLINE!

…Nope! Summer ducks under effortlessly, her eyes darting like a chess player seeing three moves ahead.

She spins on her heel, Latoya’s eyes widen ins shock… as Page grabs Latoya’s arm, and snaps her into a crisp…

ARM DRAG!

Page kips up immediately, wagging her finger as if scolding a child.

TODD: Wow! Page is looking confident!

BAMA: Sometimes you know you got somebody’s number! Page is putting a clinic on with Latoya Hixx!

TODD: It’s impressive… Until Page slips and Hixx catches her on the wrong foot!

Latoya sits up from the mat, her face a mix of shock and rage, shaking her head like she can’t believe she’s being thrown around. She slaps the mat and rises fast, charging again.

…BIG BOOT!

…No go!

Summer sidesteps again, grabs a headlock, and wrenches down with precision. Her jaw clenches, eyes narrowed, making it clear she’s tightening the noose.

Latoya’s face twists as she stomps around, trying to shove Summer off. Latoya’s teeth grit, nostrils flaring with frustration at being grounded.

Hixx shoves Summer into the ropes, but Summer uses the rebound momentum to swing back with a sharp…

SHOULDER TACKLE!

…

Ehhhhhh, that’s not happening.

Summer bounces off Latoya—who doesn’t budge an inch.

TODD: …Miscalculation by Miss Page there! She might have too much confidence against Hixx if she thinks she can bowl over the strongest woman on Anarchy!

Summer’s eyes flicker with annoyance, lips pursed in frustration. She tries again, running the ropes.

SHOULDER BLOCK!

Same result—Latoya stands tall, smirking now, her chest puffing with pride.

…Page, confidence challenged, rubs her shoulder realizing it’s a little sore after that second attempt.

TODD: That’s the power of Latoya Hixx—like running into a brick wall!

Latoya grins ear-to-ear, roaring and flexing… Before surging forward to grapple Page!

But Summer side-steps, gripping Latoya’s wrist and twisting it into a smooth wristlock.

BAMA: There we go! Summer’s back in the driver’s seat with that technical flair!

Latoya winces, face twisted in pain, hopping on one leg as Summer torques the arm. Her mouth hangs open in disbelief—she thought she had the advantage.

Summer yanks the arm down into a…

ARM DDT!

Hixx grips her wrist, shaking out her arm as her funny bone twinges with pain… But, Summer rolls through, holding the front facelock, and neatly converting onto a chinlock, her smile sharp, her eyes glaring down like a predator with prey.

BAMA: Ya gotta imagine how tough this is for Hixx… She keeps facing off with Page… but the gulf between their abilities only seems to increase!

TODD: Almost no one is more dedicated to upping their game week-to-week than Summer Page!

Latoya grimaces, teeth gnashing, clawing at Summer’s arms, but the frustration builds. Her face flushes red—she’s not used to being outmaneuvered like this.

Summer wrenches tighter, nodding her head as though instructing the referee to “just ask her.”

…The official glances, asking if Latoya wants to subm-

Latoya suddenly lets out a primal yell, forcing herself up to her knees! Her eyes blaze with fury, veins standing out in her neck!

TODD: Uh oh! I think Latoya’s PISSED OFF!

She throws back elbows HARD!

ONCE!


TWICE! Catching Summer in the RIBS!

Summer stumbles back, eyes wide in surprise, clutching her ribs. For the first time her smug veneer cracks.

TODD: Oh my! Hixx connects with some vicious elbows!

BAMA: And Summer looks hurt!

Latoya seizes the moment, her face twisting with determination. She lunges forward, scoops Summer up across her chest with a sudden surge of raw power…

MONSTER FALLAWAY SLAM!

TODD: Whoa! Latoya Hixx with the power game, and just like that, momentum shifts!
BAMA: Not just momentum, Toddy! That move could put anyone away! Could Hixx actually steal this one?!?

Latoya staggers to her feet after the Fallaway Slam, eyes wide, chest heaving. For the first time all match, she looks confident, her lips curling into a hopeful grin. She throws her arms wide, motioning for Summer to rise, shouting, “Get up!” The crowd roars in anticipation.

Summer groans, pushing up on her elbows… as if the oxygen was driven out of her with those elbow strikes…

TODD: Oh man! Summer might not know where she is!

BAMA: This would be the upset of the century!

Latoya stomps her foot, eyes blazing, and charges with her leg cocked high…

BICYCLE KICK!

…

NO!

At the last possible instant, Summer ducks to the side! Hixx skids past, having put everything she had in that kick, her feet are off balance.

As easily as taking a book off a shelf, Page wraps Latoya in a tight front facelock. Summer’s cocky smirk returns, as she raises an arm for the crowd!

TODD: Page’s got Hixx hooked—Pure Perfection incoming!

Summer kicks a leg up for max impact!

PURE PERFEC-

…NO!

With a burst of raw power, Latoya bellows and hauls Summer off her feet, clutching her tight against her chest.

BEAR HUG!

TODD: Bear Hug! Hixx has her signature Bear Hug in the center of the ring! Page is nowhere near the ropes!

BAMA: …Oh my God! This could be hit!

Latoya’s jaw drops open in a wild, hopeful roar! Hixx clamps down, every muscle in her arms flexing, her eyes screaming “TAP OUT! TAP OUT!”

Summer gasps, face twisting in agony as the air squeezes from her lungs. Her eyes flicker—panic flashing!

The official asks Summer if she’s giving up…

Summer’s arm shakes!

BAMA: NO WAY!

Page grimaces, then snakes her arm up around Latoya’s skull, jaw tight with determination…

TODD: Summer’s fading fast! Latoya’s got her dead to rights!

Bama: SQUEEZE, Latoya! Finish it!

…Summer…

SUMMER!

…

Summer…



Straightens her body in the air, legs snapping upward like a gymnast!

TODD: …whoa, never seen this before!

Page’s eyes sharpen into focus as she whips her weight forward, gripping Latoya by the skull!

And spikes Latoya’s head straight into the mat!

1999! (Impaler DDT)

TODD: WOW! What a maneuver!

BAMA: With that impact, Latoya’s face might have left an imprint on the mat!

Latoya’s body goes limp, her face blank with shock as she flops to the canvas.

Summer rolls through smoothly, pressing her chest down tight, hooking the leg with one hand and raising the other like royalty already basking in her coronation.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

WINNER: SUMMER PAGE!


The bell rings.

Summer sits up, hair wild, lips curling into a victorious smirk. She pats her chest like she’s dusting herself off, looking down at Latoya with disdain.

TODD: Latoya Hixx was so close—she had Summer Page in deep trouble, but the veteran instincts came out at the last second.

BAMA: Was a close call, Todd! But the record remains Page - 100%, Hixx - 0%. Not a stain on Hixx’s talent… That’s just how good Summer Page is. What a match!

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The smoke fills up with gray on the stage, as the arena lights flickers. Then once we see "The Rebellious One" on the X-Tron, then we hear the boom bap of 1999 on the the X-Tron itself. Then we see Reggie coming onto the stage with his hoodie on, and he shadow boxes infront of the camera and talkin smack as he walked down, then he gives the fans on the ramp some dap as he went to the ring. Then he simply sildes into it, and got up and taunted to the crowd with his fist up as his theme fades out.

Todd: And here comes one of the most notorious THUGZ on the XWF Roster- Reggie Estrada! A former X-treme Champion, 3 times over, Reggie Estrada comes to every match with just one intention: to cause as much mayhem and destruction as possible! JC Keeton had better watch out tonight!

Bama T: We’d all better watch out tonight, Todd! I only see one Thug headed to the ring, which means Reggie’s amigos are probably outside in the parking lot, stealing catalytic converters!

Todd: But the real question, Bama is: Can Reggie steal a win here tonight?

Bama T: A Thug like Reggie can steal anything he sets his mind to, Todd!



A deep bass rumble hits first—like the distant crack of a thunderstorm rolling over farmland. The screen flickers to life with vintage home video clips: grainy footage of a young JC in headgear wrestling in dusty high school gyms… riding horses… before fast-forwarding to JC lifting the IWF world title!

BLACK SCREEN.

A burst of golden-white pyro erupts from both sides of the entrance ramp!

JC KEETON bursts through the curtain with laser focus. He doesn’t slow down. No theatrics. No posturing. He walks with an athlete’s gait—loose shoulders, tight fists, jaw locked, eyes burning forward.

He doesn’t look left or right. Just straight down the aisle, headed straight for the ring.

Todd: And here comes JC Keeton! The former IWF World Champion in the flesh, JC Keeton has become a top star since making the jump to XWF Anarchy! He’s had battle after battle, and tonight, he has-

Bama T: Holy shit, Todd! Reggie Estrada isn’t waiting for the bell to ring: he’s already starting this match!

Sure enough, Bama’s right! As soon as JC Keeton slides into the ring, Reggie Estrada pounces on him after delivering a slew of vicious kicks! The referee tries to pull Reggie back, but it’s no use! THE THUG is deadset on starting this match early! He delivers a few elbows to the skull of JC Keeton, but after a few moments of violence, Keeton is able to push Reggie off of him!

That’s when the referee calls for the bell!!!

DING! DING! DING!



REGGIE ESTRADA
- vs -
JC KEETON

Singles


JC Keeton is already holding his bruised head by the time the bell rings. Reggie charges right back in, going for a big lariat: but Keeton sees it coming and ducks! JC Keeton charges towards the opposite ropes, bounces off them, and then comes running back towards Reggie Estrada!

Keeton runs right into a big boot from the Thug!

Reggie Estrada dominates the opening segment of the match, delivering a slew of boots to his grounded opponent before following up with a drop elbow! Then, Estrada starts putting his jiu jitsu to work. He mounts his downed opponent, and alternates between big blows to the head and attempts at submissions- but JC Keeton is too experienced, and too technical! After Reggie tries working Keeton into an armbar, JC is able to break free of the hold and scramble up to his feet!

Todd: This match has been all Reggie, all Estrada so far! But now, Keeton’s back on his fight: and he’s looking to shift the momentum!

Bama T: Keeton’s facing the Thuggish, Ruggish Reggie Estrada tonight, so it’s not going to be that easy!

As soon as Reggie rises, Keeton charges in and tries to hit him with a dropkick: but Reggie sidesteps the move! Keeton falls to the mat, eating nothing but canvass! Keeton quickly scrambles back to his feet and avoids a few haymakers from Reggie. Keeton tries to grab a hold of Reggie and take him to the mat with a double leg takedown slam, but Reggie’s been hitting the gym! Estrada sprawls out of the takedown attempt, delivering a few body shots to Keeton’s ribs to ward off future attempts. Nevertheless, Keeton remains determined, and grabs a hold of Reggie’s leg! JC tries to drive forward with Reggie’s leg to complete the takedown, but before he secure it, Reggie reaches out and grabs the ropes! The referee barks at Keeton to let go of Reggie, and he reluctantly agrees!

Todd: In a shocking twist, Reggie Estrada was just saved by the ropes!

Bama T: The dirtiest player in the game, taking advantage of all the rules while simultaneously breaking them whenever he wants! You love to see it!

The referee pushes JC Keeton back to give Reggie space…but Reggie takes advantage of this opportunity! With Keeton distracted by the referee’s interference, Estrada charges forward and knocks him loopy with a REG-KO! out of nowhere!

Bama T: RKO! RKO! Reggie just hit an RKO!

Todd: That dirty, no good THUG! He used the referee’s interference to his advantage, and managed to hit Keeton with one of the most powerful moves in all of sports entertainment!

The referee looks down in shock and horror, but has no choice but to count Reggie’s pinfall attempt!




1!












2!!!!







KICKOUT!!!!


Todd: I can’t believe, JC Keeton just kicked out! He’s still alive in this match!

Bama T: But Reggie’s looking to put him away here, you can take that to the bank!

Reggie slams the mat in frustration before turning to the referee and screaming at him for his slow count. Then, Reggie turns his focus back towards Keeton. Reggie curbstomps Keeton in the back of the skull, and a pool of blood begins leaking from JC’s head. But Reggie doesn’t stop there. Instead, Reggie grabs Keeton by his blood-stained hair, and lifts him up into position for a KILLSWITCH!

Then, Reggie hits his patented Azteca Sunrise!

The referee counts the pin!






1!


















2!!












3!!!!




Winner: Reggie Estrada


Reggie rises to his feet, drenched in sweat as the referee raises his arm in victory. JC Keeton rolls out of the ring, battered and bruised as Estrada charges towards the turnbuckle and climbs the ropes. Reggie celebrates his victory atop the turnbuckle, looking out towards all the fans in the arena, riling them up after his big win!

Bama T: What a statement win from Reggie Estrada! Many people saw him as the underdog here tonight, but he made short work of JC Keeton! Estrada just put the rest of the Anarchy roster on notice!

Todd: Reggie cheated at the beginning of the match, he bent the rules in the middle of the match, and then he got lucky with that Azteca Sunrise! Reggie just caught Keeton offguard tonight, Bama, but I suppose you’re right….if Estrada can do this to Keeton, he can do it to anyone!

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TODD: Folks, you may want to turn the brightness up on your screen… If you’re watching at night, you may want to wait until morning.

BAMA: Don’t be a wuss, Toddrick! This match will be fantastic and it will also CHILL TO YOUR VERY CORE!

TODD: Ahhhh!



A crow caws.

The lights flicker, as the anxiety-inducing first few chords of Dies Irae erupt across the stadium. As all lights center to the top of the stage, creating a path of light down to the ring. Fans erupt into screams, as the Inquisitor's faithful murder whip out their flashlights. The Inquisitor walks out onto the ramp, clad in his leather trench-coat, gloved hands in and full-black getup.

The eye-rings around his mask glint in the light, and you can almost feel him smile through it.

TODD: Inquisition! An inhuman monster of a creature wrought from the labyrinthine depths of the Earth!

BAMA: It makes me physically uncomfortable to look at him or listen to him! And he’s also a killer in the ring!

TODD: Also, maybe a killer regularly?!?

BAMA: It’s unclear, Bama!

With a sudden burst, he dashes down the ring, sliding under the third rope. Throwing his arms out to his side, and his head in the air, he breathes in the sweet sound of fear and adoration. His hands jerk to grasp their opposite shoulders, in a self-hug of sorts. Giving himself a quick squeeze, he runs his hands along his shoulders and across his throat like blades before turning to face his opponent.

…



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.

TODD: Speaking of horrifying monsters… Marisol Vilaro!

BAMA: She’s a business woman! The CEO of #VilaroFitness! The dean of Vilaro U, a for-profit college-like experience!

TODD: But she’s also among the deadliest creatures Black Rainbow has in their ranks!

BAMA: No doubt there, Toddrick! Mari was already top-tier Anarchy talent before she joined Black Rainbow… But ever since she joined BR, she’s been on another level. Absolutely dominant! She destroyed Latoya Hixx last Anarchy with three straight Vilaro suplexes!

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: Does the entrance have to be all of Shake It Off?

BAMA: It’s in her contract, Todd!

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: The official looks hesitant to speak to either of these nefarious characters…

BAMA: I don’t blame him, Toddy! If I were him, I wouldn’t ring the bell until I was safely backstage. I’d call this from the safety of a room with a locked door so neither of these creatures could get me!

DING DING!



MARISOL VILARO
- vs -
INQUISITION
Singles Match



Marisol’s nostrils flare as she circles the ring, sweat already glistening on her brow from a restless warm-up. She smirks—cocky, venomous—as she pounds her fist against her chest, pointing at Inquisition…

TODD: Vilaro is the peak of physical fitness! A conditioning maestro!

BAMA: If she chased you in an empty parking lot, you wouldn’t make it far…

TODD: …Bama, you could’ve just said she’s very fast.

BAMA: She is. If she wanted your life? You wouldn’t stand a chance of escaping, Toddrick.

TODD: …ehhhhhhhhhh.

With a sudden snap of her head, Vilaro’s eyes narrow!

She lunges forward.

Inquisition’s body tenses like a coiled spring! The moment Marisol surges forward with a gripple, he pivots, lips curling back ever so slightly as if savoring the incoming collision. He drops his weight low, catching her with a sudden spinning wrist lock and wrenching with cruel precision!

TODD: Oho! The first exchange goes Inquisition’s way! Very rare for Marisol not to open dominantly!

Inquisition, almost like a child toying with a defenseless animal, twists Marisol’s arm, as if testing it for durability… Seeing how much pressure would make it snap like a twig…

Marisol’s mouth twists into a snarl of fury, her body jerking with the pain, but her pride won’t allow a scream. Her free hand balls into a fist and she drives it like a hammer into Inquisition’s ribs!

ONE

TWO

THREE shots to the solarplexus!

Inquisition winces, his lips pressed tight, his shoulders hunching from the body shots—but there’s no hesitation. Instead his eyes flare wide, a twitch of madness breaking through, and he shoves her backward, whipping her into the ropes with a violent snap of his arm. Inquisition

Marisol rebounds, hair flying, her face alight with fiery defiance.  Inquisition’s expression sharpens, the faintest sneer betraying his contempt… He steels himself for Marisol’s return off the ropes…

She launches herself into the air, twisting mid-sprint into a…

HANDSPRING ELBOW!

…NO!

At the last second, Inquisition surges forward, catching Marisol mid-motion with an explosive …

CHARON’S CONSECRATION! (off-the-ropes Uranage!)

TODD: Oh my! Early power move by Inquisition connects!

BAMA: All that learning and studying seems to be paying off, Toddy! Inquisition seems to be crawling in Marisol’s brain like a tapeworm consuming her mind from within…

TODD: …Bama, I’m literally not going be able to sleep tonight if you keep doing this.

Inquisition falls on top of Vilaro’s hissing in her face as he hooked the leg…

ONE!

TW-NO!

Vilaro shoves Inquisition off defiantly before even the count of two!

Marisol crashes hard, her jaw slackening in shock as her back arches in pain. She pounds a fist into the mat, her eyes going wild with rage.

Inquisition scrambles to his feet! As Vilaro rises, he tears off a…

SPINNING HEEL KICK!

…But Vilaró ducks, doing a full matrix bridge under the flying monster! And Inquisition goes up and over, eating mat!

TODD: What a dodge by Marisol! The sheer athleticism!

BAMA: That’s #VilaroFit in action, baby! Did you know Vilaro U students get access to the entire VilaroFit library as part of their tuition? What a deal!

TODD: …Bama, a semester of college is *way* more expensive that a fitness program subscription.

Gritting her teeth, Vilaro kips up off the mat, grabbing at Inquisition’s ankle with desperate spite and twisting it into a vicious…

HEEL HOOK!

Inquisition’s stoic mask finally cracks—his eyes bulge, and his mouth twists into a silent snarl of anguish!

TODD: Devastating submission by Marisol! Can Inquisition escape?!? 

Inquisition claws at the mat, dragging himself inch by inch toward the ropes, veins popping at his temples.

The official hovers over the creature carefully asking if he can continue?

Marisol’s teeth flash in a triumphant grin as she wrenches tighter, her whole body shuddering with exertion…

Inquisition’s hand tremors…

It shakes…

Will he tap?

…NO!

Instead, Inquisition finally lunges forward, his fingers clutching the ropes.

TODD: Inquisition holds on!

BAMA: Which just lets Mari do her cool down exercises straight onto his throat!

Mari continues twisting Inquisitions’s heel, torturing the hellion… until the referee steps in, forcing the break!

Both competitors peel apart, glaring daggers through sweat-soaked strands of hair.

TODD: A brief moment of peace between these two… somehow, I don’t think it’s going to last.

BAMA: These two hellspawn don’t know the meaning of the word peace. Or mercy. Only pain.

Inquisition’s eyes narrow, jaw tight… when suddenly, he bursts off the ropes, his long limbs cutting through the air with raw, reckless energy!

His lips part just slightly, a faint hiss escaping like steam from the Forge itself…

He hurls himself forward…

SHOULDER BLOCK!

…Countered!

Marisol pivots sharply, her grin curling wicked as her arms snake down…

And catch the charging Inquisition’s chest! Mari propels him into the air! Inquisition’s feet leave the ground!

He soars up!

…

And comes down!

WHAM! Straight onto Mari’s swinging shoulder! A hellacious European uppercut!

TODD: What a strike by Mari! Inquisition looks dazed and confused!

Inquisition’s legs look like jelly under him after that uppercut to the skull… He hisses, possibly involuntarily… As Mari cranks her neck, like she’s preparing for a clean-and-jerk…

With a violent torque of her hips, she rips Inquisition into a front facelock… Aaaaaaaand…

SNAP SUPLEX!

TODD: My God! The sheer strength of Vilaro!

BAMA: And you can have that strength to you! For just $12,000 a semester in tuition…

Inquisition’s teeth clack together on impact, his face briefly contorting into a grimace as his body arches from the mat. His hand reaches instinctively to his lower back…

But before he can even rise, Marisol’s shadow looms over him.

Her face twists into a sneer of superiority as she drops down, cinching his legs into a…

TEXAS CLOVERLEAF!

TODD: Another life-sapping submissions hold by Mari! She’s trying to break Inquisition’s spirit!

BAMA: She’s trying to steal his soul in the name of the Black Rainbow… if that subterranean freak even has a hole…

Mari applies increasing torque, twisting Inquisition’s spine against itself… Every pull of the hold is punctuated by her eyes closing and her head tilting back, as if basking in her own magnificence!

Inquisition’s face is stone but his lips peel back to reveal clenched teeth…. His fingertips scratch furiously at the canvas, muscles quivering…

TODD: This could be it! The ropes are too far away for Inq to bre-

…Suddenly, Mari releases the hold!

TODD: …What the?!? I thought Mari had Inq right where she wanted him…

BAMA: Like I said, Mari doesn’t want Inquisition to tap-out. She wants to break him. She wants to OWN his spirit.[/blue]

Marisol grins with mocking, cruel delight, crawling alongside the broken Inquistion… only to sprawl across his chest, wrenching his arm into a…

CROSS ARMBREAKER!

Her free hand flexes, bicep popping, as she smirks to the crowd…

TODD: My word! How dominant is Marisol Vilaro!

…Vilaro’s showboating… infuriates Inquisition…

Inquisition… like a rat in a trap…

His body goes elastic! He slips out! And he grasps a shocked Mari’s wrist in turn!

TODD: What an escape by Inquisition! This one’s not over yet!

Inquisition’s legs kick upward, coil tight, and he whips his weight with ruthless speed—yanking Marisol off-balance…

TORNADO DDT!

TODD: Tornado DDT! From outta nowhere!

BAMA: But can he capitalize? Can the boy from the dark claw his way back to the light?

Inquisition staggers upright, chest heaving, eyes burning with the wild fire of the Forge.

Vilaro… blinking like the mask of dominance has cracked… stumbles into the corner, grabbing the ropes to hold herself up…

Inquisition bares his teeth and lets out a sharp hiss, charging forward with his arms wide, aiming to crush Marisol into the turnbuckles with a savage…

CORNER SPLASH!

…NO!

Marisol’s body snapping into motion at the last heartbeat, slipping sideways, hair whipping behind her!

Inquisition’s chest SMASHES brutally into the pads!

TODD: Once more, the lightning fast Inquisition isn’t used to an opponent that can match his lightning quick reflexes!

BAMA: I don’t know if that freak’s face has a mouth, but if he does, he just ate a heaping helping of turnbuckle pad…

Inquisition’s jaw goes slack, his face twisting with shock as the wind rushes out of him. He reels backward, dizzy, his hiss breaking into a ragged cough, leaning back against the turnbuckle!

Marisol’s lips curl into a venomous smile as she cartwheels into motion, hands hitting the canvas with perfect precision before she springs upward. Her body snaps into the air like a whip…

CRACK! Vilaró Experience! (handspring elbow!)

Inquisition stumbles away from the corner, eyes glassy, arms flailing as though the ground beneath him has vanished.

Marisol doesn’t hesitate. She snarls, grabs him by the head, and latches in a crushing front facelock. Her muscles flex, her jaw clenches, and with a guttural cry she hoists him high—before driving him down with bone-snapping perfection…

VILARÓIZER!

[blue]BAMA: BALLGAME!

She bridges with pristine form, her back arched, teeth bared as the referee dives down.


ONE!



TWO!



TH-REE!

Winner: Marisol Vilaró


[blueTODD: It’s over! Marisol Vilaró just outlasted the Inquisition, and what a war they waged!

BAMA: Say what you will, Todd—freak boy fought like hell itself, but in the end, the devil with the better body won. Praise be to Marisol Vilaró.[/blue]

Marisol rises, still holding her perfect bridge until the last possible second, before breaking and standing tall, arms flexed, every ounce of her dripping confidence broadcast for the world to see.

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XWF RELENTLESS IX
THE MAC DADDY OF ‘EM ALL

WATCH ALL THREE NIGHTS and NEVER feel the need to witness another nano-second of Wrestling again - because the best you will EVER SEE IN YOUR LIFETIME WILL HAPPEN LIVE! ON XWF RELENTLESS — Streaming FREE* only on: XWF99.com!

*Free with a miniscule, but legally, ethically, and morally binding 1,289-month subscription to the XWF X-STREAMing Service™ 
– Requires all 1,289 months of your current subscription to be paid in advance and your next 1,289 month subscription prepaid even before that! – 
*Otherwise it’s $29.99 for all three nights and you. will. like. it.
Did you see the other champion's reflections in Dolly’s glasses? Look again!

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TODD: I don’t know about you, Bama. But I for one am excited-

BAMA: Let me stop you right there, Todderick. You do know about me. You know we’re both excited as hell for the 9th edition of Relentless. It’s three whole nights, our biggest show of the damn year!

TODD: With Dolly Waters and Micheal Graves leading us in as our top champions, and with Sebastian Everett-Bryce holding the briefcase, Charlie Nickles lying in wait… and of course, the rise and emergence of stars like Sarah Wolf and Dickie Watson to account for!

BAMA: This one is going to be huge across the board, Todd. There won’t be one moment of downtime in the entire three-night stretch.

TODD: Perhaps our biggest Relentless yet!



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: Oh sweet Jesus, not this loon again!

Todd: That’s not just any loon, Bama! That’s Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing, and he’s become something of a fan-favorite amongst the I-W-C!

Bama T: The IWC? What the hell is that, some indie mudshow company?!

Todd: I’m not entirely sure, Bama: but Sir Pennyfarthing is adamant that the people love him there!



“Dreams of a Lullaby” plays, and as her music swells, Celestine stumbles onto the stage, dragging a massive canvas behind her. Her body jerks unnaturally as though seized by a spirit, shades of a possession. She begins speed-painting in a frenzy, daubing wild strokes with brushes, bare hands, and even blown snot from her nose. She growls, chants, sometimes laughing, sometimes weeping. By the time she reaches the ring, the canvas is revealed: a horrific foretelling of her opponent mangled, ruined, disfigured. She lays the painting gently against the ring like a tombstone.

Bama T: That’s witchcraft right there!

Todd: It’s Black Magic, for sure!

Bama T: It looks like she’s going to mangle, ruin, and disfigure that loon she’s in there with!

Todd: I’m not sure the odds are high for Lionel to survive this one…

DING! DING! DING!



CELESTINE GALE
- vs -
SIR LIONEL PENNYFARTHING

Singles


As the bell rings, Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing steps back and places his hand atop his chest, as if in shock. He says a few words to the referee about the ritualistic imagery from Celestine’s entrance, but the referee just shrugs his shoulders! Sir Lionel then drops down to his knees as he looks up at the referee with pleading eyes. Lionel clasps his hands together as he begs the referee to call off this match, or to at least prevent Celestine from using any ritualistic magic!

But it’s no use!

The referee just shrugs Pennyfarthing off!

Todd: It looks like Sir Lionel is trying to make some sort of deal with the referee!

Bama T: Deal?! Todd, he’s pleading for his life with the referee right now! I don’t think Sir Lionel wants to be in that ring with the witch!

After the referee rejects his pleas, Sir Lionel has no choice but to stand up and face his foe! As a nervous bead of sweat rolls down Lionel’s face, he starts to look across the ring…only to find that Celestine Gale isn’t there.

Instead, Celestine is right behind Pennyfarthing!

Bama T: Wait, what the hell?! How’d she get across the ring so fast?!

Todd: I swear it’s like she teleported!

Lionel takes a few steps forward towards the center of the canvas, completely unaware of his opponent’s location directly behind him. Celestine follows Lionel one step at a time, her silent presence foreboding a dark future for the Sir. Once Lionel reaches the center of the ring, he looks out at the crowd for help- but the audience is shocked into silence.

As if the members of the crowd were under some sort of hypnosis!

When Lionel finally turns around, he sees Celestine Gale standing directly behind him!

Lionel drops down to his knees and pleads for mercy!

Sir Lionel’s facial gestures make his sorrow and anguish clear to the back of the arena!

Todd: Well, this is starting to get pathetic…

Bama T: What do you want him to do, Todd?!?! Wrestle the witch?! He’s better off begging for her mercy! You can call Lionel Pennyfarthing a lot of names, Todd- but you can’t call him stupid!

Todd: I didn’t call him stupid- I called him pathetic!

Bama T: Well then…you won’t get any argument from me!

As Lionel pleads for mercy from a kneeling position, Celestine looks him up and down with a ponderous expression…as if she were actually considering his pleas.

But that brief consideration ends when Celestine delivers a gliding roundhouse kick with toe-pointed artistry right to Lionel’s face!

Pennyfarthing collapses against the mat in pain, his screams of woe echoing through the arena!

Pennyfarthing starts crawling towards the ropes, desperate for a rope break after just one blow…

But alas, it is not to be!

Celestine leaves her feet, dropping onto Pennyfarthing with a posing elbow drop after freezing mid-air for a second!

Bama T: Witchcraft! That’s witchcraft, I tell you!

Todd: Whatever it is, Bama: it seems to be working!

After the vicious elbow drop to Lionel’s back, Celestine grabs Pennyfarthing’s leg and delivers a Leg-trap surfboard with a back arch!

The crowd stands completely still, remaining silent as a mouse, everyone swaying from side to side- as if transfixed by some sort of hex!

But Celestine Gale doesn’t stop there. As Pennyfarthing regains his senses and starts crawling towards the ropes one more time, Celestine Gale delivers a big boot right between his shoulder blades!

Then, Celestine keeps her boot pressed into Pennyfarthing’s back for an uncomfortable amount of time. She eyes the injured man up and down for nearly a minute with a ritualistic look in her eye.

After Celestine tires of holding Lionel still, she picks her foot up just to deliver a nasty curbstomp right to the back of his skull!

With Lionel’s lights already knocked out, Celestine grabs the man by his neck and lifts him into a standing position without breaking a sweat. Celestine places Lionel into a modified sleeper hold with a swaying rhythm. The microphones near the ring pick up the sound of Celestine singing “Nowhere Over The Rainbow” into Lionel’s ear, like some sort of sick lullaby.

The referee asks Sir Lionel if he wants to tap out, but Lionel doesn’t respond!

Lionel can’t respond, because he’s completely lost consciousness!

The referee has no choice but to call for the bell!

Winner by Technical Knockout - Celestine Gale


As soon as the bell rings, Celestine lets Lionel’s body drop to the mat like a sack of sorry potatoes. Celestine stares down at her defeated foe with cold and calculating eyes. The referee approaches Celestine to raise her hand, but she simply stares into the referee’s soul, causing him to completely freeze in place.

Then, Celestine exits the ring, and walks up the stage. As she walks up the ramp, her body jerks unnaturally as though seized by a spirit, shades of a possession. She growls, chants, sometimes laughing, sometimes weeping as the audience remains frozen in hypnosis.

Todd: What a dominant victory for Celestine Gale here tonight! She completely destroyed Lionel Pennyfarthing, and may in fact have snatched his soul as well! It’s unclear!

Bama T: …..

Todd: Bama?

Bama T: ….

Todd: Oh this isn’t good folks…Bama, are you ok?!

Bama T: ….

Todd: We’ll have to cut away for a few minutes, folks, but we’ll be back soon with more action-packed wrestling!

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Anarchy Tag-Team #1 Contendership

Matthias Syn & Charlie Nickles
- vs -
The Money Titans
Thias Watts & Mr. Oz




THE MONEY TITANS, Oswald and Thias Watts, hit the stage as soon as their entrance music begins playing. The crowd has a mixed reaction to the reunited Titans, with some fans booing the big-men while others cheer for their favorite tag-team. Oz and Thias ignore the fans staged near the ramp, clearly hyper-focused on their impending match. When the Titans reach the ring, they climb into it over the top-rope, then they wait patiently for The Corporation to come meet their makers.

Bama T: And here come three thousand pounds of roided-up rage! THE MONEY TITANS are back, live in action here on XWF Anarchy!

Todd: The Money Titans were a dominant tag-team on Thursday Nights, but after Oswald viciously attacked Thias, many thought that this tag-team dream was dead!

Bama T: But now, they’ve put their differences aside and re-united!

Todd: That’s right, Bama’! And they plan on putting the XWF tag division on notice!



The first drumbeat of a new theme song rumbles through the Jim Norick Arena, shaking the building’s worn-out walls! Fog creeps along the makeshift ramp as strobe lights hit the crowd from above, so below!

“I won’t lieeee, it’s quite tempting- your handouts, and your bones.”

That’s when they appear: the stars of the show! CHARLIE NICKLES and MATTHIAS SYN, flanked by the one and only Dwyane “THE GROK” Johnson!

“I won’t lieeee, they’re quite empty- your promises, and your stones.”

Charlie Nickles steps through the haze of fog first, wearing a black three-piece suit tailored perfectly to his pudgy body. His polished shoes catch on every single strobe light as he makes his way down the ramp. A devious grin spreads across Nickleman's lips as he runs a hand through his slicked-back hair.

“If you sell, they’ll buy! Don’t feel, just sign!”

Just behind him Matthias Syn follows, adjusting his tie as “The Grok” conducts audio-visual surveillance for any rebels in the crowd. “The Grok” quickly identifies Peter Gilmour in the crowd, jamming out to the Maria Brink song, and he immediately calls for security to escort Gilly back to Banishment Island!

“If you sell, they’ll buy! Don’t think, stay blind!

Charlie walks gracefully up the steel steps, entering the ring with a microphone in hand as Matthias Syn slides into the ring under the bottom rope. “The Grok” posts up like a security guard outside the ring, continuing to survey the crowd for any signs of dissidence.

“GIVE ME THE CONTROOOOLLL!

JUST SIGN ON THE DOTTED LIIIIINNEE!”

The crowd jeers, but The Corporation doesn’t flinch. Charlie lifts his microphone to his lips as the entrance music trails off. With Syn still in the ring beside him, Charlie stares directly at The Money Titans.

“Oz, Thias!

Gentlemen…you were told that you would have to fight tonight. You were told that you needed to earn your shot at the Anarchy Tag Team Championships. You were told that you had to battle tooth-and-nail against The Corporation just to get ahead in this business…..but Brothers, trust me when I say: that’s the old way.

The weak way.

The fool’s way.”

Oz and Thias look at each other with a mixture of confusion and bewilderment. They came to the arena tonight prepared for a fight….but what was all this talking about?

“I came here tonight to tell you face-to-face, man-to-man….The Corporation doesn’t have to be your enemy. Not anymore. Now that I’m at the helm, we get to do things differently around here!”

The crowd jeers, but The Money Titans cock their heads with curiosity.

“I am the Acting General Manager of this company! And that means no more backroom deals, no more golden calves! No longer will the fatcats and bigwigs cherry pick their favorites and hand them opportunity after opportunity.

Now, I get to be the one who decides what is earned, what is deserved, and who is handed greatness on a silver platter!

And you, fine gentlemen….are about to be handed greatness.”

Charlie looks back towards Matthias Syn as he gestures to the Money Titans. Syn reaches into his blazer, and pulls out two one-page contracts. Syn crosses the ring, where a skeptical pair of giants hesitantly take a look at the documents.

“And all you have to do is stand beside me. Stand beside Syn. Stand beside The Corporation that made us who we are!

This is your chance to become more than mere mortals. This is your chance to become….

The Corporate Titans!”

The crowd boos as Oz and Thias look shocked by the offer.

“Just sign your names on the dotted line, and you will become #1 Contenders to the Anarchy tag-team championships at Relentless! Guaranteed! Signed, sealed, and delivered courtesy of your Acting General Manager!”

Oswald calls for a microphone from the ring announcer themselves, and yanks it from their hand as they try to deliver it to him. Mic in hand, he then speaks

“Charlie, you and I, we’ve had our differences, haven’t we? You’ve always been a man, to me, that just does whatever the hell he wants. Now? I see that you, like me, have quite the mind for business. Shit, I never envisioned you as a businessman. So I want you to know, that If there’s one thing that Oswald does, if there’s one thing Thias does-”

Both of them speak at the same time in the same mic

“WE STAND ON BIDNESS!”

Oz and Thias sign their names on the dotted line, officially joining The Corporation!

NO CONTEST!

NEW ANARCHY TAG TITLE NUMBER ONE CONTENDER: THE CORPORATE TITANS


“XWF, welcome to the time of Brand Loyalty. To the era of Corporate takeovers. Welcome us, the Corporate Titans, as we demolish our opponents. While I love these boys, Them No Good Bastards, when we take you on and take your titles away? All I can say is that this is what truly is best for business.”

Then Charlie’s gaze drops to the referee, who is trying to intervene and ensure that the match carries on as scheduled. Charlie’s voice darkens, deadly serious as he turns his focus towards the referee.

“And you… I saw you.

You’re working part-time in Pro Wrestling Valor, aren’t you? Working for the competition. The audacity. The nerve. Who’s side are you on in this battle, huh, Mr. Pinstripes?

You are about to learn what happens when you defy the Corporation.

You are about to learn the cost of your disloyalty!”

Syn moves with the precision of a predator, Charlie following. The referee has no chance. Fists, boots, and elbows rain down. After the referee is on the ground, Charlie pulls Syn back- and gestures for The Corporate Titans to finish the job.

Oz steps in with a smile, lifting the referee high into the air! Then, Thais charges in and knees the referee right in the jaw as they’re falling to the mat! Then, Oz catches the referee and finishes them with a Northern Lights Suplex!

The rest of The Corporation just laughs in mockery of the referee’s suffering.

The arena erupts in chaos. The crowd screams, some horrified, some ecstatic. The Corporate Titans stand tall, Charlie and Syn flanking them as “The Grok” slides into the ring for the final frame. The referee lies motionless, The Corporation's unmistakable message written in blood.

Todd: Oh my GOD, I can’t believe it! The Corporation just brutalized the referee!

Bama T: I can’t believe it either, Todd! That referee was pulling double-duty, and selling our trade secrets to Pro Wrestling Valor!

Todd: Are we even sure that’s true?! Can we get a fact checker on that?!

Bama T: No fact checkers needed, baby! The Corporation never lies!

Todd: Someone get that referee some help! We need to take a quick commercial break to get the ref some attention- we’ll be right back with more action after this message from our sponsors!

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TODD: This next match is overstuffed with talent!

BAMA: And intrigue, Toddrick! A feud is brewing between two of these competitors over one of their actions toward the other’s husbands! SPICY! Some Days of Our Lives stuff out here!



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. Half way down, he spreads his hands apart and reaches out both arms in T-Pose as he crouches, sauntering down the rest of the ramp toward the ring.

TODD: The mysterious XXXVI! He’s been dominant on Anarchy as of late… stacking up wins over Frances Marigold *and* Mister Oz! That sort of dominance is what’s secured his spot as the Revolution Title Number One Contender!

BAMA: Certainly impressive, Toddy boy! But with victories come an upgrade in opponents! He’s facing two top-tier talents, one of whom is an XWF LEGEND…

TODD: Atara is certainly wrestling royalty! One of the most beloved competitors to ever grace the blue and black ropes! An-

BAMA: I was talking about Preston Vanderlay Esquire!

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.

…



The honeyed rasp of Atara's voice blares over the facility's PA in unison with those words appearing on the multitude of screens and displays littering the arena.

HELLO DOVES

The crowd pops and gets to their feet shouting in near total unison a single word.

OPA!

Arena lights start to pulse in time with the music and multiple vertical streams of pyro erupt across the front of stage. Strutting with purpose Atara emerges from the back taking spot centerstage atop the ramp. Posing for the camera, a wink and kiss is given to the viewers at home.

TODD: Atara Raven! One of the most talented competitors to grace Anarchy!

BAMA: To Preston’s point, she came up WELL short against Larry Tact!

TODD: But earlier this year, Bama! She pulled off a major victory, derailing the previously undefeated X-Treme champion, Dominic Strife! The fact of the matter is, when Atty has something in her sights, there’s almost no one better. And you better believe Atty has Preston Vanderlay Esquire locked in her sights after he DESTROYED James Raven’s bust and inscription in the XWF Hall of Legends!

Grunge walking to the ringsteps, she climbs and stops at the top to posture again for her adoring public. Hand on her hip, the Grecian moves to the middle of the apron to blows a final kiss to the camera and enters the ring through the middle rope.

…



“Paper Planes” by M.I.A. hits the speakers. The arena blacks out completely as a cold robotic voice echoes: “Please stand by for a priority broadcast from the office of Preston Vanderlay Esquire… Wrestling’s Wealthiest Winner.”

A massive golden “V” lights up on the titantron. Suddenly, the curtain parts, not for Preston, but for two identically dressed male attendants in tuxedos, who roll out an absurdly long red carpet lined with gold trim, leading all the way to ringside. They are followed by a fog machine team in full uniform, blasting synthetic mist infused with a $700 designer cologne.

The beat drops, and the words “Take your money” pulse with the lights, right as a custom-built gold-plated luxury mobility throne rises from beneath the stage. Reclining in it like a Roman emperor is Preston Vanderlay Esquire, draped in a white silk trench coat with golden lapels, his sunglasses gleaming with his initials etched on them.

He’s not alone. Flanking him on each side in slow, synchronized choreography are his disciples Briggs Wellington, Dashford Luxe, and Regan Vale.

Briggs Wellington stomps down first, arms crossed, cracking his neck, dressed in an emerald suit-vest over tactical gear. Dashford Luxe flips onto the ramp out of nowhere, striking a pose midair before moonwalking partway down like he’s dancing through stock options. Regan Vale walks while cracking knuckles that are clad in black leather gloves. Her eyes are wild and yearning.

As Preston’s throne glides forward on a hidden track, attendants throw faux stock certificates and shredded cease-and-desist orders into the crowd like confetti. Gold sparks rain from the ceiling while a voiceover plays: “Introducing the undisputed architect of all victory… Wrestling’s one true trust fund tactician… PRESTON. VANDERLAY. ESQUIRE.”

BAMA: Here he is! The undefeated XWF Legend! Preston Vanderlay Esquire!

TODD: He wrestled one match! And HE didn’t even actually compete! Regan Vale narrowly defeated ‘Midnight’ Michael Saint, after interference from PVE!

BAMA: The official recordbooks says, Preston Vanderlay Esquire, 1-0! And he’s in the Hall of Legends!

TODD: …Very controversially, after somewhat mysterious, shady dealings with our piece-of-shit General Manager Jimmy Dumbfuck Stars… Preston Vanderly Esquire not only installed his own bust in the Hall of Legends, but destroyed two busts to do it! Lee Stone AND “The People’s GOAT” James Raven… Atara’s husband and multi-time Universal champion! Atty’s made it very, very clear… she plans on taking a pound of flesh for every pound of marble resembling her husband that PVE destroyed!

At ringside, a plush ottoman step unit is rolled into place. Preston stands, slowly removes his jacket, and hands it to an assistant like it’s a crown jewel. His disciples form a loose triangle behind him as he ascends the stairs one step at a time, pausing on the apron to scan the crowd with visible disdain.

Inside the ropes, Dashford lounges in the corner like a smug hype man, Briggs looms with arms raised and flexed, and Regan paces slowly in a circle like a predator. Preston raises one hand to his temple, smiles like he just closed a billion-dollar deal, and steps to the center as fireworks go off indoors.

After a few more seconds of the crowd booing the fuck out of him, Preston activates his Freebird Rule clause and selects one of his three student-diciples to fight for him.

…

This time going with…

Dashford Luxe!

TODD: Dashford Luxe! Definitely the flashiest of PVE’s menagerie of freebird talent! What do you think went into Preston’s decision to send Luxe against Raven and XXXVI?

BAMA: This one’s already in the bag, Toddrick! Mister Vanderlay Esquire is sending in the man that’ll win with the most style points!

…Luxe rolls into the ring, flexing an arm and winking at Atty…

…Atara does not take her eyes from PVE, who is surrounded on both sides by Regan and Briggs…

The official signals to the timekeeper!

DING DING!



Atara Raven
- vs -
Preston Vanderlay Esquire
- vs -
(Revolution #1 Contender)
XXXVI

Triple Threat Match


The moment the bell rings, Atty storms forward… her body coiled to explode…

Toward the ropes at Preston!

TODD: Oh my! It looks like Atty is more interest in taking this scrap to Preston than the man Preston selected to face her!

BAMA: Brilliant! That’s Preston’s plan paying dividends! Mind games! Taking his opponent off their game!

TODD: I think that only works if Preston ISN’T at rest of getting his head kicked off, Bama!

Atty scrambles for the ropes, almost instinctively, Briggs and Regan move up to block Atty with their bodies… Preston grins from behind the safety of his hired muscle, waving over the top of their heads.

As this goes on between Atty and Preston… XXXVI tilts their masked head, sensing Atara’s split focus. Their posture lowers into a stalking crouch…

TODD: It looks like XXXVI smells Atty’s focus is off the match… and senses the time to strike is now!

BAMA: Preston may have insulted them both, but there’s no allies in a triple threat match!

Atara shouts several sharp Greek curses, trying to climb through the ropes to att-

WHAM!

With a sudden burst of motion, XXXVI strikes from the side, hammering Atara with a stinging…

CHOP BLOCK TO THE BACK OF THE KNEE!

TODD: ooooof, ugly attack to Atty’s leg!

BAMA: As ugly as it is effective, Toddrick!
Atara winces, her body buckling, hand clutching her leg as she grimaces…

XXXVI scoops her up by the scruff of the neck, looking for a front facelock… When Atty throw his arms down, breaking the lock… And breaks out a series of right jabs, straight to XXXVI’s jaw!

TODD: Atty firing back with fiery fists! That Pankration, greek boxing style rocking XXXVI around the ring!

BAMA: Crazy move by XXXVI! Even I’d know better than to get between Atty and Preston tonight!
Dashford Luxe, meanwhile, leans casually in the corner, smirking with a self-satisfied tilt of the head. He stretches lazily across the turnbuckles, arms out wide, soaking in the scene as though watching theater from the best seat in the house.

TODD: Dashford Luxe taking this opportunity to sit back and work on his tan under XWF’s stage lights!

BAMA: Why throw yourself in the feeling out scrap? Let both of the people you have to beat tire each other out scrapping! Dashford is a GENIUS! Which by extension, makes Preston a BIGGER GENIUS for picking him!

XXXVI eventually raises his arms, blocking the blows rocking his jaw… Getting backed into the ropes
Atara’s fury drives her! With an explosive heave of emotion and muscle, she Irish whips XXXVI across the ring…

Wait! No! She rotates the whip and drives him from the center of the ring…

Toward Dashford Luxe’s corner!

TODD: Hell hath no fury like Atara Raven! And she’s using XXXVI as a battering ram to break down the defenses around Preston Vanderlay Esquire!

Luxe’s eyes widen as a masked man is suddenly hurtling towards him… He’s caught off-guard!

WHAM!

XXXVI’s back collides with Dashford Luxe in the corner.

Dashford’s smug grin falters, leaning back against the turnbuckle! XXXVI rebounds off Luxe, staggering backwards toward the center of the ri-

WHAM! From behind, Atty unleashes a…

SHOTGUN DROPKICK! Raven blasts XXXVI back into the corner! And Luxe gets blasted by XXXVI once more, collapsing onto the mat beside the corner!

TODD: Atara is STEAM-ROLLING the competition right now!

BAMA: …Just a little rope-a-dope, Toddy! Dashford’s letting Atty tire herself out! We’ll catch ‘em in the next half!

Luxe shakes off cobwebs, scooping himself off the mat… at the same time, XXXVI does the same…
The moment they meet eyes, XXXVI grabs Luxe’s shoulders and springs off the mat, leaping onto Luxe, seeking a…

HURRICANRANA!

…

But Luxe resists, by grabbing the ropes!

BAMA: High IQ play by Dashford Luxe! He’s done getting pummeled and he’s ready to turn this one around!

XXXVI is in no man’s land now… Luxe pops XXXVI off his shoulder! XXXVI lands on his feet…

Luxe latches around XXXVI’s breastbone, standing switches, spinning XXXVI toward facing the ring’s center… Aaaaaaand…

BEAUTIFUL T-BONE SUPLEX! XXXVI goes flying through the air, colliding like a heap on his head and shoulders!

Dashford kips up, brushing invisible dust off his hands with a cocky flourish, his smirk sliding back into place as if the danger had never existed.

Preston claps approvingly from the floor, his cufflinks glinting, patting Briggs and Regan to get behind him, so he can maximize his camera time…. PVE points at Dashford, shouting praise, his arrogant grin wide enough to draw the crowd’s boos!

BAMA: That’s what I’m talking about, baby! Poetry in motion! As exquisite as it is dominant! That’s PVE in action!

TODD: HE’S NOT EVEN IN ACTION, BAMA! PVE has been standing outside the ring this whole match! Where he always is!

…From behind, Atara sizes up an opportunity… She sprints toward the ropes. Dashford turns toward his employer, basking in the glow of approval…

But from behind, Preston starts shouting at him to watch out!

Dashford spins around as Atty, fury etched in every fiber of her face, spears herself toward him!

TODD: Atty’s on the warpath! And Dashford is directly in her way!

As Atty charges in, shoulder first…

Dashford pivots into a cartwheel on instinct, sliding out of the way with a smug flick of his hair! PVE breathes a sigh of relief, delivering a small gasp!

…Wait! Atty’s still going!

TOWARD PVE!

Raven’s body sails through the ropes, hair streaming behind her!

Preston’s smug clapping turns to horror! Briggs and Regan shift in alarm, going to cover their boss…

TOO LATE! SUICIDE DIVE SPEAR THROUGH ALL THREE!

TODD: YES! ATARA RAVEN JUST TOOK OUT PRESTON VANDERLAY ESQUIRE AND HIS ENTIRE ENTOURAGE!

BAMA: That’s assault! That’s a guaranteed future lawsuit! You can’t touch the Architect of Victory like that!

PVE and his hired hands explode in different directions, Atara obliterating them! Her eyes flare with vengeance as she raises an arm to the crowd!

OPA!

OPAAAAAAA! The crowd calls back!

Dashford Luxe spins around, his smirk wiped clean, eyes darting in panic as he sees Preston sprawled on the outside, surrounded by wreckage. He bolts for the ropes, arms pumping as instinct drives him to his employer’s aid…

…But XXXVI’s arms suddenly snap around Luxe’s waist from behind. Dashford’s eyes go wide, he throws a wild elbow!

XXXVI ducks! Luxe’s arms flailing as he’s ripped off his feet and hurled back with a thunderous…

BELLY-TO-BELLY SUPLEX!

Dashford’s body arches and he collapses to the mat, clutching his neck as XXXVI folds into the cover, shoulders pressed tight.

TODD: What a move by XXXVI! And all of a sudden, PVE looks in trouble! Both his hired representative and himself! Could this be PVE’s first loss?

BAMA: No! This can’t count! How can you consider it a loss for PVE when he isn’t even getting pinned!

TODD: That’s how his freebird contract works, Bama!

BAMA: …KICK OUT, DASHFORD!

XXXVI rolls into a cover…

ONE!

TWO!

THR-NO!

Luxe jerks his shoulder free, eyes squeezed shut, his chest heaving as relief washes over his face.

XXXVI scrambles back to a vertical base, looking to resume the attack… But Dashford latches onto the ropes, coughing and clutching his back. The official breaks up the action, giving Luxe a five-count to breathe!

TODD: Another bit of technical prowess on display from Dashford Luxe inside the ring… Meanwhile outside, PVE looks like he’s in trouble at the hands of Mrs. James Raven!

Indeed, outside, Preston Vanderlay claws at the floor, suit wrinkled, eyes wide with sheer indignation… He barks out, directing traffic, demanding Briggs or Regan come help him up…

A hand grasps Preston’s… He’s lifted back onto his feet.

…And face-to-face with Atara Raven.

PVE’s face goes white with fear as Raven grins sadistically.

TODD: Think PVE is regretting that unflattering Atara statue yet, Bama?

PVE… straightens his tie…

And makes a break for it! Trying to run!

…But Atara’s reflexes are too fast! She grabs PVE by the ankle, PVE eats pad outside the ring!

TODD: Atty’s about to PUNISH Preston!

Raven drags PVE across the ringside mats, her lips curled into a furious snarl. Preston flails, hands clawing at the padded concrete, cufflinks glinting as his cries grow shrill, but Atara’s rage carries him inexorably toward the timekeeper’s chair.

Preston kicks at her hands, briefly breaking her grip! But Atara seizes PVE by his collar… and points to the crowd…

TODD: Oh my! I think Atty’s planning on tossing Preston over the railing and into the first row!

BAMA: Into commonfolk!?! Everyone in this arena combined doesn’t have PVE’s net worth OR business acumen!

TODD: Well, they’re about to up close and personal with the supposed “XWF Legend”!

Preston’s face contorts into sheer horror, his head shakes back and forth, pupils shrinking in terror at the thought of mingling with the masses!

Atty smiles with vengeful glee, as she cups an ear for the crowd who scream for PVE to come join them…

As Atara milks the moment, by the ringpost outside, Regan Vale begins to stir, pushing up onto her knees!

Atara goes to spin, ready to launch Preston!

…But Regan dives to break up the toss! She launches herself forward with a Lou Thesz press, crashing into Atara, pinning her shoulders against the padding outside!

TODD: Aw nuts! Regan Vale makes the save, narrowly sparing her employer the fate of briefly being in contact with the XWF Universe!

BAMA: THANK GOD FOR REGAN VALE!

Both women tumble to the floor, fists flying. Atara’s eyes narrow in sharp focus, her lips pulling back in a battle-snarl as she drives stiff pankration strikes into Regan’s ribs and face, the precision of her heritage cutting through the chaos. Regan reels, arms flailing defensively, but her grit refuses to let her fold, lobbing blows back at Raven’s ribs, trying to slow the Greek Goddess down!

…Meanwhile, Preston, near the timekeeper’s table, straightening his tie with trembling fingers, walking back toward the ring…

Briggs by the barricade shakes off cobwebs, still rocked by Atara’s suicide dive! PVE snaps his fingers, demanding his employee rise!

TODD: PVE taking this opportunity where Atara is occupied to try and make moves!

BAMA: Time is money after all!

Briggs groggily rises, as PVE whispers into his ear with venomous urgency. Briggs nods once, expression empty, before side-stepping up to the apron…

Inside, XXXVI has been working Dashford with a series on grounded strikes and submissions, holding him in an extended Romero special, as Luxe narrowly hooks an ankle on the bottom rope!

TODD: Aphrodite Incarnate, Atara Raven, may be dominating the outside the ring… but inside, XXXVI might be making the moves to steal a huge victory! A win tonight would provide incredible momentum for the Revolution Title #1 contender as Relentless looms!

XXXVI scoops Luxe by the scruff of the neck, and shoves him back against the corner!

“Alphabet Boy” as PVE dubbed him, executes a…

SLINGSHOT IRISH WHIP!

Dashford’s is HUCKED across the ring, spine SMACKING off the turnbuckle pads, his body staggering back, arms limp at his sides as his eyes glaze over!

TODD: Oooof, major damage! XXXVI is in total control!

XXXVI’s body coils like a serpent, seizing the moment. They snake behind Luxe, wrap their arms around Luxe’s neck, locking him into a…

THIRD EYE BLIND! (dragon sleeper!)

TODD: This could be it! XXXVI has Luxe, center of the ring!

Dashford flails, panic etched into every frantic movement, his mouth open in a silent cry as XXXVI contorts him backward, dragging him to the canvas… Luxe keeps his legs stiff as he whips his body back and forth, trying to break XXXVI’s grip!

TODD: Luxe, the wiley veteran, knows how critical it is to avoid being taken to the mat in a Dragon Sleeper! But XXXVI has it LOCKED IN!

Suddenly, from the outside, Preston rockets onto the apron, his face red with fury. He points furiously at the brawl outside between Atara and Regan, as the two women roll, wildly punching and jockeying for control!

BAMA: PVE, concerned for his employee! Pleading with the official to restore some order!

The referee spins to the outside where Atara and Regan claw at one another, attention stolen.

That’s the moment Briggs Wellington slides into the ring like a shadow, his face still blank but his massive hands clenching into fists. He looms behind XXXVI…

TODD: …No! Subterfuge is afoot!

XXXVI’s body trembles with exertion as they wrench back on the dragon sleeper, unaware of the danger… Luxe’s legs begin to soften under him… XXXVI’s about to kick out Dashford’s legs and drag him to the mat!

When Briggs’ lunges, scooping XXXVI up by the scruff of their neck. With raw, ruthless force, he lifts and slams XXXVI face-first into the mat!

TODD: Dammit! Once more, PVE not only has to make up completely new rules to compete, he then has to break the existing ones!

BAMA: You wanna architect victories? You gotta break a few rules… And XXXVI’s face! Briggs has done just that! Which means Preston has done just that!

The masked fighter sprawls, body twitching in pain as Briggs slips back out, expression as unreadable as ever. Preston drops from the apron with a smug smirk, dusting his hands, barking at the official to keep his eyes IN the ring!

Dashford, freed from the hold, staggers to his feet, gasping for air, his face pale with relief. His expression hardens as he seizes XXXVI by the head, dragging him upright with venom.

TODD: Dammit, no, please, not again!

“SELL!” Shouts Dashford as he twists into a…

LIQUIDATION EVENT! (Cross Rhodes)!

XXXVI crumples to the canvas, motionless.

[blue]BAMA: Another victory for the Undefeated XWF Legend, Preston Vanderlay Esquire!

TODD: Not if Atara has anything to say about!

Outside the ring, Atara rises to a vertical base over Regan and…

BOOTS her in the gut! Regan cradles her stomach…

Atara spins, looking to resume the attack on Preston… But spots Dashford crawling into a cover!

She goes to roll under the bottom rope, rage written across every line of her face…

1!

…NO! Regan, bloodied lip curling into a desperate snarl, lunges again, clutching Atara’s ankle in a vice grip under the bottom rope.

2!

Atara thrashes, her fingers clawing at the mat, her eyes wild with anguish…

TODD: No! Not like this!

THREE!

WINNER: PRESTON VANDERLAY ESQUIRE!


BAMA: Yes like this, Todd! The system works!

The bell rings. Dashford Luxe sits up with a triumphant, exhausted smirk, brushing his hair back with a cocky flourish, quickly rolling to the outside where PVE is rushing him up the ramp!

Atara goes to kick Regan off… but she sprints past, around the ring to join PVE as the foursome hightail it, taunting the competitors in the ring as they go!

TODD: Dashford Luxe STEALS it, thanks to Preston Vanderlay’s army of cronies! Atara and XXXVI were robbed tonight!

BAMA: Robbed? No, Todd. That’s called leveraging human capital. Preston Vanderlay remains…

TODD: Don’t say it…

BAMA: An UNDEFEATED! XWF! LEGEND!

[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: The vibes are absolutely electric for this one, Bama!

BAMA: You ain’ lyin’, Toddy baby! In one corner, we have a seemingly undefeatable Anarchy champion… In the other, we have the skyrocketing Universal champion, who has been un-TOUCHABLE in recent weeks!

TODD: Both aligned by the Revolution’s cause! Tonight, they go head-to-head!

Over the course of the show, a larger and larger crowd has gathered around the rubble of the stadium….a crowd mirroring the likes of MAYDAY!

TODD: We tried to hold the crowd just to just ticket purchasers, Bama! But this crowd has slowly swelled over the course of this absolutely electric show!

BAMA: Kinda hard to keep anyone out when there’s no damn walls or door to keep ‘em out, Todd!

TODD: Somehow, I don’t think either of these revolutionaries would have it any other way!

Ring announcer: Ladies and gentlemen… please welcome to ringside, the special enforcer for this contest: XWF Legend… CENTURION!!!!!!



TODD: It’s been, what? Nearly a YEAR since we last saw Centurion on XWF television?

BAMA T: In a match against Madison Dyson! Cent’s career’s lasted longer than some historical empires at this point!

TODD: Centurion is a three-time Anarchy champion, a former UGWC World Heavyweight Champion and one of the most respected legends to ever grace the XWF!

BAMA: I ain’t the biggest Cent fan, but I gotta admit it, Anarchy feels even more like Anarchy with Andy Cortinovis in the building!

The famously grumpy Cent turns it on long enough to smile and wave to the crowd waving adoration and love down upon him, before locking back into his character as this match’s cooler.

TODD: It’ll be interesting to see what role Centurion plays in this match! He and Dolly have clashed many-a-time throughout their careers… but he has a special place in his heart for how much he DESPISES Micheal Graves!

BAMA: Yeah, but that’s Micheal Graves, not ‘Micheal Graves’!

TODD: One, there was zero inflection change between your two Graveses… Two, I don’t think Cent knows the difference!

The camera cuts to Pryce position… where ‘Graves’ stretches his arm as his entourage, the Students of Gravy and Irwin, Mark Flynn’s #1 fan, tune their instruments…

Peter Parkour does vocal warm-ups.

Irwin tunes his banjo.

Miss Furry…

…Well, she, like… she holds her triangle at different angles, as if trying to capture the perfect angle at which one could strike a triangle!

TODD: Does she even actually hit that thing during the song?

…’Graves’ rotates his neck in a circle…

When his eyes focus on something off-camera!

…

[Image: 1000016643.png?ex=68a9c269&is=68a870e9&h...b48702cda7]

XWF UNIVERSAL CHAMPION DOLLY WATERS!

TODD: Oh my! Could we be seeing another Shark-Nickles situation?!? Is this match gonna pop off outside the ring? ‘Graves’ had some… critiques about Dolly’s leadership decisions heading the Revolution!

BAMA: That’s putting it mildly, Toddy! ‘Graves’ implied she was leading the Revolution on a path of destruction by tolerating Black Rainbow.

TODD: Tensions could be high here!

…’Graves’ stares Dolly in the eye, icy in demeanor. ‘Graves’’s crew stop tuning their instruments and step up beside him.

…Well, okay, slightly behind him.

…

For what feels like an eternity, but is really only a few seconds, Waters and ‘Graves’ stare, as if waiting for the other to flinch.

TODD: So much history between these two… Literally years of trauma, violence, and traumatic violence between ‘Graves’ and Waters!

…

Finally, Dolly moves first.

Taking her arm…

…

And raising her fist in the air.

…The crowd pops for the Revolution!

REV-O-LU-TION! *clap clap clapclapclap*

REV-O-LU-TION! *clap clap clapclapclap*

‘Graves’ examines her gesture, icily.

The chant dies down…

…

‘Graves’ raises his fist across from her.

His crew joins in raising their fist.

The crowd goes electric!

REV-O-LU-TION! *clap clap clapclapclap*

REV-O-LU-TION! *clap clap clapclapclap*

TODD: …Well, if you were afraid the Revolution would schism (pardon the pun…), it looks as if they remain united!

BAMA: For now, Toddy, for now! The ring has a funny way of making enemies friends… and making friends enemies! And no one’s more hyper-competitive in the squared circle than these two competitors!

‘Graves’ and Dolly nod at each other… As ‘Graves’ exits Pryce position first…

Ring announcer: The following contest is for ONE FALL!!!!!!

Suddenly, there’s the strum of a banjo heard from off-stage…



Through the apron, bursts “Micheal Graves” (conceivably), Anarchy champion, sporting the “Dark Warrior” mask upon his face, and the Anarchy championship belt on his shoulder.

TODD: There he is! As of today, the Anarchy champion for three-hundred-thirty consecutive days! Officially, THE longest title reign in the XWF’s modern era! He’s held it almost FOUR months longer than the next longest Anarchy championship reign! ‘The Dark Warrior’ Micheal Graves!

BAMA: And that number ain’t propped up, Toddrick! According to my notes…

TODD: Bama, those are MY notes, you’re looking over my shoulde-

BAMA: *kerAGH ahem ahem* According to MY RESEARCH… Graves is also the defending-est champion in Anarchy history, having just passed EDWARD! SEVEN Anarchy title defenses since he first obtained the belt in late September!

TODD: …*sigh* that is true, Bama! This all started September 8th, 2024, when ‘Graves’ led the students of Gravy to a shocking upset victory over then-current Anarchy champion Madison Dyson and Misty Waters… ‘Graves’ is literally one week short of a PERFECT Anarchy calendar year!

BAMA: But I can’t imagine a bigger challenge to stand his way than the reigning Universal champion!

As the banjo strings are plucked, ‘Graves’ strolls down the ramp… As an entourage follows him!

Ring announcer: Introducing first! He is your REIGNING ANARCHY CHAMPION! THE DARK WARRIOR! MICHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAL GRAAAAAAAAAAVES!

…

The ring announcer double-checks her intro card.

”...Allegedly!”

Irwin, Mark Flynn’s #1 fan is plucking the banjo, playing the folk song…

Behind *him* are the Students of Gravy.

Miss Furry paws at a triangle, which isn’t plugged into anything…

While Peter Parkor brings up the rear, holding a microphone…

Peter raises the mask over his lips and lifts the mic.

♫ You may think that you’re neutral ♫
♫  There are no neutrals though ♫
♫ You’re either with the wrestlers ♫
♫ Or a pawn of the CEOs ♫

The fans join in, knowing the chorus by heart…

WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON? WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON?

‘Graves’ continues to walk down the ramp to the beat, staring at the challenger in the ring… as the entourage behind him plays…

♫ The Boss wants us divided ♫
♫  He don’t want this song sung ♫
♫ But us wrestlers, we fight until ♫
♫ That final bell is rung  ♫

TODD: Another pro-labor spiritual from the Students of Gravy!

BAMA: How’s he about to twist it on Dolly, though?

♫ Black Rainbow’s forces growing ♫
♫  Ev’ry day, there’s one more ♫
♫ They want you feelin’ hopeless ♫
♫ Reviles us to our core ♫

WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON? WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON?

TODD: …Mmmm! Calling out the Black Rainbow itself, Bama!

BAMA: Questionable wisdom from the usually pragmatic ‘Graves’, Toddrick! Ask Peter Principle how calling out Black Rainbow worked for him… He’ll try to tell you with bell dings!

…Finally, finishing his slow, deliberate march, ‘Graves’ enters the ring and lifts the belt over his head.

♫ Maræth can’t snuff the Union’s light ♫
♫ The workers are no joke ♫
♫ Try to eat our dreams, Yelena ♫
♫ See how we’ll make you CHOKE ♫

WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON? WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON?

Irwin finishes with a little banjo solo…

Before humbly sliding his instrument behind his back…

TODD: ‘Graves’ sending a message straight to Black Rainbow! And I can see why! Three Black Rainbow members on Anarchy between Marisol Vilaro, PVE, and Celestine Gale! And they’ve each been absolutely dominant in recent weeks!

BAMA: I’d be reeeeeeeal careful if I were ‘Graves’! He’s the longest-reigning Anarchy champion, but he just painted a big colorful target on his back that I’m sure Black Rainbow would love to cover in goo!

TODD: He can worry about that later, Bama! Right now, he’s got the Universal champion ahead of him, on possibly the hottest hot streak of her career!

The entourage heads back up the ramp, as ‘Graves’ hands the Anarchy title off to the official, never taking his eyes off the ramp.



The lights go dark!

Spotlights flock to the entrance ramp!


The fans pop as the X-Tron blares…







…ODE TO JOY!

The stadium spotlights rush up toward the ceiling as Dolly Waters appears under the XTron. She marches to the beat of Ode To Joy, the crowd roaring, her gaze set squarely on the squared circle. She climbs through the ropes and takes the center of the ring, raising a single fist into the air.

TODD: Dolly Waters has been on the hottest streak of her career! She beat Charlie Nickles for the Universal title! She pulled off a win over the RED HOT, Dickie Watson!

BAMA: She’s been un-touch-able, Toddrick! Plain and simple! She’s been pumpin’ out the best work of her career!

TODD: But this is among the ultimate tests the XWF has to offer! Can Dolly keep the streak going and pull off a win over ‘Micheal Graves’ ON ANARCHY!

BAMA: That’s something no one’s been able to do in NEARLY A YEAR, TODD!

…The two meet in the center of the ring!


TODD: here they are, Bama… Finally! The crowning jewels of our industry today. The Universal Champion. The Anarchy Champion…

BAMA: you’re right, baby! But we’ve seen this one a time or two already. ‘Graves’ has fended off any, and all challenges that have been presented to him over the last year in Anarchy. He’s our champion!

TODD: It’s true, partner, but this one feels… different. Dolly Waters is very much EVERYONE’S champion. And while she and Graves are aligned in their battle for a greater good, the differences in their approaches could not be more stark. And yet tonight they do battle in the name of their union.[/blue]

The official signals to the timekeeper!

DING DING!



CO-MAIN

Dolly Waters ©
- vs -
"Allegedly" Micheal Graves ©

Plus - XWF Legend Centurion will be sitting at ringside as the timekeeper and enforcer (as needed)!

Non-Title Singles w/Special Guest


The moment the bell rings, both competitors leave their corners, circling the ring, looking to lock up…

TODD: Starting with a little catch-as-catch-can, looks like!

BAMA: ‘Graves’’ bread-and-butter… Dolly’s gonna have to dig deep to match ‘Graves’s technical prowess…

Dolly leads with the right side, advancing with her left foot… ‘Graves’ advances like he’s ready to lock-up…

Before switching to southpaw, extending his left hand, leading with the right foot…

TODD: ‘Graves’ clearly very intentional… trying to start things off with both he and Dolly wrestling on their non-dominant sides…

BAMA: Know why he’s doing it, Toddy? IT forces Dolly to lead with that knee! The one Grok almost blew out its socket!

TODD: Ohhhhh, you might be right, Bama!

…Dolly stretches out that right knee of hers… and switches hands, offering her left… ‘Graves’ advances…

The two lockup!

TODD: Here we go! Dolly - vs - ‘Graves’!

Dolly and ‘Graves’ jockey for position, circling around the ring…

‘Graves’ rotates, taking Dolly by the side, securing her in a side headlock!

Dolly tries to snake through, grasping ‘Graves’ wrist! She transitions to a hammerlock, twisting ‘Graves’ arm against his back…

In a flash, ‘Graves’ drops to one knee, sending Dolly up and over his shoulder! Fireman’s carry!

…Nope! Dolly rolls through landing on her feet!

TODD: Remarkable sequence! This two going tit-for-tat in the early-going, Dolly meeting ‘Graves’ every step of the way!

The two circle, still feeling each other out…

They lock up again!

…This time, Dolly secures a side headlock on ‘Graves’…

When ‘Graves’ drops to the mat… and clips Dolly with the shoulder to that right knee! Dolly hits the mat!

TODD: Oh my! For being Dolly’s ally, ‘Graves’ seems keen to target that right knee every chance he can!

BAMA: ‘Graves’ IS Dolly’s ally! He knows he’s doing her no favors by sparing that knee! Every opponent’s going to attack it, he knows Dolly’s gotta prep to defend attacks to it and counter out on it!

As Dolly’s back hits the mat, ‘Graves’ latches his mitts around Dolly’s ankle, securing a standing leg lock, twisting Dolly’s knee against the mat!

TODD: Oh my… ‘Graves’ going for a very early submission here!

Dolly’s face contorts with pain…

‘Graves’ grits his teeth… applying additional torque, trying to turn Dolly onto her front, twisting her knee like a pretzel…

Dolly…

Dolly bridges back!

And twists! Dragonscrew from the mat!

…’Graves’ cartwheels through, remaining on his feet! ‘Graves’ bounces off the ropes looking to take advantage of Waters being grounded… but Dolly kips up back to her feet!

…’Graves’ puts on the brakes as the crowd cheers!

TODD: Phew! Dolly pulls off an impressive escape! A lesser opponent, ‘Graves’ would have had the victory right there!

BAMA: Dolly’s remarkable, but ‘Graves’ might be the technical wrestling GOAT… if she wants to stay in this, she’s gotta drop the respectful act and make ‘Graves’ wrestle her game, rather than letting ‘Graves’ make her wrestle his.

The two circle once more… ‘Graves’ picks up the pace circling, grapevining his feet clockwise around the ring..,

TODD: …Mmm, ‘Graves’ forcing Dolly to circle in a direction that requires her injured right leg to lead, right, Bama?

BAMA: Now you’re getting it, Toddy baby!

Dolly manages to keep ‘Graves’ pace, circling… They both lock-up for the third time…

‘Graves’ snaps Dolly’s head to his waist, a deeeeep side headlock!

TODD: ‘Graves’ wins another exchange here…

…Dolly drags her feet back to the ropes… and shoots ‘Graves’ off to the opposite side!

‘Graves’ shoots across the ropes! Dolly goes for a…

LARIAT!

…But ‘Graves’ ducks under, and on the way past, latches Dolly in a standing sleeper hold!

TODD: Another counter by ‘Graves’!

BAMA: He’s keeping Dolly from hitting second gear, trying to keep her grounded and on the back foot!

Dolly wriggles, as ‘Graves’ tries to latch on a rear choke! Dolly slips around the side, latches ‘Graves’ in a waistlock! Dolly sends ‘Graves’ up and over!

Back Suplex!

…But ‘Graves’ lands on his feet! And, as Dolly rises from the suplex, immediately latches on another rear choke!

The crowd applauds the sequence, as ‘Graves’ waves a finger in front of Dolly’s face…

…’Graves’ suddenly spins his body, dragging Dolly to the mat! Side headlock takedown!

TODD: Uh oh! Mat wrestling is ‘Graves’’s best spot to be in!

BAMA: He knows a couple hundred ways to lock in that Fujiwara armbar of his! I believe ‘Graves’ could make a man tap out while locked in a straight jacket and handcuffs!

‘Graves’ latches his arm around Dolly’s skull, before trying to secure control of her wrist!

…But Dolly twists out, rotates her hips, and reaches her feet! Securing ‘Graves in a wristlock!

…And suddenly, she forces her weight down on his back! Twisting his arm up!

The crowd buzzes in disbelief!

TODD: There’s no way! Is Dolly going for a Fujiwara on ‘Graves’!

BAMA: Audacious! Unthinkable!

…’Graves’s eyes widen in surprise as Dolly twists his arm deeper against his back, trying to force the Anarchy champ face-first to the mat…

…Suddenly, ‘Graves’’s free hand reaches out and yanks Dolly’s ankle! Takedown!

…Nope! Dolly releases her grip and somersaults forward!

The crowd leaps to their feet, impressed by another even exchange between the two…

TODD: Wow! We came surprisingly close to seeing Dolly lock the Fujiwara armbar in on its most fervent practitioner!

BAMA: And nothing’s stopping her from trying it again!

…As the crowd cheers, Dolly pinches her fingers together at ‘Graves’, as if telling him how close she just came to having him dead to rights…

…The gravely-serious ‘Graves’... allows himself a half-smile and a respectful clap, acknowledging his opponent…

DOLLY! DOLLY! DOLLY screams the crowd…

‘Graves’ shakes his arms forward, loosening the muscles as Dolly nods and moves back in. The two engage in a grapple, center of the mat—-

TODD: This isn’t really Dolly’s game here, Bama I’m not sure what she’s think- - -OH!

Dolly fakes through the tie-up, and slithers around ‘Graves’ again, SPINNING HEEL KICK TO THE SPINE!

NO!

BAMA: ‘Graves’ as nimble as ever here! He’s turned and caught Waters by the ankle!

Dolly is hopping on that bad right-leg, as ‘Graves’ has ahold of the left— now it’s him wagging a finger at Dolly. He goes for a dragon screw, but as soon as he pulls, Waters leaps in the air with an ENZIGURI!

That ‘Graves’ ducks under!

Waters falls to the mat, and ‘Graves’, without a single beat, hooks that right leg, and locks in a stepover toehold face lock!

But before he’s able to cinch it in fully, Dolly rolls him! ‘Graves’ is on his back, but his hands are still grasped together, locking his forearm under Dolly’s chin. She tries breaking free, but ‘Graves’ is about to roll her over until—-

BAMA: OH BABY! WHAT A COUNTER!

Dolly rolls back, sacrificing a nasty wrench to her neck from ‘Graves’. Both of their legs kicking around, but as soon as Dolly’s toes touch the mat again, she puts ‘Graves’ into a reverse face lock,  his back on the mat still, he immediately thrusts a shoulder up and the two other gator roll for a few revolutions across the canvas before stopping right at the ropes. They each disengage and crawl up to their knees away from one another.

They exchange nods again, but the smiles seem a little fainter. More of a trade of acknowledgments of what’s next to come…

A running discus elbow from Waters!

That ‘Graves’ side steps and… ATOMIC DROP!

His knee blasts into her lower discs!

Dolly stumbles forward toward the ropes, ‘Graves’ is in pursuit looking for a waistlock from behind…

But when he goes forward, Dolly leaps forward off the ropes… looking to set ‘Graves’ up for…

- - - A BACK SPRINGBOARD CUTTER!

TODD: Wow! What a dynamic counter by Dolly! ‘Graves’ walked right into that one!

Dolly crawls around for…

TODD: The first pin attempt!

1!



Quick kick out!!


Graves presses Dolly off of him, and she lands on her feet and immediately runs for the ropes. ‘Graves’ kips up to his feet. He chases after her.

Clothesline!

But Dolly ducks under, shit hits the next set of ropes and clothesline again! This time it - - - is countered!

Dolly leaps, grabbing the arm between her legs and arm drags ‘Graves to the mat, locking a Fujiwara Armb-… no!

‘Graves’ finds his center of gravity, pushing Dolly off toward the ropes! Dolly goes to rebound off of them…

But ‘Graves’ is right behind her! Knee lift STRAIGHT to the ribs!

Dolly doubles over, front-flipping onto her back, clutching her ribs and dry-heaving with the wind knocked out of her!

Ooooooooooooooooh

TODD: Ouch! That counter looked absolutely devastating!

‘Graves’ drops into a cover, grinding an elbow into Dolly’s face as he hooks the leg!

The official counts!

ONE!

TWO!

THR-NOPE! Dolly forces a shoulder up!

TODD: Possibly a little frustration mounting on the Anarchy champion’s face here!

BAMA: I get it! Dolly’s fought him like a gnat from the ring of the bell, buzzing at him, never letting up! He’s gotta be thinkin’, what do I got to do to keep her down?!?

As Dolly cradles her ribs, ‘Graves’ yanks her to her feet by the waistband of her tights… ‘Graves’ pulls her backwards into a waistlock…

RELEASE GERMAN SUPLEX!

…

But Dolly backflips onto her feet! The crowd goes nuts!

TODD: Holy COW! The sheer athleticism of the Universal champion! How does she move like that?!?

BAMA: And she ain’t done movin’, Toddrick!

Indeed, as ‘Graves’ kips up onto his feet, Dolly hits the ropes…

‘Graves’ turns around, expecting to see a downed Wat-

WHAM! SHOTGUN DROPKICK!

‘Graves’ gets blasted like he just got hit by a car, across the ring, through the ropes, and on the padded concrete outside the ring!

FUCK ‘EM UP, DOLLY! FUCK ‘EM UP! *clap clap*

TODD: WOW! That dropkick looked like ‘Graves’ got hit by an NFL linebacker!

…Centurion circles the ring, over to ‘Graves’, who’s shaking off cobwebs…

BAMA: Ol’ Cent, clearly lookin’ for an opportunity to give ‘Graves’ a piece of his mind!

…Andy walks over to the Dark Warrior, seemingly looking for a spot to scoop him back into the ring…

…But his eyes narrow… checking ‘Graves’ height against his as ‘Graves’ slowly works his way to feet.

TODD: Cent, I think, a little thrown by the fact ‘Graves’ is four inches shorter than the last time Cent saw him!

‘Graves’ rapidly blinks through his Dark Warrior mask… before realizing who’s next to him.

”Oh. Hey Andy.” The camera picks up.

…Cent squints like… do I know this asshole?

Meanwhile, the official has been counting…

FIVE!

SIX! Dolly waves at her co-revolutionary, like ‘whenever you’re ready to get back to work?’

‘Graves’ immediately rolls back into the ring and the two go into another scrap!

Dolly aims a spinning heel kick!

But ‘Graves’ ducks it, delivering a boot to the stomach! Dolly doubles over, collapsing back… but keeping her footing as one knee reflexively slides under her to keep her going back on the mat!

TODD: ‘Graves’ seems keen to target the Dolly’s solarplexus!

BAMA: There’s a near two-and-a-half decade age gap between Dolly and ‘Graves’! ‘Graves is NEVER gonna keep up with Dolly’s conditioning, so he has to make choices that drain her tank faster! Spoil that natural fuel efficiency that comes with youth!

‘Graves’ snatches Dolly by the arm, driving his head under her shoulder, and wrapping his arms around her waist!

HE LIIIIIIIIIFTS!

NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX!

TODD: Beautiful rotation there!

The official drops to count!

ONE!

TW-Wait! ‘Graves’ somersaults backwards out of the bridge, while remaining latched onto Dolly’s waist!

BAMA: I will never not appreciate how absurd this trick is! It feels like it’s physically impossible!

‘Graves’ manages… with a heave… to deadlift Dolly off her back!

SECOND NORTHER-...

…Wait! On the way up for the back-to-back, Dolly wraps her legs around ‘Graves’’s waist, latching onto his shoulder!

TODD: There’s life in Dolly yet!

And Dolly slams herself backwards! ARM DDT, smashing ‘Graves’s shoulder against the mat!

Even through the Dark Warrior mask, ‘Graves’’s icy expression melts into one of anguish… He smashes his fist against the mat, as he cradles that arm…

TODD: Meanwhile, Dolly seems keen to attack ‘Graves’’ arm!

BAMA: That accomplishes two things! ONE, it’s gonna make it hard as hell for ‘Graves’ to secure that trademark Fujiwara armbar! Second… it’s gonna soften him up if she wants to keep trying for that Fujiwara herself!

TODD: If Dolly Waters can make ‘Graves’ submit to the Fujiwara armbar… I think this crowd is going to actually riot!

BAMA: What are they gonna do, Toddrick? Tear the roof off this place! There’s no roof!

Dolly stands, panting lightly. She runs and hits the ropes. Baseball slide attack right into ‘Graves’ arm! He lets out an uncharacteristic, almost feral shout of anguish...

Dolly goes to climb back to a vertical base, but ‘Graves’ grabs her by the ankle, sweeping her to the mat! Wham! Dolly’s tripped, landing face first on the canvas!

TODD: oof! It feels like the vibes have changed in the ring a little bit!

BAMA: You ain’ lyin’, Toddy! This felt like a friendly sparring match, now it feels like two alley cats scrapping over a leftover trashbag of yesterday’s fettuccine!

‘Graves’ keeps hold of the ankle, twists his hips and drops a sharp falling elbow into the back of her bad knee. Dolly screams, pounding the mat, and ‘Graves’ rises again- - - another elbNO- - - he abruptly drops Dolly’s leg and starts cradling his arm again, falling over to the mat himself!

[blue]TODD: Ouch! Delayed reaction to using that injured elbow!

BAMA: Ya gotta remember, Dolly and ‘Graves’ are only DAYS removed from getting beaten down by the Corporation! They already don’t feel good! And they’re both the kind of competitors willing to cut their own gut to get a momentary advantage!

‘Graves’ and Waters both slowly recover back to a vertical base, Waters favoring that right leg… ‘Graves’ favoring that arm…

‘Graves’ strikes first… CHOP!

WOOOOOOOOOO!

Dolly CHOPS back!

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

‘Graves’ CHOP!

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Dolly reels back… and DEAD-ARMS ‘Gravy’ in that weakened arm! ‘Graves’ staggers back, to the ropes, cradling his arm to his chest!

TODD: Dolly is not giving that arm a MOMENT to recover!

‘Graves’ shakes that arm out, cradling onto the top rope…

Dolly charges, looking to clothesline ‘Graves’ over the top rope…

But ‘Graves’ ducks! Dolly hits the ropes, straight into ‘Graves’ arms…

SPINNING SPINEBUSTER SLAM WITH AUTHORITY!

The ring rattles as Dolly rotates around the mat, cradling her spine!

TODD: ‘Graves’ got all of that one! Could ‘Graves’ beat the Universal champion on Anarchy for the second time?!?

‘Graves’ crawls on one arm into the cover, hooking the inside leg!

The official counts!

ONE!

TWO!

THR-NO!

Dolly rolls her shoulder off the mat!

BAMA: If Dolly hadn’t been attacking ‘Graves’’s arms, he might’ve reached for the outside leg and this one could be over!

…’Graves’ pounds the mat with his healthy arm, clearly frustration is mounting… Dolly slowly starts to rise…

‘Graves’ grabs Dolly’s leg and drags her backward to the center of the ring… He points to the sky!

TODD: I think ‘Graves’ is going for the Figure Four! Fun Fact: The Figure Four was Mark Flynn’s original submission finisher!

BAMA: Why do you have Mark Flynn trivia in your notes? This is a MICHEAL GRAVES MATCH!

TODD: Allegedly!

‘Graves’ grabs Dolly’s leg and rotates it,giving Dolly his back…

Dolly boots ‘Graves’ in the back, propelling him towards the ropes! ‘Graves’ rebounds off the ropes, leaping high!

DOUBLE BOOT STOMP!

…No! Dolly rolls out the way towards the ropes! She shoves her way to her feet… but ‘Graves’ springs forward, latching in a front facelock…

But Dolly goes low and drives her skull into ‘Graves’’s gut… ‘Graves’, surprised, staggers back, air driven from his lungs!

TODD: These two are absolutely vicious!

BAMA: The Union may be a buncha commies, but they fuckin’ FIGHT!

Both Dolly and ‘Graves’ breathe heavily, Dolly holding the ropes, ‘Graves’ holding his guts in the center of the ring…

Dolly shoves off, charging first, looking for a lariat!

…But ‘Graves’ latches onto the arm, trying to shove Dolly’s face into the mat! FUJIWAR-

…No! Dolly rotates her shoulder and arm drags ‘Graves’…

‘Graves’ somersaults through, skidding across the ring!

Dolly shoves herself off the ropes!

DISCUS LARIAT!

…’Graves’ drops to his back! And kips right back up!

BAMA: I swear ‘Graves’ is aging backwards…

But Dolly keeps running off the missed lariat! She hits the ropes on the other side, ‘Graves’ turns aro-

RUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNING WATERS!

TODD: OH MY GOD! RUNNING WATERS FROM OUTTA NOWHERE!

BAMA: OH SHIT! For the first time in almost fifty weeks, is Micheal Graves gonna drop a loss on Anarchy?!?

‘Graves’ is blasted into the ropes, looking like he don’t know which way is up, only that his body’s going down…

Dolly crawls across the ring for a cover…

But, with the last of his wherewithal, ‘Graves’ flops between the bottom and middle ropes, flopping outside the ring!

BAMA: Amazing ring IQ by Gravy! Buying himself some recovery time!

TODD: Not if Andy Cortinovis has anything to say about it!

…’Graves’, coughing and sputtering, crawls weakly onto his knees… he open his eyes… and sees a pair of boots in front of him…

He looks up…

And standing above him is XWF Legend Centurion!

…

”…*sigh*”

”Hey AndEEEEE!”

FWSH! Cent scoops ‘Graves’ to his feet…

THROW HIM IN! THROW HIM IN!

TODD: The crowd is begging Cent to let Dolly finish this one!

Cent cups his ear, playing up the moment, like he’s trying to hear the crowd…

Then, he chucks ‘Graves’ under the ring, near the corner!

JC: This could be it! Dolly might beat the man thought to be unbeatable on Thursday nights!

‘Graves’ weakly crawls to his knees, as Dolly points the air, the crowd clapping in tune with her pointing!

Dolly sprints! RUNNNNNNNNNNNING WATERS!

…

Is dodged! With the last of his strength, ‘Graves’ rolls sideways! Dolly SLAMS, tangled into the turnbuckle!

TODD: What a dodge! I didn’t think ‘Graves’ still had one of those in the tank!

Dolly woozily rotates away from the turnbuckle…

As ‘Graves’ latches on a front face lock!

He HEAVES Dolly into the air!

THE END! (Kenta Kobashi’s Black Crush)

BAMA: BALLGAME!

TODD: Awwww, bad luck for Dolly Waters… no one has kicked out of The End in Micheal Graves’ Anarchy tenure!

BAMA: They call it The End for a reason, Toddrick! Nice try, Dolls! Thanks for playing!

‘Graves’ exhaustedly crawls, dragging one arm forward, latching his weight over Dolly’s OUTSIDE shoulder this time!

The official drops to count!

ONE!

TWO!

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEENOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

TODD: WHAT?!?

BAMA: WHAT?!?

WHAT?!?

At the last possible moment, Dolly Waters throws the shoulder up!

‘Graves’ eyes go wide as he slumps exhaustedly to the mat!

BAMA: NO WAY! NO WAY! NO… NO GODDAMNED WAY!

TODD: You said it earlier, Bama, ‘Graves’ was thinking it, now this whole arena must be asking… What could possibly put Dolly Waters down?!?

…’Graves’ shakes his head, from the mat, pulling himself up by the bottom rope… then the middle rope! He waves Dolly up, signaling for a second The End!

BAMA: … that’s right! He didn’t get all of it that last time! That was like a half of The End! Maybe only a third! This one’s ending it for sure!

TODD: Looked like he got all of it to me, Bama! Dolly is just riding this crowd’s energy! They gave her the fighting spirit to kick out!

BAMA: … Todd, you’re watching way too much of that ‘a-knee-may’…

Dolly slowly rises to one foot, ‘Graves’ screaming at her to get up!

Dolly does, on jelly legs…

‘Graves’ boots Dolly in the stomach! And hoists her into a front facel-

Dolly latches onto ‘Graves’’s arm, dragging ‘Graves’ face first down to the mat!

FUJIWARA! FUJIWARA ARMBAR!

THE CROWD GOES INSANE!

TODD: FUJIWARA! Dolly has the Fujiwara locked in on ‘Graves’!

BAMA: YOU CALLED IT! YOU CALLED IT, TODDY! OKLAHOMA CITY IS ABOUT TO GO NUTS!

DOLLY! DOLLY! DOLLY!

‘Graves’ is trapped… his hand shakes… But, Dolly brought him down near the ropes!

TODD: ‘Graves’ can pull off yet another impossible escape… If he can just… reeeeeeeach!

‘Graves’ reaches… He reaches…

His hand shakes!

…

His fingertips extend toward the ropes!

…BUT NO! Dolly extends her legs and kicks off the ropes!

The pair backwards somersault, two feet back!

AND DOLLY PULLS ON THE FUJIWARA TIGHTER! SHE KEPT IT LOCKED IN THROUGH THE ROTATION!

The crowd gets even louder!

TODD: What a maneuver! What technique by Dolly Waters! She’s wrestled the perfect match up to this point! Can she close it?!?

‘Graves’’s arm continues to shake… He bites down on his free-hand, like a coyote trying to gnaw off its own arm to escape a trap!

TODD: ‘Graves’ trying to desperately to send pain signals away from his brain! It’s crazy!

BAMA: And it can’t last! He’s about to tap! Dolly Waters might just have this!

‘Graves’... manhandles his elbow into the mat, elevating his chest!

TODD: NO WAY!

BAMA: HOW IS ‘GRAVES’ NOT GIVING IN?!?

He crawls forward, for the ropes!

He’s a foot away!

Six inches!

TODD: He’s gonna get there!

…NO!

Dolly kicks off the ropes, trying another somersault!

…But this time, ‘Graves’ shoves off the mat, stacking Dolly’s shoulders under his back against the mat!

…And simultaneously, Dolly wraps an arm around ‘Graves’ shoulders, rolling him up!

The official drops to count!

TODD: Wait, whose down?!?

ONE!

BAMA: I think it’s Dolly!

TWO!

BAMA: No, wait! ‘Graves’!

THREE!

…

……

WINNER: ..


…

……

………

WINNER: DRAW


BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

TODD: Ohhhhh, the crowd hates a draw!

BAMA: But what an incredible match! What an absolute war between these two competitors!

TODD: Truly a once-in-a-lifetime performance by both our Universal champion AND our Anarchy champion!

After a while, the crowd starts a different chant…

SUDDEN DEATH! SUDDEN DEATH!

…Dolly and ‘Graves’ exhaustedly get up… Before hearing the crowd…

…

Dolly points at the crowd, looking at ‘Graves’...

…

‘Graves’ laughs, and shakes his head…


…Dolly agrees.

AWWWWWWWWWW

After a momentary disappointment, the crowd begins to applaud the incredible showing by both competitors.

Dolly raises ‘Graves’’s arm, and the crowd cheers…

‘Graves’ bows politely…

And then raises Dolly’s arm.

And OKC goes FUCKING LOOOOOOOOOOOOOUD!

REVOLUTION!

TODD: A match-of-the-year candidate for certain! What a match!

BAMA: AND WE’VE STILL GOT ONE MORE TO GO!

[Image: wireline.png]

XWF OFFICIAL MEDIA
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Watch Anarchy and listen to ANY of the XWF Podcasts AT THE SAME TIME!
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Find it here: https://www.youtube.com/@xwfofficialmedia4225
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Stay tuned…!

[Image: wireline.png]

Hunched over in the women's locker rubble, Dolly approaches a statuesque figure clad in a blue and white two piece ensemble. A long umber mane draped down the back facing the camera further hiding the woman's identity. It was a poor kept secret and the XWF fans watching knew at the onset who it was. They had only swarmed her profile page more than any superstar on the roster. New and old.

But if there was a casual viewers iin attendance, the animated head movements and Mediterranean growl coming from beneath the hunch was an equal give away.

“Ismene, voúrtsise ta dóntia sou!” Atara snapped to what appeared to be no one at first but then another Grecian accent broke the airwaves. A higher pitched miniature one.

“Ochi!” a child protested.

Atty gasped and hunched further to reach for foot and pulled off a flip flop that disappeared to her front.

“Voúrtsise ta dóntia sou alliós tha fas xýlo!” She snapped again.

“Ochi!”

Atty had started back in a quick and vehement Greek with animated body language to match but before she could get into deep there’s a tap on Atty’s shoulder.

Hey… got a sec?

“Ti!” Atty barked snapping upright and spinning on heel with fiery gaze at her interrupted. Upon seeing Dolly it immediately cooled and when the cameras were noticed it turned to shock.
In one hand she held her cellphone and in the other she held a the flip flop. It took only a split second before Atara shoved them both behind her back.

A sheepish and embarrassed laugh throttles from her lips.

“Dolly! What a surprise..haha….of course, of course, just let me finish something real quick.”

Atty spun around and hunched,  hissed something and tossed the phone and shoe aside before spinning back.

“What's up?”

was wondering… you wanna come back home?

Atty raises an eyebrow

Where yer’ protected from your enemies?

Dolly produces a piece of paper… something legal and binding…

we need your help…

Handing Atara a pen…

and I think you could use our help too

[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: I think our Universal Champion was just trying to recruit Atara Raven into the Union!

BAMA: That’s what it looked like to me!

TODD: She said that Atara should come home. Do you think she’ll accept the offer?

BAMA: We’ll just have to wait and see, I imagine.



The opening guitar riff the Deftones’ “Kimdracula” hits the arena speakers as multicolored lights pour over the crowd. The lights slowly rotate color in a mesmerizing, psychedelic fashion as the camera pans over the excited crowd. They stand and cheer, partially excited to be on television but also excited because they know that this music signifies that they’re about to be in the presence of an XWF Legend.

Our view shifts to the entrance walkway, which is now blocked by a large pane of glass. On the glass, a name is painted:

THE TRIBE

The viewer only has a moment to take in the glass before the glass explodes towards the camera as a foot kicks through and explodes the whole display!

The crowd erupts in a huge pop.

Aidan Collins is here with Solomon Kline!

The two are decked out in their custom ring gear, putting on a show for the fans. They each make their own moves down the ramp, slapping hands and showing off!

TODD: It still feels surreal watching Aidan Collins here in the flesh in today’s XWF. I remember back when I joined the company over a decade ago, and watching him in the ring before he left!

BAMA: And it looks like he ain’t lost a step, baby! And Solomon Kline, he’s got a lot to prove with that chip on his shoulder, but he looks ready to go compete for gold tonight!

Kline rolls under the ropes whole Collins walks up the ring steps and walks down the apron to the center of the ring. He points out to the crowd before folding his arms in front of himself, giving the crowd ample time to pop off photos with their cell phones.

Aidan enters the ring through the middle rope. He shakes the ring official’s hand, now ready for the contest to begin.


BAMA: You can feel the tension as we wait for the tag champs…

TODD: I can only imagine what must be running through the challengers’ heads in terms of strategy.

…

The entirely epic XTron video of TNGB takes over the arena as the lights dim. A spotlight highlights the ramp, and Thunder Knuckles walks out onto the entrance ramp, hyped and ready to fight, pointing out into the crowd. Behind him, Bobby Bourbon deliberately walks out and stops, also pointing out into the crowd. Both men glance at each other and return their attention to the ring, delivering a no-look fistbump, then in unison point into the ring. The crowd sings along with the song.

*ASSHOLE, DIRTBAG, NO GOOD BASTARDS!*stomp stomp*

TODD: Arguably the greatest tag team in XWF history, Them No Good Bastards never fail to make enemies everywhere they turn. They’ve got a trail of bodies in their wake, and they’re ready to try and make two more.

BAMA: Is it me, or do they look extra mad tonight?

TK slides into the ring and gets up onto a knee, beckoning the crowd as Bobby climbs the steps and enters the ring behind him. TK stands and appeals to the crowd as Bobby raises his arms at 45-degree angles.

Referee N. Sertname looks to both corners to see the legal man, seeing TK and JB staring down from across one another, John psyching himself up for the war he views in front of him, stretching his arms out as he leans towards Thunder Knuckles like a mountain lion preparing to hunt. TK meets him with a steely gaze, focusing more fury and determination than he’s ever mustered up in his entire career.

…

From each of their corners, Thunder Knuckles starts things off for the Bastards, while Aidan Collins looks raring to go for the Tribe.

Collins paces like a predator, his eyes locked on TK—while TK does the opposite, leaning back against the ropes, grinning ear to ear, jawing with some fan in the second row about shitty Oklahoma is.

TODD: Thunder Knuckles loves digging at people, it’s his favorite thing to get in anyone’s head and take up residence!

BAMA: He ain’t wrong, though, Toddy! Oklahoma is a trash state!

The official signals for the start!

DING DING!




ANARCHY TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP

THEM NO GOOD BASTARDS © (Knuckles & Bourbon)
- vs -
THE TRIBE (Collins & Kline)

Tag-Team Match


TK shoves off the turnbuckle, like the work bell just rang… raising his hands for a test of strength with Collins. The XWF Legend Blizzard shrugs, he’s down for some old sch-

WHAM! TK brings a hand to slap Blizz across the face!

The crowd boos furiously as TK cackles, smacking his knee like he can’t believe he got Blizz with that.

BAMA: HAH! That’s why ol’ TK’s a DOUBLE champion, Todd! Pure psychological warfare!

TK stands up, pointing and laughing at Bl-

WHAM! Blizz hits TK right under the jaw with a…

EUROPEAN UPPERCUT!

TK’s head snaps back as he staggers into the ropes! Collins launches another one! A third!

TODD: If there was any good will between these teams before the bell rang, I think TK just squashed that!

BAMA: These pairs straight up do not like each other, Toddy, baby!

TK tries to thumbs Collins in the eye… But the veteran blocks it with his right hand!

TK takes Blizz’s momentary shift from offense to defense to hotfoot it towards his corner… With Collins in hot pursuit!

TODD: TK trying to make the first tag of the match… But Collins is clearly still eager to physicall punish TK!

Collins latches TK in a front-facelock, trying to drag him back out of the Bastard’s corner…

But as they jockey for control, Bobby reaches between the top and middle ropes, smacking TK’s hip!

TAG → TK TO BOURBON


TODD: Bourbon just tagged himself in the match! And I don’t think Collins noticed!

BAMA: When you’ve been teaming as long as the Bastards have, you know every single trick in the book!


Collins hauls TK across the ring with an Irish whip… TK rebounds off the ropes…

And on the way back, Collins catches him with a…

CRISP DROPKICK!

TODD: As crisp as a winter breeze, Bama! That’s why they call him Blizzard!

TK rolls backwards to the ropes, clutching his chest… Collins goes to continue the atta-

WHAM! From behind, Bobby Bourbon launches a discomBOBulating Ear Clap that staggers Collins!

BAMA: And so the numbers game begins! Bobby striking to take Collins off his feet and isolate him from his partner!

Collins, working off reflex and heart, shakes off the cobwebs and fires back at Bourbon with a right hand! Bobby eats it with a grin, then slams Aidan with a thunderous…

HEADBUTT! Collins drops flat on his back!

TODD: Good lord! Bobby Bourbon just caved Blizzard’s head int with that strike![/blue]

Bobby drags Aidan by the scruff into the Bastards’ corner and smacks TK’s arm…

TAG → BOURBON TO TK


The champions immediately go to work—Bobby hoists Collins high up in the air for a vertical suplex, holding him upside-down for a good five seconds…

WhenTK leaps off the middle rope with a mid-air dropkick to Aidan’s ribcage!

TODD: Ouch! A tandem maneuver as creative as it is devastating!

BAMA: The Bastards love cooking together, they love scheming together, and they love hurting people together! It’d be touching if it wasn’t so violentyl horrifying to watch in action!

Collins collapses to the mat in a heap, clutching his side. In the Tribe corner, Kline smacks the turnbuckle pad, telling Collins to stay in it!

TK dives on top of Collins for a cover—

ONE!

—but Aidan kicks out with authority!

TODD: Aidan Collins defiant here! Not even letting TK get a two-count!

BAMA: Dumb! The Bastards are letting Blizz BURN out his energy!

The crowd roars as Collins shakes his head, snarling through the pain. He drags himself toward his corner, reaching for Solomon Kline! The Rookie of the Year candidate extends his arm, eager to enter the action…

…

Nope! TK grabs Collins’ ankle and pulls him back to the Bastards’ side, pounding on the challenger with stiff forearms to the back!

TODD: The Bastards aren’t going to make it that easy for Blizz to get a breather! Collins is going to have to endure this early onslaught if the Tribe want to realize their championship dreams.

BAMA: He’s also gonna have to find a way not to get his teeth knocked down his throat, Todd. And frankly? I ain’t likin’ his odds.

TK gloats over the grounded Blizzard, stomping Collins’ hand for good measure! Collins’ face contorts in pain as he cradles his hand!

The crowd begins clapping rhythmically, willing Aidan toward his corner… and Solomon Kline claps along with them!

TK takes a grip on Aidan’s ankle, strutting around the ring like he owns it. He drags Collins toward the Bastards’ corner and reaches a hand to Bobby….

TAG → TK TO BOURBON


TODD: These quick tags are very strategically sound! Guaranteed to keep each bastard fresh and keep Collins in the ring for as long as possible…

TK delivers a vicious CHOP to Blizz’s chest… as Bobby set up like a linebacker in the center of the ring!

BAMA: Oh man… I ain’t even know what the Bastards are planning here, but I can already tell it’s gonna hurt!

TK nods at Bobby as he grabs Blizz’s arm… And slingshot Irish whips Collins out!

Bobby looks for a…

291-POUND SPEAR!

…

BUT BLIZZ LEAPS UP AND OVER! TK’s eyes widen as he ducks under the bottom rope! And Bobby’s face eats middle turnbuckle pad!

TODD: Miscalculation by the Bastards, Bama!

BAMA: Part of that creative violence, Toddrick! Sometimes an experiment blows up in your face!

TK rushes to the apron to grab the tag rope and smack Bobby on the shoulder!

TAG → BOURBON TO TK!


But Collins is already zipping into his corner!

BLIZZ SMACKS SOLOMON’S HAND!

TAG → COLLINS TO KLINE!


TODD: Here he is! Solomon Kline! Second-Generation XWF star and recent X-Treme champion!

BAMA: And he’s lookin’ ready to punish the Bastards for double-teaming his mentor!

The roof blows off as Solomon Kline vaults into the ring, storming straight for Thunder Knuckles! TK tries to grapple Kline…

But Kline barrels him over with a…

DIVING SHOULDER BLOCK! TK dizzily pops up as Kline bounces off the ropes!

BIG CLOTHESLINE! TK nearly does a flip, before landing on his face!

Solomon roars as the crowd roars with him!

Bobby Bourbon storms in illegally—he scoops Kline under the armpits looking for a…

BIG BOY TOSS!

…No! Kline lands on his feet, rebounds off the ropes, and leaps into the air!

ASHES TO ASHES! And Bourbon gets KNOCKED onto his back!

TODD: Listen to this crowd! Solomon Kline is laying waste to the champions!

BAMA: If that boy wants to lock down winning Rookie of the Year? Beating both Bastards would make that award a LOCK for young Kline!

Kline roars, fists clenched, as the Bastards roll to opposite corners trying to regroup.

Solomon Kline paces the ring like a beast unleashed, pounding his chest before charging Bobby Bourbon in the corner. He rips into Bobby with a…

CLOTHESLINE IN THE CORNER!

TK staggers out of his own corner toward Kline—only to get scooped and planted with a…

SPINEBUSTER!

TODD: Solomon Kline is a one-man wrecking crew!

Kline pumps his fist, motioning to Aidan—who cheers from the apron, begging for the tag in.

But Solomon’s not done yet. He latches his hands around Bourbon’s waist as Bobby stumbles off the mat, looking for a Dust to Dust…

…But Bourbon lifts his back, propelling Solomon through the air!

BACK BODY DROP!

TODD: Big air on that one!

BAMA: That’ll knock the salt off ya chewing gum!

Kline cradles his gut after flying through the air…

When TK dives out of the corner, delivering mounted punches on Kline!

Blizz hops through the ropes to support his partner… but the official blocks his entry!

TODD: What’s going on? The official’s letting Kline get assaulted two-on-one, but Blizz can’t join the party!

BAMA: Think ya forgot, Toddrick! TK’s the legal man! Blizz ain’t!

TK wipes the sweat from his forehead, rising over Kline, circling the young phenom like a shark smelling blood….

Kline starts to shove his way off the mat… The moment he’s got a leg off the mat, TK dives in shoulder first!

WHAM! LOW CHOP BLOCK!

Solomon roars in pain as TK goes right back to mounted punches and stomps, working the leg relentlessly.

BAMA: THAT is what makes TK so good! Those targeted attacks, weakening the leg… like watching dark clouds roll in, just before the… THUNDAH STRIKE!

As the official finally gets Blizz back to his team’s corner, Bobby claps! And steps through the ropes without touching TK…

TODD: Wait, was that a tag? TK and Bobby didn’t even make a contact!

BAMA: Official didn’t see it, though! What do you think, Graphics Department?

TAG → TK TO BOURBON!


BAMA: Thank ya kindly, Graphics Department!

Aidan Collins is beside himself on the apron, shouting for Kline to fight back, pounding the turnbuckle in rhythm as the crowd claps along.

Bourbon gingerly scoops Solomon off the mat… before hoisting him into the air!

BIG BOY TOSS! Kline flies through the air like a sack full of restaurant garbage, landing in a heap near a neutral corner of the ring!

Bourbon pretends to dab at imaginary sweat on his forehead and immediately tags TK back in…

TAG → BOURBON TO TK!

TK grasps the ropes, prepping for a sprint… Thunder Knuckles JOLTS across the ring! He leaps!

DOUBLE BOOTED STOMP onto Kline’s chest!

Kline’s tongue extends as pain sears his ribs!

TK drops down and covers him, counting along himself.

ONE! TWO! THREE!

TODD: …DId TK just count his own pin? That’s not… that’s not an option, right?

BAMA: Don’t know until you try, Toddrick!

The official shakes off TK’s count and pats the mat!

ONE!

TWO!

TH-NO!

Kline launches him off with a power kickout that sends TK off him.

TODD: Kline’s not going down that easy!

BAMA: The more he fights back, the more the Bastards are gonna enjoy savor the flavor of breaking him down!

TK looks down with a sneer, surprised Kline still has this much fight in him. He backs up into his corner and the Bastards trade tags once more!

TAG → TK TO BOURBON!


The Bastards drag Kline up again, pushing him into their corner. Bobby grips Kline’s arms behind his back… while TK peppers him with jabs to the ribs, then a nasty open-hand slap across the face that echoes through the arena.

TODD: HOW IS THIS LEGAL?!?

BAMA: C’mon, Todd! You know on tags, the partners has til five!

Blizzard continues smacking the top turnbuckle as the crowd smacks it with him, desperate to get the Tribe back in this match!

The moment the official gets to four, TK dives back onto the apron!

…And then reaches over the ropes to  smack Bobby’s shoulder!

TAG → BOURBON TO TK!


TODD: These constant tags between Bastards are effectively making this a handicap match!

BAMA: Completely within the rules, Toddrick! Don’t like it, call your congressman!

Bobby continues to hold Kline’s arms behind his back as  TK climbs to the middle rope…

BAMA: Get ready, Toddrick! The weather report’s calling for Thunder from above!

Kline, in Bobby’s grip, thrashes back and forth… before RIPPING out of Bobby’s grip!

Bobby, surprised, back-pedals into his corner! And knocks the turnbuckle pad!

TK wobbles on the ropes, his balance shot, coming off the turnbuckle…

Kline catches TK MID-FALL!

AND SPINS INTO A THUNDEROUS POWERSLAM!

The crowd explodes!

TODD: What a counter from Kline! This could be the break The Tribe needs!

BAMA: Don’t let him tag, you Bastards!

Solomon drags himself toward the corner, crawling on elbows and knees, his hand outstretched toward Aidan Collins who’s pacing like a caged animal on the apron.

…Bobby tries to charge out of the corner, grabbing Kline by the ankle!

BAMA: Oh thank goodn-

…But Solomon slips out of Bourbon’s grip! Kline dives to his corner!

TAG TO AIDAN COLLINS!

TAG → KLINE TO COLLINS!


The crowd erupts as XWF LEGEND AIDAN COLLINS vaults over the ropes! Bobby puts his dukes up…

RUNNING KNEE straight to Bobby’s jaw knocks him onto his ass!

TK staggers to his feet, looking for a BIG LARIAT!

But Collins ducks under, springboards off the ropes—springboard back elbow that takes TK down!

TODD: The weather report just got updated and we’re in for a BLIZZARD covering the ring!

Bobby shoves off the mat looking for a…

BIG BOOT!

But Collins side-steps again, latching a grip on Bourbon’s wrist… He spins him out as he winds up!

RIPCORD INTO A DISCUS LARIAT! Bourbon crumples to the mat as Aidan pops back up, rallying the crowd with a wild grin.

The crowd is deafening.

TODD: The Tribe are running roughshod over the champions! We could be looking at NEW Anarchy Tag Team Champions tonight!

BAMA: Don’t say it, Todd! Don’t you dare jinx it!

TK looks up towards the action with a gruesome visage, blood smearing down his forehead! The referee gasps in horror as he quickly leans down to check on him!

TODD: We got the scars of war in here tonight! TK looks like he’s practically on dream street!

BAMA: He might’ve gotten concussed! Good on the ref for trying to make sure he’s okay!

Blizzard doesn’t let up on the gas, however, hoisting up Bobby and holding him in ripcord position once more! Kline nods as he runs off the ropes!

AND LEAPS!





BOURBON LEANS OVER WHILE KICKING HIS LEG BACK FOR A LOW-BLOW TO COLLINS!

RIGHT AS KLINE’S ELBOW CONNECTS ONTO COLLINS’ SKULL!

BAMA: What timing! Bourbon just turned the tables just like that!

TODD: Kline looks like he just just accidentally committed murder!

Bourbon slumps forward onto all fours, sweat pouring from his body as Kline gasps aloud, leaning over to check on Collins. Collins gives a shaky nod back, and Kline turns around to try and put the boots back to Bourbon!

But Bourbon rises up with a thumb to the eye as he grits his teeth! He claps both hands around Kline’s neck - AND THROWS HIM OUT OF THE RING WITH A BIG BOY TOSS!

TODD: Bobby Bourbon just threw Kline out of the ring like he was a damn football!

BAMA: He took his eyes off the prize for too long, baby!

TODD: So did the ref… with such strangely convenient timing…

As Bourbon turns around though, he gets nailed with a strong right hand from Aidan Collins, who’s right back on his feet! Another right hand! Another! Another!

TODD: Collins trying to keep the match alive for his team!

BAMA: Well, he better look behind him!

Blizzard tries for one more punch before he could set up for a big move, but the punch is caught from behind! Thunder Knuckles is back on his feet!

Bourbon gets back to his own feet as the two nod at each other and throw a haymaker in unison!

SKULLBUSTER SPECIAL!

TODD: Those haymakers might have just knocked Aidan Collins loopy there!

BAMA: Yeah, he’ll be feeling that one tomorrow, I assure you!

TODD: What happened to being upset that TK might have been concussed a moment before?

BAMA: In a title match, Toddy, you gotta bring your A-Game, or you’re gettin’ stomped!

Blizzard slumps against Bourbon’s form, who proceeds to scoop him up high and hold him in vertical suplex position!

TK quickly scales the turnbuckle as he and Bourbon nod at each other!

TK LEAPS AND GRABS BLIZZARD’S LEG WHILE BOBBY FALLS!


Rainbow Laser Death Sequence!


TK ROLLS OVER COLLINS FOR THE PIN!


ONE!



TWO!



THREEEEEEEEEEEE!



Winners and STILL Anarchy Tag Team Champions: THEM NO GOOD BASTARDS!



As the referee awards the Bastards with their belts, both Bourbon and TK snatch them away as they angrily glare at the ref. They raise them high, basking in the boos.

TODD: It was a hard-fought match, that was to say the least. I was almost certain the Tribe was about to pull out a win towards the end…

BAMA: They mighta almost done it, but baby, ‘almost’ only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades, and we ain’t seeing either out here!

TODD: But we’ll be certain to see the Tribe looking for revenge soon, just like many other teams the Bastards might have crossed!

As Kline rolls into the ring to check on Blizzard, the Bastards roll out, holding their titles high above their heads as they walk to the back, and Anarchy fades to black.

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Copyright © 2025 - The Xtreme Wrestling Federation - Established 1999
All Rights Reserved


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“That hobbling weasel really did try to kill us.”

THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO CONTRIBUTED TO THIS SHOW!

MATCH WRITERS
NICKLE IF YOU… umm BICKLE(!)
PETER’S TOO GOOD FOR THIS
BASH MAN BARRY MASTER OF THE UNIVERSE
SCOOPLES MCAWESOMEFACE
A KING IS IN THERE SOMEWHERE

SEGMENT WRITERS
A BRIDGE OVER DOLLY WATERS
GRAVY? TURKEY OR BEEF?
BIG CORPORATE MONEY GREED TITANS

THE JUDGES

VINNIE’S VENUES

AND EVERYONE WHO RP’D!
]]> <![CDATA[(SONS OF) ANARCHY - 8/7/25]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=49149 Thu, 07 Aug 2025 21:08:07 -0700 Jimmy Stars]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=49149

(THUNDER) KNUCKLE SALOON TAKEOVER!
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08 - 07 - 2025

LIVE! FROM OUTSIDE KNUCKLE SALOON

STURGIS, SOUTH DAKOTA



NEW RIDER MATCH

MARISOL VILARO
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX

Singles
Winner to receive a brand-new(ish) Harley-Davidson and a matching helmet! Then sent out on the town!
(Gas sold separately.)


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TURF WAR (LUMBER-GANG) MATCH

MICHAEL SAINT
- vs -
PRESTON VANDERLAY ESQUIRE

Saint and PVE may invite their "gangs" down to the ring to enforce the outside!
(Lumberjack Match Rules)


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STURGIS BAR FIGHT

SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
REGGIE ESTRADA
- vs -
THIAS WATTS

Triple Threat Bar Room Brawl
We'll cut to the inside of the Knuckle Saloon where these three will duke it out with no disqualifications until one of them is declared the winner by pinfall or submission!


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BIKE BONEYARD MATCH

CELESTINE GALE
- vs -
INQUISITION

Taking place in a nearby scrapyard, this no disqualification match can only end when one combatant buries the other under old, rusty bike parts! Winner will be declared when a standing ten count cannot be reached!
(Last Person Standing Rules)


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BIKER CHAIN BRAWL

ATARA RAVEN
- vs -
AIDEN COLLINS

Raven and Collins will be tethered to one another at the wrist by a 12-foot length of solid steel biker chain! Winner must touch all four turnbuckles in succession to secure victory.
(Strap Match Rules)


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PATCH-IN CO-MAIN

MR. OZ
- vs -
XXXVI

Oz defends his claim to the Revo #1 Contendership against XXXVI! Falls count anywhere, and we're starting this match in the parking lot itself, in the center of a circle of bikes! (Parking Lot Brawl)


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REVOLUTION CHAMPIONSHIP
THUNDER KNUCKLE SALOON MATCH

THUNDER KNUCKLES ©
- vs -
MATTHIAS SYN

The ring ropes will be replaced with STEEL CHAIN and the turnbuckle pads replaced with STUDDED LEATHER. No disqualifications, only Anarchy in its purest form!
Singles




Plumes of Blue and White pyrotechnics shoot out from tubes around the makeshift entry ramp on the stage and mark the start of our show! On this momentous occasion, the XWF has set up camp in the Parking Lot of the Knuckle Saloon for this High-Octane edition of Thursday Night ANARCHY!!! Hundreds of fans surround the ring on this warm South Dakota evening, some making their way in and out of the nearby bar to re-up on refreshments. Even still, there are hundreds, nay, millions more who are watching and x-streaming LIVE from their homes!!!

As soon as the pyros finish, "Lithium" by Nirvana hits over the speakers, officially welcoming XWF fans to yet another edition of their favorite syndicated full-contact wrestling show, which we lovingly refer to as "The A-Show".


TODD: Ohhh yes — now *that’s* how you start a show.

BAMA: Hell yeah it is! Ain’t nothin’ like Nirvana blastin’ through the speakers to let the neighbors know it’s Anarchy time.

The Anarchy announce team is at ringside, preparing for a night filled with action!!  With "Lithium" still playing over the speakers the cameras pan around to those few lucky and avid members of the Anarchy faithful from all ages, races, creeds & colors screaming on the tops of their lungs, proudly wearing their XWF Merchandise and holding up signs for their favorite (or least favorite) stars:


DOLLY! DOLLY! DOLLY!

BLACK RAINBOW BIKER CLUB

LARRY IS THE GREATEST #TACTFACT

ADIAN COLLINS IS MY SPIRIT DEMON

TK ISN'T GOING TO BE OK

15/15

DON'T F*CK WITH OZZY

MICHAEL IS NO SAINT

WELLNESS CHECK ON FRANCES? PLEASE?

I ONLY CAME TO SEE ATARA!

THIAS 3:16

SOMEBODY START A SEB CASH-IN COUNTDOWN

WE MISS YOU JAMES SHARK!!!


The fans both sitting and standing in this unique venue are murmuring and ready to get this SEVEN match card of XWF’s Anarchy underway! Many have been waiting patiently for the start of the show for quite a while, but on the nearby street, there are motors revving and bikes flying down the highway. There's black leather, copious amounts of alcohol, and cigarette smoke as far as the eyes can see and the nose can smell.

The hard cam pans around the ongoing rally catching glimpses of the constant motorcade.

TODD: That’s right! A little "Lithium" to set the tone, a couple kegs on standby, and a ring surrounded by Harleys and chaos — welcome, everyone, to THURSDAY NIGHT ANARCHY, live from the parking lot of the legendary Knuckle Saloon in beautiful STURGIS, SOUTH DAKOTA!

BAMA: The beer is cold, the leather’s hot, and my chihuahua Sassafras already bit two camera guys — we’re off to a great start, Todd.

TODD: Folks, if you see a two-pound blur of fury running around the tech tent, do not attempt to pet her. She's working.

BAMA: She’s security certified. I laminated a badge and everything.

TODD: You’re a treasure, Bama. And listen — I just want to say how thrilled I am to have you back here at the desk. I mean it. You’re a legend, and this show is better with you on it.

BAMA: Hell, I appreciate that, brother. Always a pleasure to ride shotgun on a night like this.

TODD: And thankfully, Jimmy Stars is nowhere in sight. For those wondering — no, he hasn’t been fired (unfortunately), but he has been suspended without pay after being caught selling a “Hall of Legends” induction spot to Preston Vanderlay Esquire.

BAMA: Lord have mercy. That man would sell the moon if he thought he could get a T-shirt deal out of it.

TODD: He’s lucky we didn’t let Sassafras settle it in the parking lot.

BAMA: She was ready! I even got her one of those little "Legend" robes from the merch tent.

TODD: She deserves it more than Preston does. But anyway — tonight is about carnage, titles, and the smell of gasoline and hubris. We’ve got scrapyard brawls, bar fights, biker chain matches... it’s like someone let the apocalypse book the show.

BAMA: And thank God they did. Ain’t a damn thing out here tonight that ain't pure XWF. Let’s light this powder keg.

TODD: We’re kicking things off with the New Rider Match — Marisol Vilaro vs. Latoya Hixx. Winner gets a brand-new(ish) Harley and a matching helmet — gas sold separately.

BAMA: No gas, no problem. Vilaro’s probably gonna try to livestream herself riding off, but Latoya’s been hangry lately. Could be a short trip if Marisol hits a speed bump named HIXX.

TODD: After that, things escalate fast with a Turf War — Lumber-Gang Rules. Michael Saint vs. Preston Vanderlay Esquire, and they’ve both handpicked ringside muscle.

BAMA: You ever see a legal team and a motorcycle club square off at ringside? Me neither. But I brought popcorn and a tire iron just in case.

TODD: Then it’s into the Sturgis Bar Fight — Summer Page, Reggie Estrada, and Thias Watts in a triple threat taking place inside the Knuckle Saloon itself.

BAMA: You can smell the bourbon and blood already. Somebody’s going through a bar table, guaranteed. And if Thias starts throwing shots, that don’t mean tequila.

TODD: Then we take a short trip to a long night in the Bike Boneyard Match — Celestine Gale takes on Inquisition in a Last Person Standing fight... with a twist.

BAMA: That twist being you gotta bury your opponent under a mound of busted motorcycles. It’s like a scrapyard funeral with steel toe boots.

TODD: Then we’ve got a chain-wrapped classic — the Biker Chain Brawl between Atara Raven and Aiden Collins. Tethered at the wrist, steel between them, and four turnbuckles to win.

BAMA: Atara might not have the bulk, but she’s got fury and footwork. Collins better watch that mouth — she might just wrap that chain around his teeth.

TODD: From there we move to our Patch-In Co-Main Event: Mr. Oz defends his #1 Contendership against XXXVI — and this one starts in a circle of bikes in the damn parking lot.

BAMA: It ain’t a match, it’s a biker brawl with a ref. Winner gets a future shot at the Revolution Title. Loser gets tire tracks on his spine. And I don’t think Oz really wants a piece of TK if he wins — but that's dependent on if TK wins...

TODD: Which brings us to the main event: Thunder Knuckles defends the Revolution Championship in his own backyard — the Thunder Knuckle Saloon Match. Chain ropes. Studded leather turnbuckles. No disqualifications.

BAMA: TK’s home turf. Home rules. But Matthias Syn? He was our longest reigning Revolution Champ for a reason. That boy don’t blink. He’s like a rattlesnake hiding under a Bible. You mess up once, he coils.

TODD: And don’t forget — if Syn wins, the entire landscape changes. The Revolution Division could find itself in darker hands than ever before.

BAMA: That’s the beauty of it, Todd. We don’t know how it’s gonna shake out. But whatever happens, it’s gonna hurt.

TODD: Seven matches. One wild night. And we’re bringing it to you live from the heart of 85th Biker Rally in Sturgis!

BAMA: Let’s crack some skulls and raise some hell. Sassafras just howled — I think that means we’re ready.

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This next match is brought to you courtesy of:

[Image: blackhillshd-logo.png]

Join us out on the open road at the Rally at Exit 55…
Become a new rider today!

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The crowd pops as current reigning Anarchy champion, ‘Micheal Graves’ (allegedly) is seen walking through the corridors of the XWF backstage area…

He makes it outside the office door of Anarchy GM…

Taped over the door, it reads…

My Office is Locked while I’m appealing my unjust suspension!

DON’T TOUCH MY STUFF! I LEFT IT WHERE I MEANT TO!


…

”Alright. I toldja…” ‘Graves’ exhales, almost like he knew this would happen, as he reaches for his ankle. ”What did I say would happen if you weren’t in your office, Jimmy?”

“THIS would happen.” ‘Graves’ pulls out a bottle of alcohol with a rag in it….

”And what is ‘this’? Your office getting burned d-”

”*ahem* Mister… ‘Graves’?

‘Graves’ turns around. Who’s behind him… But long-time XWF news correspondent Steve Sayors!

”Oh. Hey, Steve-O.” ‘Graves’ grins ear-to-ear in a friendly manner as he reaches into his other pocket for a lighter. ”You might wanna step back! Bet that Axe body spray you douse yourself in is HIGHLY flammable!”

”Uh, before you do that! I have a message!”

”...Message?”

”From Mister Stars! He’s immensely regretful his suspension has prevented him from opening his office to you… But, he wanted to offer you the opportunity to talk on the air!”

”...Talk? About what?”

”Anything! Air your grievances! Talk up your reign, the longest-ever in Anarchy championship history! We’ve got the set ready…”

…

‘Graves’ looks at the ingredients to a molotov cocktail in his hand… Reeeeeeeally weighing his options.

…

Sayors sweats… What if ‘Graves’ is right about the Axe?

…

”Yeeeeeeeeeeeah, fine. Lead the way, Steve-o-lution.”

Sayors lights up and the two disappear down the hall.

TODD: Looks like Jimmy found a way to avoid his office getting torched! Later tonight, we’ll see an exclusive interview between Steve Sayors and the Anarchy champion, ‘Micheal Graves’ himself!

…

TODD: Allegedly.

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TODD: Folks, our opening match tonight promises to be an absolute thrill ride!

BAMA: And one of these women is going home with a brand spankin’ new(ish) Harley Davidson! And this match is sponsored by Black Hills Harley-Davidson®.  Your full-service Harley-Davidson® dealership in Western South Dakota! Every day, the fine specialists at Black H-

TODD: Why don’t we save the ad reads for the commercial breaks, Bama?

BAMA: I am a professional, Toddrick! And I was told if I don’t do the whole ad-read, Jimmy’s gonna take it outta my paycheck.

…

BAMA: so, *ahem* Buy Harley-Davidsons!

By ringside is a (nearly) brand new Harley Davidson chopper!

TODD: Neat!



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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!

TODD: Latoya Hixx! One of the strongest women in the wrestling world! One of the most incredible physical specimens to ever grace the squared circle!

BAMA: She’s more than big, Todd! She’s large!

TODD: Every week, Hixx promises this is the week she turns it around. This week, she’ll take the first step to securing her first bit of gold in the XWF! She’s got the physical gifts, she just needs to fine-tune the mental game. Can she start on that road tonight towards championship gold?

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!

…

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 was already dominating Thursday nights before her recent joining with the dark cloud looming over all of the XWF, Black Rainbow! Now, she and her manager, the Ambitchous One, the “Snarktopous” Nessa Wall, are poised to take over the entire XWF!

BAMA: You ain’t kiddin’, Todd! Mari… sorry, what was that you said?

TODD: Poised to takeover the ent-

BAMA: Before that.

TODD: …Dark cloud looming ov-

BAMA: After that.

TODD: …Uh… she and her manager, Ambitchous One, the “Snarktopous” Nessa Wall?

…

STARS: Huh. AmBITCHous.

…

TODD: Uh… anyway. Point being, Marisol is climbing to even higher heights in the XWF! A victory tonight would see her have an even stronger claim to the top of Anarchy’s echelons!

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: …Two VERY game competitors with two… VERY… long entrances, huh, Bama?

BAMA: I’m on the PHONE, Todd. Yes, US Trademark office? Could you check if anyone owns the rights to put ‘Ambitchous One’ on t-shirts?

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…

TODD: This is a matchup of raw power versus… precision cruelty. Latoya is one of the strongest women in the game—but Mari? She’s not just strong. She’s disciplined. And that might be the difference tonight.

BAMA: Disciplined, dominant, dangerous—this is why she’s the face of the Black Rainbow. The Thursday night flagship of the franchise, some might say.

TODD: When you say ‘some might say’... did Jimmy Stars tell you to say that, Bama?

BAMA: …I need the money, Toddy boy. As the youths say, ‘stop blowing up mah spot.’

Latoya Hixx paces in her corner, bouncing on the balls of her feet, jaw set tight. Her nostrils flare, muscles tense beneath her tank-like frame. Her eyes burn with indignation—she sees Marisol across the ring, not just as competition, but as audacity. A smaller woman daring to stand across from her.

Nessa gives her client a thumbs-up before ducking between the ropes to the outside… Marisol Vilaró, expression calm but eyes electric, adjusts her elbow pad with a slow, deliberate motion. She smiles—but not warmly. Her lips curl at the corner, like she already knows how this ends.

DING DING!


NEW RIDER MATCH

MARISOL VILARO
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX

Singles
Winner to receive a brand-new(ish) Harley-Davidson and a matching helmet! Then sent out on the town!
(Gas sold separately.)


Latoya explodes forward, shouting as she charges for a lock-up, lips curled in a sneer, arms wide.

Marisol doesn't meet her in kind. Her eyes flick up in amused surprise, then narrow as she smoothly ducks low and pivots, stepping around Latoya’s flank like a matador.

Latoya stumbles forward off-balance, blinking rapidly, momentarily unsure how she didn’t just overpower her.

TODD: Ole! Latoya came in expecting a shove-fest. Mari didn’t even offer one.

BAMA: That’s what separates the elite from the ELITE of the elite, Toddrick! Mari’s not going to wrestle Latoya’s match—she’s going to make Latoya wrestle hers.

Latoya spins around in the corner, ready for another attack…But Mari calmly paces around the ring, keeping that matador energy…

TODD: Mari, clearly looking to exploit Latoya’s brash, explosive energy, looking to let herself tire her out and let her elite-level conditioning carry her to victory!

Latoya’s face flashes anger. Her jaw clenches, and she slaps her own chest, growling. She turns with her arms raised again—this time slower, calculating. She stalks Mari with her shoulders hunched forward, attempting a feint to bait her in.

Marisol's brow arches—not mocking, but as if she’s seeing a toddler pretend to be a tiger. She obliges the approach, stepping in, only to instantly catch Latoya's arm…

Twist! Spinning wrist lock sprawls Latoya down the mat!

TODD: WOW! Latoya is genuinely one of the strongest competitors on the roster! And Vilaro just dropped her on her front effortlessly!

BAMA: #VilaroFit, baby!

Latoya grits her teeth, eyes going wide as her arm’s wrenched unnaturally into a hammerlcok behind her back. Her face scrunches—not just from pain, but confusion. She knows she’s stronger. How is she stuck like this?

Mari lets her lock sink in deeper, dragging Hixx lower and lower to the mat, as if Hixx was sinking in quicksand!

TODD: Hixx has to make a move now or this one could be over in record time!

Hixx grits her teeth!

With the unique grunt starkly close to that of a Bulgarian tennis player, Hixx grunts, whipping her other arm across in a wild back elbow!

…Mari whips her head back, barely being grazed by the elbow! Mari releases the hold gracefully, pirouetting back a step.

TODD: That elbow was VICIOUS! If Mari hadn’t released the hold, her head might have gotten knocked into the third row!

Hixx spins around, having been freed from the hold…

…Mari flexes one arm casually—demonstrating control—then smirks, clearly inviting Latoya to try again.

TODD: Despite her near-decapitation experience, Mari looks completely in control!

BAMA: Like a shepherd guiding a lamb to a slaughter, Todd. Mari seems to know everything Latoya’s gonna do! It’s like she’s got Hixx working off a script is how deep Mari is in Latoya’s head!

Latoya growls through her teeth, face beet red. She rushes again…

Mari backs up!

TODD: Oh my! Possible miscalculation by Mari! She’s cornered!

Marisol’s shoulders are against the corner! Her eyes widen!

Hixx dives! Stinger Splash!

…But Marisol somersaults under, to the center of the ring! She springs to her feet, opening her hands, beckoning applause…

But Hixx caught herself on the ropes! She remains on the middle-rope!

TODD: Oh my! I think Mari thought Latoya would ram her skull into that turnbuckle like a bull! For once, Latoya put on the brakes and Mari has no idea!

BAMA: Wow. Maybe a dumb dog can learn a trick or two!

Latoya, not used to aerial maneuvers, slowly rotates to put herself in position to fly from the middle rope…

Mari turns around…

Hixx Leaps!

CROSSBODY!

TODD: Hixx connects! Possible major upset here!

Hixx hooks both of Mari’s legs with everything she’s got!

The official drops to count!

ONE!

TWO!

THR-NO! Mari finds the wherewithal to force the shoulder up

Latoya springs out of the pin from Mari’s kickout. She holds up three fingers? The official shakes his head, holding two in reply.

TODD: Hixx thought she had it there…

BAMA: But she’s still got the advantage for the moment! She can’t let it slip!

Mari is already rising off the mat, looking furious she was even briefly outthought by Hixx..

Latoya grunts, pulling herself up to her feet. As Mari rises back to a vertical base, Hixx throws a desperate…

HAYMAKER!

…But Mari ducks under! As Hixx’s fist sails by, Mari delivers a…

BOOT TO THE STOMACH!

TODD: Oooooof, I think that one went so deep, it hit Hixx in her jejunum!

Hixx doubles-over, collapsing to one knee…

As Mari hoists her into a front-facelock!

VILAROIZER!

TODD: Wow! The Vilaroizer! That’s gotta be it!

The official drops to count…

ONE!

TWO!

TH-...

Mari wrenches Latoya off the ground, holding the front-facelock…

TODD: Whoa! …Wait, I don’t think Latoya kicked out!

BAMA: Nope! I think that counter pissed Mari off! And she’s sending a message to Latoya! Next time, take your beating quietly!

Latoya’s arms dangle. Her mouth is open, tongue slightly out, eyes unfocused.

Mari heaves her through the air!

SECOND VILAROIZER!

TODD: Another picture-perfect suplex from Marisol! That’s gonna do it!

ONE!

TWO!

THR-...

…Once again, Mari heaves Latoya’s shoulder off the mat, holding her front-face lock!

TODD: Oh c’mon! This is unsportsmanlike! This is depraved!

BAMA: This is the Black Rainbow, Toddy! They don’t just want to beat their opponents! They want to sap the will to fight on from each and every member of the roster…

Latoya groans… Her feet struggle to support her weight, as she drops to one knee…

Mari finds the hard camera and stares into it, as she holds Latoya…

…

TODD: …Creepy.

THIRD VILAROIZER!

Pin. Hooking the leg deep.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

Winner: Marisol Vilaró


TODD: Three straight Vilaróizers. I think Latoya Hixx went into this match she’d out-muscle Marisol. Instead, she just got outclassed.

BAMA: Hixx got creative and got a lucky strike on Mari! And on a different night, maybe with a tighter pin? She could’ve stolen the victory! But facing an opponent like the Queen of #VilaroFit! She’s not gonna give you a second chance to put her in the ground if you miss the first one! She looked absolutely DOMINANT! And to the victory go the (basically) brand new spoils!

Mari creeps out the ring down the stairs, guided by her manager, the Snarktopus…

The two hop on the (allegedly) brand new Harley Davidson and drive up the ramp to the back!

TODD: Huh! Guess there was some gas in there! Welp, can’t wait to see Black Rainbow dip that Harley in black goo next week!

BAMA: You know who I bet could clean off that black goo that stains the cosmos itself? The good people at the service department of Black Hills Harley Davidson! For over twenty ye-

TODD: Please just go to commercial.

[Image: wireline.png]

[Image: LkEYxqp.png]

XWF LEAP OF FAITH '25
DID YOU MISS THE JUMP?

WATCH THE WHOLE THING AGAIN and Relive Every Bloody Step of LEAP OF FAITH — Streaming FREE* only on: XWF99.com!

*Free with a small, legally binding, 1,289-month subscription to the XWF X-STREAMing Service™ 
– Requires proof of soul ownership and signed waiver of morality – 
*Otherwise it’s $19.99 and your dignity

[Image: wireline.png]

The camera cuts through the crowd gathered outside the Knuckle Saloon. Rows of motorcycles line the streets. Bikers, fans, and locals pack shoulder to shoulder, chanting, drinking, and waving signs that read things like “I CAME FOR THE VEGGIE PLATTER AND STAYED FOR THE TITS” and “ANARCHY RULEZ”. Pyro shoots into the sky as the XWF logo flashes across the big screen mounted on the stage.

TODD: Sturgis, South Dakota, home to the biggest biker rally on the planet and tonight, home to XWF Anarchy! We take you outside the Knuckle Saloon where we have a very special talent showcase.

The crowd goes nuts as the sound of a motorcycle revving. Two motorcycles burst through the entrance and they slide to a stop near the stage. Them No Good Bastards have arrived, they dismount their bikes, and walk on to stage, Thunder Knuckles wearing his half of the Anarchy Tag Team Championships around his waist, Revolution Championship slung over his shoulder, and has a megaphone in hand. Bobby Bourbon also has his Anarchy Championship around his waist, but he has the Xtreme Championship slug over his shoulder. TK raises the megaphone and yells over the wild crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen, degenerates and deviants, welcome to the first-ever Bastard Wet T-Shirt Showdown! Brought to you by Anarchy, Industrial road goop, and the XWF’s lack of a human resources department!"

Bobby Bourbon is twirling a foam #1 finger, smirking, TK hands him the megaphone.

"That’s right, we told management we wanted a ‘talent showcase,’ and they gave us a blank check! Nothing says talent, real solid talent, than a Midwestern wet t-shirt contest!"

The crowd goes wild.

"Now, here’s how this works. Six contestants, one bucket of water, one t-shirt, and two judges who’ve been banned from judging anything in 48 states. ME and the big bad of big bads, your Xtreme Champion Bobby Bourbon!"

"We have very specific criteria; originality, enthusiasm, congeniality, some questions where the contestant can say something about world peace, and… uh… let's be honest, the less that shirt’s doing its job, the better your score!"

TK is grinning like the devil himself.

"Alright, Anarchy! Let’s get this party fuckin' started! These ladies are about to show us why wet t-shirts were invented in the first place. I’m talkin’ pure talent and by talent, I mean titties!"

Bobby Bourbon begins to chuckle, pointing the foam finger to the crowd.

"Hey now, TK, it ain’t just about the titties. These women are good people with big hearts, big dreams, and yeah, chesticles so chestacular you forget to care if they have a booty or a nass."

The crowd of bikers cheer for boobies. The first contestant, Mandi, steps up and gets soaked. The crowd pops, and TK leans forward with a giant smile on his face.

"Now that is championship level cleavage right there! Mandi, you’re a ten outta ten in my book."

"She’s a wonderful competitor, man. You can tell she’s got spirit, confidence, and yeah. Those are top-tier tatas. She should definitely take the stage again."

Thunder Knuckles nods, eyes scanning the lineup.

"Yeah, but you gotta give Courtney a chance, Bobby."

Courtney steps up, looking nervous, it doesn’t look like she’s packing much heat indeed her white t-shirt. TK shrugs. Bobby Bourbon starts encouraging Courtney.

"She’s got a big heart, TK. This is her moment."

Thunder Knuckles half-hearted not seeing anything special in Courtney.

"Bro, Courtney might not have what it takes here..."

That's when she's splashed with the water. Her shirt clings perfectly, the crowd explodes for Courtney’s perfect tits! TK's eyes widen.

"Holy shit...nevermind, those tits were deceiving! Courtney, goddamn girl!"

Next up, Glady takes the stage, a 72-year-old woman with confidence to spare. Before the water hits, she removes her dentures, winks at TK, and gives his own signature jerking-off motion by her mouth, much like Syn did in his promotional material against TK. The crowd loses it while TK looks horrified and takes a step back. Bobby Bourbon starts laughing, taking a step back too.

"She's all yours, TK."

"Fuck no."

Gladys gets splashed anyway, proudly raising her arms to a mix of cheers and laughter. Bobby wipes his eyes from laughing.

"Look, I’m taking Mandi and Courtney to get ice cream after this. You… you can figure out what to do with Gladys."

TK shaking his head, chuckling.

"I’m gonna need fuckin' therapy after this shit, man. If James Shark didn't flunk out, maybe I coulda got his therapist's number."

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU BASTARDS DOING?!”

The party vibes inside the saloon suddenly come screeching to a halt. The saloon doors bust open, and out walks the one and only NICKLEMAN. The music scratches as everyone turns their necks to face the embodiment of the XWF’s Corporate Authority.

Charlie walks past a gaggle of horned up bikers, sneering at them with disdain. Once Charlie passes through enough of the debauchery to reach TK and Bobby, he grabs his suitjacket and gives it a fierce tug before addressing them.

“Whatever this is, it ends now!”

The Nickleman yells at TK and Bobby as he looks around the Wet T-shirt contest, which is packed to the brim with drunken, horned-up bikers.

“Who the hell is paying for this syphilis show?!”

TK bears a shit-eating grin as he pulls out the ‘Talent Showcase’ check, which is hand signed by Charlie Nickles.

“Well…you are, Charlie!”

Charlie’s mouth drops and his eyes go wide as TK hands him the blank check, complete with Charlie’s signature. A comically sized bead of sweat drips down Charlie’s forehead.

“This check was for an XWF Talent Showcase! This isn’t a talent showcase, this is a god-damned AIDs party!”

The Nickleman rips the blank check up into a million little pieces, throwing them at the feet of Them No Good Bastards.

“You Bastards lied to me on your paperwork to get funding for THIS?!?!”

“We promised a talent showcase, Charlie! We didn’t fuckin’ lie!”

“Yeah, what TK said! Are you on drugs again, Charlie?”

Nickles wipes a speck of white powder from his nose as he sniffles through a retort.

“What?! No, of course not!”

“Well…do you want to be?”

TK pulls a handful of drugs from out of his pocket. A few marijuna nugs, a few pills, you know, the usual stuff! Charlie swats TK’s hand away.

“Let me guess: Corporate Dollars paid for those, too?!”

Them No Good Bastards share a no-look fist bump as Charlie flies into a rage.

“You Bastards have no respect for this company, no respect for this brand, and no respect for ME, your Acting General Manager AND Official XWF Corporate Liaison!

But don’t you fucking worry, boys…because I know lessons can only be learned the hard way in this company.

And ohhhhh boy Teekz, do you got a fuckin’ lesson coming your way tonight.

Matthias.

Syn.”

Charlie lets the name linger in the air like a hot knife, slicing through the silent tension.

“252 days, Teekz.

Syn held that belt longer than you’ve ever held anything in your fucking life.

Well, except for that crush on Bobby.”

“Four years and counting.”

TK rolls his eyes and gives his often imitated jerking off hand gesture.

“If Matthias Syn wants that belt back, Tee-Kay, he’ll take it back- that’s not even in question. But your greasy little fingers have already defiled that title, so tonight’s Main Event isn’t about your Revolutionary trinket anymore.

Tonight’s Main Event is about one thing, and one thing only, my Bastardly Brothers:

Tonight, Matthias Syn is teaching all you Revolutionaries backstage a god-damned lesson in RESPECT!”

The Nickleman has worked himself into a panting lather, breathing hot and heavy as TK and Bobby just look at each other with bemused bewilderment.

“So this little biker shindig you two were throwing on company time?

Consider it over!

And as far as your Revolutionary hopes and dreams go?

Consider them dead in the damn water!

You Bastards can sit and worship at the altar of Chairwoman Waters all you want, but The Corporation will NEVER let you Revolutionary sycophants turn the XWF into some sorta SOVIET DIDDY-PARTY!!!

NEVER!!!!”

Charlie turns away from TNGB, and starts shutting down the entire party! He gets extremely aggressive with the attendees, pushing and kicking them towards the exit like literal cattle. The gathered crowd slowly thins out as Charlie goes up to everyone and screams in their face that if they don’t “GET THE FUCK OUT”, then they will “FIND THE FUCK OUT!”.

"The fuck are you even talking about Charlie?"

TK, puzzled, looks over at Bobby.

"Bro, I really think he’s on drugs."

Well, bro, I think it's time we had a come to Bastardly Father moment. I have been in the Revolution with Flynn, A.L.G.,  and Schism since day one. I kind of put them on hold to go win the Anarchy tags, but it's why you keep seeing us hang out.

TK shrugs because both things could be true.

”I’m not in the Revolution am I?”

”No, no, I don’t think you are? Doesn’t matter, Syn’s doomed no matter who he’s affiliated with.”

”Facts.”

Bobby addresses the thinning crowd.

”Alright, everybody, Charlie sucks and is going to just make a ton of noise here until we stop and doesn’t wanna see top tier boobies. So, I guess, this whole segment is over.”

Bobby looks over at Mandi and Courtney.

"Are you ladies ready to get some ice cream?”

Both of the ladies cling to Bobby’s arms, Glady heads their way but when she gets close TK shoves her old ass down. The Revolution, Xtreme, and Anarchy Tag Team Champions walk to the locker room, one to lay it down, and the other to lay Matthias Syn down.

TODD: Well... if you had 'Glady gets shoved' on your Anarchy bingo card, congratulations — you just hit a row.

BAMA: Man, I came here for the ribs and ended up seein’ the revolution get motorboated. Only in Sturgis, baby.

TODD: But now that the foam fingers and foam cups have been cleared away, it’s time to shift gears. Coming up next — no ice cream, no spray bottles — just pure violence.

BAMA: Time for a little bit of a Turf War!

[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: This next match features two of the newest additions to the Anarchy roster! Two explosive personalities looking to take Thursday Nights by storm!

BAMA: Two very bright futures, Todd! And one of them is already an XWF Legend!

TODD: Oh Jesus, Bama,you can’t be serious?!?



The opening riff of Save Yourself hits the PA system and crimson lighting casts over the arena.

A few moments pass by and Saint steps into a spotlight with his head lowered and his arms outstretched like a martyr, he welcomes his disciples to stand beside him.

Both the Angels of Malice and Valerie Morgan stand behind him, their shadow silhouetted on the ramp before him. Hoods mask their faces as they escort Saint to the ring.

TODD: “Midnight” Michael Saint, self-described as “Your Savior”... He claims he’s here to rid wrestling of its filth and disease rotting it from within! And he made crystal clear his opinion on his… “opponent” tonight. Calling him cowardly and ignorant, trading suffering for spectacle! He’s promised to personally inflict the suffering that his opponent has managed to avoid up to this point!

Morgan hops onto the apron and separates the ropes for Saint and bows her head in his presence. Saint gets into the ring and sits on the canvas in the corner while his disciples disappear into the darkness before the lights come back on. Valerie Morgan takes a seat at ringside in her black chair, staff in hand.



“Paper Planes” by M.I.A. hits the speakers. The arena blacks out completely as a cold robotic voice echoes:

“Please stand by for a priority broadcast from the office of Preston Vanderlay Esquire… Wrestling’s Wealthiest Winner.”

A massive golden “V” lights up on the titantron. Suddenly, the curtain parts, not for Preston, but for two identically dressed male attendants in tuxedos, who roll out an absurdly long red carpet lined with gold trim, leading all the way to ringside. They are followed by a fog machine team in full uniform, blasting synthetic mist infused with a $700 designer cologne.

The beat drops, and the words “Take your money” pulse with the lights, right as a custom-built gold-plated luxury mobility throne rises from beneath the stage. Reclining in it like a Roman emperor is Preston Vanderlay Esquire, draped in a white silk trench coat with golden lapels, his sunglasses gleaming with his initials etched on them.

BAMA: And here he is! PRESTON. VANDERLAY ESQUIRE. XWF LEGEND!

TODD: Oh shuddup, Bama! The fact this rich idiot was ‘given’ a spot in the XWF Hall of Legends before he’s even competed in a match is demeaning to the accomplishments of every ACTUAL legend in there!

BAMA: …Jeez. Tell us how you really feel, Todd! Look, as a manager and talent seeker, sometimes, you have to roll the dice. Sometimes you see an unopened treasure chest and you take a chance on the contents being astounding. In the long run, perhaps Jimmy Stars will be recognized for seeing Preston Vanderlay Esquire for the legend that he is before anyone else ever did!

TODD: Jimmy doesn’t have the power to decide who does or doesn’t go in the Hall of Legends!

BAMA: Semantics!

PVE’s not alone. Flanking him on each side in slow, synchronized choreography are his disciples Briggs Wellington, Dashford Luxe, and Regan Vale.

Briggs Wellington stomps down first, arms crossed, cracking his neck, dressed in an emerald suit-vest over tactical gear. Dashford Luxe flips onto the ramp out of nowhere, striking a pose midair before moonwalking partway down like he’s dancing through stock options. Regan Vale walks while cracking knuckles that are clad in black leather gloves. Her eyes are wild and yearning.

As Preston’s throne glides forward on a hidden track, attendants throw faux stock certificates and shredded cease-and-desist orders into the crowd like confetti. Gold sparks rain from the ceiling while a voiceover plays:

“Introducing the undisputed architect of all victory… Wrestling’s one true trust fund tactician… PRESTON. VANDERLAY. ESQUIRE.”

At ringside, a plush ottoman step unit is rolled into place. Preston stands, slowly removes his jacket, and hands it to an assistant like it’s a crown jewel. His disciples form a loose triangle behind him as he ascends the stairs one step at a time, pausing on the apron to scan the crowd with visible disdain.

TODD: Not only did Preston Vanderlay Esquire install his own shrine in the XWF Hall of Legends… He also opened a poll as to which Legend should be REMOVED so he can take their spot. And when two legends tied… He destroyed them both! Both James Raven AND Lee Stone have had their spaces destroyed by PVE!

BAMA: You know what it takes to be a legend? Audacity! And Preston Vanderlay Esquire has it in spades! He’s not hampered by respect or awe for the men and women that came before him… Only the possibility of what he can bring to the ring!

TODD: He’s not even getting in the ring, Bama! He’s sitting outside and one of his three lackeys is going to compete for him!

STARS: Innovating the game in a whole new way!

Inside the ropes, Dashford lounges in the corner like a smug hype man, Briggs looms with arms raised and flexed, and Regan paces slowly in a circle like a predator. Preston raises one hand to his temple, smiles like he just closed a billion-dollar deal, and steps to the center as fireworks go off indoors.

After a few more seconds of the crowd booing the fuck out of him, Preston activates his Freebird Rule clause and selects one of his three student-diciples to fight for him… Regan Vale!

BAMA: Regan won the poll, and Preston is nothing if not a man of the people!

Saint stares daggers as Preston who carefully shimmies down from the apron, flanked by his two disciples not actively competing… As Regan smiles sadistically, daring him with her eyes to keep looking at her boss rather than her.

DING DING!


TURF WAR (LUMBER-GANG) MATCH

MICHAEL SAINT
- vs -
PRESTON VANDERLAY ESQUIRE

Saint and PVE may invite their "gangs" down to the ring to enforce the outside!
(Lumberjack Match Rules)



TODD: Here we go, the debut of Michael Saint and the… “debut”... of Preston Vanderlay Esquire, by his proxy, Regan Value!

BAMA: You couldn’t have two more opposite competitors! A walking cautionary tale for the industry—and across from him? The definition of controlled aggression: Regan Vale, handpicked and battle-hardened by none other than Preston Vanderlay Esquire.

Inside the ring, Saint and Regan lock eyes.

Saint’s stare is cold, steady, calculating. Regan’s posture is loose but deadly—like a fuse waiting to spark. They circle once—twice—and then engage in a tight collar-and-elbow tie-up.

TODD: They’re locking up with a collar-and-elb… Whoa, Saint with the early leverage—waistlock… Into a standing switch by Regan! Beaut- wait, Standing switch back! Saint has it!

BAMA: These two are moving so quick through the chain-wrestling sequence, Todd’s getting tongue-tied trying to call it!

Saint transitions from a rear-waistlock, bullying Valee into a side headlock—tight and snug—Regan grits her teeth and slips backwards out of Saint’s grip, grabbing a wristlock! Saint nods slightly as if approving, recognizing a fellow competitor of the industry he’s here to save…

TODD: A fascinating difference here… I think Saint truly admires the wrestlers in PVE’s employ… but he hates PVE for refusing to get his hands dirty himself!

BAMA: Close minded, Toddy baby! Won’t someone think of the hard work PVE does orchestrating this trio of top-tier talent! If Regan wins tonight, PVE was the architect of the victory! Of course he deserves the win!

TODD: And if Saint pulls itself, the XWF “Legend” will have an XWF record of 0-and-1!

In a flash, Saint spins out, traps Vale’s arm, and slides her down into a hammerlock. Regan grits her teeth, flipping over to reverse the pressure and grab a headscissors!

TODD: Wow! These two are trading tit-for-tat, every exchange, the other is mounting a counter for!

BAMA: This is what I’m talking about! Michael Morgan, before his transformation, was one of the best talents in the entire wrestling industry! And look at Preston Vanderlay Esquire, holding his own!

TODD: …REGAN VALE is holding her own, Bama! Preston is standing outside the ring!

BAMA: Architecting his disciple toward victory!

Saint kips out—fluid—and BAM! A spinning backfist straight to Regan’s jaw!

TODD: Wow! That a strike might have knocked a screw loose in Regan’s noggin… If she had any screws in the correct spots from the get-go! She is immensely in the ring, but may also be deranged!

Regan hits the ropes, dazed, and tumbles over the top rope and straight outta the ring—landing at the feet of the Angels of Malice and Valerie Morgan

TODD: Uh-oh. Regan Vale’s in dangerous territory now!

BAMA: And here’s where the PVE branding breaks down, Todd—because those aren't just Saint’s allies. That’s a cult. And they don’t do marketing deals… they render JUDGMENT!

The Angels of Malice step forward in eerie silence, arms crossed. Valerie stands still, tilting her head, smiling.

For a moment, it seems like they’re poised to swoop upon Regan… But Saint barks them back!

BAMA: The HELL is Saint doing? Calling off his lumberjacks?!?

TODD: As he said in his promo, Michael Saint doesn’t hate the disciples of Preston Vanderlay Esquire… He pities them. Calls them slaves! What purpose would it serve beating down one undeserving of Saint’s judgment, except a beatdown?

Regan glares up from one knee, no panic in her expression.

From the relative safety of the other side of the ring, PVE barks at Vale to get back in there!

Vale darts back into the ring with no hesitation.

TODD: No fear from Regan Vale. That’s those MMA instincts coming into play!

BAMA: That’s why Preston picked her! AND that’s why the Vanderlay brand is undefeated—Preston Vanderlay Esquire doesn’t recruit. He acquires assets.

TODD: …I think undefeated might be overstating a record when he hasn’t actually wrestled yet…

BAMA: UNDEFEATED. XWF. LEGEND.

The moment Vale re-enters the ring, the two snaps back to their rapid-fire exchange of moves…

Vale tries to secure a front-facelock, but Saint side-steps deliberately—sweeping his foot under her ankle with a single leg takedown, then dropping a knee onto her throat! Regan kicks the mat, momentarily rattled, cradling her larynx!

BAMA: Y’know, kind of a mixed message to call off his goons, then drop a knee to crush Vale’s windpipe!

TODD: That’s Michael Saint’s game. He doesn’t sprint—he constricts. Saint’s suffocating her pace now!

BAMA: Also, just regular suffocating her!

After a few seconds driving his knee into Vale’s throat, Saint peels her off the canvas, lifts her with calm strength…

SNAP SUPLEX!

He floats over into a side headlock, twisting Vale’s neck against his chest…

Outside the ring, Preston Vanderlay is throwing his arms in the air, screaming into the void, demanding Value stop messing around and finish it!

TODD: Look at Preston! That’s a man whose stock is plummeting!

Back inside, Saint hooks Vale off the mat, maintaining his headlock, setting up forMidnight Hour (lifting double-arm DDT)l…

WHAM! Regan ducks low and counters with a picture-perfect side kick to the chest!

TODD: What a kick! And Saint is sent skyward!

Saint crashes over the ropes, flipping to the outside—right in front of Preston.

BAMA: OHHH BOY. That’s not just bad positioning. That’s a hostile takeover waiting to happen.

Preston doesn’t blink. He straightens his tie, points with authority.

Briggs Wellington and Dashford Luxe spring into action, launching pummeling blows and stomps to the back of Michael Saint!

BAMA: Oh dear, it looks like Preston Vanderlay Esquire is not extending the same kindness Saint did calling off his flock!

TODD: But here come the Angels of Malice! Looking malicious as ever!

The Angels of Malice intercept, catching Briggs and swinging wild fists. Valerie sprints in, slapping Dashford across the face so hard the crowd gasps.

TODD: CHAOS OUTSIDE! THE LUMBERJACKS ARE OFF THE LEASH!

BAMA: You wanted Anarchy? THIS is Anarchy!

The outside erupts—

Briggs trades fists with both Angels, roaring but outnumbered.

Dashford spins away from Valerie, only to get pulled back into a forearm.

Preston retreats a few steps, horrified, waving his arms like a man trying to stop a boardroom fire.

In the middle of the wreckage… Michael Saint rises. Face shadowed, eyes locked on Preston, a storm building behind them.

TODD: Saint’s back on his feet—and he’s looking right through Preston Vanderlay Esquire!

BAMA: No, no, no—Preston, baby, get outta there! This man does not do well with personal space!

Saint charges through the chaos, eyes locked on Preston—hand stretching out like he's about to drag a sin from the earth itself…

…

But Regan Vale launches herself through the ropes and smashes into Saint with a low diving shoulder tackle!

TODD: REGAN VALE! SLIDING IN HEADFIRST like Pete Rose at home plate! She just cut him off at the knees!

BAMA: Impeccable Timing! You can’t teach that—well, Preston can.

Both crash hard onto the floor as Dashford Luxe and Briggs Wellington keep Saint’s crew preoccupied, fists flying in all directions. Briggs tanks blows from both Angels of Malice, throwing haymakers back with ruthless rhythm. Dashford and Valerie are practically a blur—flips, elbows, screaming chaos.

TODD: This is a lumberjack match in name only—it’s an outright warzone outside that ring!

BAMA: Anarchy, baby! God I missed it!

Regan rises, grabs Saint by the head, and hurls him under the bottom rope with violent urgency.

She slides in after him—and just like that, Preston is suddenly all cheers and clapping, like he never even ran from the man moments ago.

TODD: Regan Vale setting up now—this could be it!

She pulls Saint upright—hooks the arms, rotates the hips—

BAMA: Here comes The Liquidation Event! Preston’s bread-and-butter!

…

But Saint slips free! A twist of the waist—Regan’s grip breaks—Saint seizes the moment and—

TODD: SNAP GERMAN SUPLEX!!

Regan is folded in half and bounces off the canvas! Saint holds the bridge!

ONE!

TWO!

THR-Regan kicks out!

TODD: SHE’S STILL IN IT!

BAMA: That’s Vanderlay durability, baby! Trademark resilience by PVE!

TODD: HE’S NOT EVEN IN THE RING, BAMA!

Saint rolls up to one knee, shaking out the cobwebs. Regan is slower to rise. Saint sees his window…

TODD: Saint setting up for Confessional!

Saint hits the ropes looking for that signature knee lift—

But Preston grabs his ankle from the outside!

TODD: HEY! What the—!

BAMA: Executive intervention! That’s… strategic disruption!

Saint skids to a halt and immediately turns, venom in his eyes.

…Preston is straightening his tie, turning his back, as if accomplishing himself on saving the m-

Suddenly, Saint reaches down over the ropes and grabs Preston by the collar, trying to drag him into the ring.

TODD: He’s got the architect of this whole circus by the neck!

BAMA: Call timeout! CALL TIMEOUT!

PVE is kicking and screaming, like a being dragged into Hell! Saint nearly has him in the ring…

CRACK!

Regan Vale nails Saint from behind with The Market Crash—that snap swinging neckbreaker lands flush!

BAMA: MARKET CRASH OUTTA NOWHERE! And Saint might be out cold!

Regan dives onto the cover—hooks the leg tight—

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

WINNER: PRESTON VANDERLAY ESQUIRE (via his proxy Regan Vale)


Outside the ring, the Angels of Malice are distracted by the bell’s ring… Which give PVE’s lackeys a window to break away with their boss and get back up the ramp!

TODD: What a travesty! What an absolute joke! Regan Vale took advantage of the distraction by PVE getting involved and… and…

BAMA: Say it, Todd! She got the win! Which contractually means Preston VANDERLAY Esquire won! Which makes him…

TODD: please don’t say it…

BAMA: AN UNDEFEATED XWF LEGEND!

TODD: *sigh* well, this definitely isn’t over between Michael Sant’s crew and Preston VANDERLAY Esquire! But tonight at least, PVE secures victory!

[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: Folks, this isn’t a match in a regular wrestling ring! We’re going straight to the ol’ Knuckle Saloon for an ol’ fashion barroom brawl!

BAMA: You ain’ lyin’, Toddy! We got three mean, sons a’ bitches, ready to tear each other limb-from-limb to score the ol’ W tonight!


STURGIS BAR FIGHT

SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
REGGIE ESTRADA
- vs -
THIAS WATTS

Triple Threat Bar Room Brawl
We'll cut to the inside of the Knuckle Saloon where these three will duke it out with no disqualifications until one of them is declared the winner by pinfall or submission!


The bell rings inside the Knuckle Saloon. The bikers press in from every corner, cheering, heckling, and recording on their phones.

TODD: Summer Page is standing with her arms crossed in the middle of the floor.

BAMA: Reggie Estrada is pacin’ like a man on a mission, hoodie still on, slappin’ his chest and getting in the faces of random fans.

TODD: Thias Watts is just standing there. Towering, unmoving, a seven-foot freak of nature.

Summer throws the first shot. She sprints toward Reggie and nails a running high knee to his chest, smashing him into a bar stool. Reggie flails, taking down a nearby cocktail table in the process.

TODD: The crowd is eating this up!

BAMA: Aaaaaaaand Thias still hasn’t moved. Still as a statute…

Summer turns to him with a smirk. She rushes Thias with a Chick Kick aimed high, but he catches her leg mid-air and hurls her like a sack of designer trash into a booth. Glass shatters and people scatter.

TODD: Summer seems dazed, Jimmy.

BAMA: She looks fine, but she’s not lookin’ WELL, if you catch my drift, Toddrick.

Reggie launches himself off a pool table, nailing a diving crossbody that finally sends the giant Thias Watts stumbling backward, crashing through a high-top table and snapping it clean. Reggie is on fire, screaming, punching, shadowboxing the air, whipping the crowd into a frenzy. He grabs a dartboard off the wall and frisbees it at Thias. WHAP! It hits the big man right in the neck.

BAMA: Thias shrugs that off like a mosquito bite!

TODD: That’s a big man, doing big man things!

Reggie tries a springboard DDT off the side of the bar, but Thias catches him in mid-air like a ragdoll. Thias Gorilla Presses Reggie into the air... and TOSSES HIM OVER THE BAR COUNTER into a rack of liquor bottles.

BAMA: NOT THE LIQUOR!

Thias turns, still breathing slow, it took a lot to throw Reggie like that. Summer Page is already back running across the bar stools. She dives! Tornado DDT to Thias into a bar table! The table doesn't break. It just buckles, making the impact even worse. She rolls off, wincing but fired up. Summer grabs a pool cue and jams the end of it into Reggie’s ribs as he tries to climb back over the bar, knocking him back down.

TODD: Reggie’s down!

BAMA: Summer seems to be comfy as a fox as the henhouse!

Summer points to the crowd, cocky as always. She tries for another strike, but Reggie grabs a bar rag soaked in whiskey and chucks it in her face. The distraction works, Reggie vaults over the bar again and catches Summer with a side suplex onto the bar floor.

BAMA: Spoke too soon, Todd! Is it time for Reggie Estrada to steal another victory?!?

Reggie goes to follow up but Thias is back and he’s pissed. He grabs a full bar stool and throws it like a missile, clocking Reggie in the back and dropping him face-first to the ground. Thias walks over, lifts Reggie with both hands like a parent scolding a toddler, and smashes his head against the bar. Reggie collapses like a dropped sack of bricks.

TODD: That had to hurt.

BAMA: Thank ya kindly, Captain Obvious.

Thias turns toward Summer, who’s crawling up using the bar to pull herself up. He charges like a bull but she moves! CRASH! Thias runs straight into the wall behind the bar, splitting the drywall and shaking the whole damn saloon. Summer pounces, dragging a broken pool cue across his throat while wrenching his arm behind him.

BAMA: That was ugly, mean, and one hundred percent Summer Page.

TODD: OH NO, WATCH OUT!

WHACK!

Reggie blindsides Summer with a kendo stick, ripping it across her back and then across Thias' chest. Reggie turns the stick and jabs it down onto Summer's spine, then leaps from the bar top with a senton across both of them!

BAMA: Bodies are everywhere.

The camera pans over a destroyed dartboard, shattered glass, and splinters of a pool cue still stuck in the drywall. A crowd of sweaty bikers chants “HOLY SHIT!” as Reggie Estrada stands tall on top of the bar, shadowboxing again, face half-lit by a flickering neon “Coors Light” sign.

TODD: I won’t lie, that does look pretty cool.

He leaps off with a Flying Elbow Drop aimed at Thias but the giant catches him mid-air, deadlift style, and spikes him into the hardwood with a thunderous release German suplex! Reggie flips, crashes, and skids through a puddle of beer and blood. Thias stalks forward, calm but dangerous, like a slasher villain in slow motion. Thais eyes lock on Summer, who’s just gotten to her feet using the broken jukebox for support. Thais charges.

BAMA: BIG BOOT!

TODD: No! Summer ducks.

Thias’ boot shatters the jukebox. Summer pops behind him, Tilt-a-Whirl into a Russian Leg Sweep, using Thias’ own momentum to drive him across a beer pong table, which buckles but doesn’t break. She backs up and adjusts her bra strap. Summer grabs a bar tray and frisbees it like a discus into Reggie’s skull as he starts to rise.


CLANG!


She stalks him down and grabs a handful of hair, dragging him near a dart table. Reggie shoves her off, then throws a handful of darts at her feet, like throwing down tacks. Summer instinctively hops up, and Reggie lets loose a Superkick to her in mid-air!

BAMA: WHAT A SUPER KICK! I LOVE SUPER KICKS!

Summer flips over a table, crashing into a biker chick’s lap. The woman cheers and spills her drink all over Summer's chest.

Reggie delivers the ol’ Haliburton choke at the pile of broken table and crumpled Page.

BAMA: I don’t know what’s come over Reggie Estrada, but when he delivers that taunt, he is LOCKED IN!

Reggie doesn’t waste a moment, grabbing a nearby fire extinguisher off the wall and BLASTS Thias with a cloud of white chemicals. Thias stumbles blindly.

TODD: Thias looks like he’s in trouble.


WHACK!


BAMA: He’s definitely in trouble now!


REG-KO! Reggie hits the RKO-style cutter onto a broken barstool frame!



1!


2!


Summer dives in and breaks it up with a code red, flipping Reggie off of Thias and into a pile of chairs. Breathing heavy and smeared with sweat, beer, and a little blood. She grabs a stool leg, wraps it in barbed wire someone left as décor, and begins wailing on Reggie’s back. Each strike draws welts and swelling.

TODD: Can you hear Reggie screaming in pain?

BAMA: Who can’t?

Thias rises again, slow and terrifying, blood trickling from a gash in his scalp. Summer swings the barbed leg, Thias blocks it with his forearm and CHOKESLAMS her into a booth, snapping the seat in half. He pulls her out of the wreckage by her arm like a child’s doll and sets up for the 3rd Ward Drop. Irish Whip into a support column, Summer slams spine-first into it.


TODD: Spine first into that beam!

BAMA: Summer is going to have a hard time walking tomorrow.


BIG SPLASH.


TODD: How often do you see a big man do that?!

BAMA: Thais Watts makes it look easy, that’s for sure!

He lifts her up... just as he sets for the Head-Out Tombstone, Reggie charges in with a BRICK and SMASHES Thias in the back of the knee! Thias drops to one leg, losing the hold. Reggie climbs the bar again.

BASHIN STUNNA!!!

From the bar top, down onto Thias’ neck! Thias is dazed, barely conscious. Reggie goes for the cover but there's no ref. It’s a bar. The crowd counts anyway.


1!


2! 


BAMA: Not this time!

TODD: This is unbelievable! Thais kicked out of a crowd counting the pin! Ever the showman!

Page pulls a tap handle off the bar and blasts Reggie with a fountain of stale IPA, blinding him long enough to grab a bottle, smash it over his head, and plant him with the "1999" Impaler DDT onto the floor.

TODD: That’ll do it if she can make the cover!

Page leans down to make the cov-

FLASH! Bright floodlights flood the bar, blinding everyone inside, except the bartender, they've got thick black sunglasses, allowing them to see perfectly fine.

TODD: I’m blinded, I can’t see! What’s going on?!?

After 20 seconds the lights are killed and in the middle of the three competitors, stands a large masked man. On the mask is the face of Cheems the Shiba Inu meme dog, but instead of normal Shiba Inu coloration, it's colored black with big stacks of hundreds plastered all over it.

The man pulls off the mask, revealing none other than Mr. Oz!

Thias looks at Oz, remembering his former tag teammate putting him out of action for a long time, having a shocked appearance on his face as Oz scans the three. He tosses the mask to the ground, and immediately turns his sights onto Summer Page as Thias starts pummeling Reggie, Oz begins throwing large haymakers straight into Summer's face until he picks her up, arms cradling her so her stomach is against his, only for him to pick her up into a gorilla press hold, then throwing her straight into and through the bar's wall to the outside! The force of which makes Summer's outline look like it's straight from the cartoons!

TODD: What the HELL! Oz has thrust himself into this match and he and Thias are wrecking Reggie and Summer!

BAMA: No disqualifications, Toddy! Bringing a buddy to a bar brawl is fair game and Thias Watts is old friends with one of the meanest sumbitches on Anarchy! Mister Oz!

Oz then goes to help Thias by picking him up by the legs, and starts swinging him around like a Olympic Hammer Thrower getting ready to throw, only for him to lift Reggie higher and Thias delivers a MASSIVE big boot to the man's dome, knocking Reggie out!

TODD: What a maneuver!

Amidst that giant swing big boot, Thais lands atop Reggie! The crowd counts because that’s how this match works!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

WINNER: THIAS WATTS


TODD: What a robbery!

BAMA: What in-gen-yoo-ity, Toddrick! Thais Watts brought himself a dance partner and they cleaned the floor of Thias’ solo opponents!

TODD: Wait, now it looks like the Money Titans might throw hands between each other!

Now with the two massive men made of muscle standing toe to toe, it looks like they're about to throw hands, to finish their years long beef…

Only for Oswald to dap Thias up, as if he's Cyclops dapping up Ryu from the Street Fighter x Marvel games before pulling each other close and smacking each other on the back.

TODD: Ah, spoke too soon.

He looks to the carnage they have among them, seeing Thias's opponents starting to stir, gaining some ability to regain their composure as Oswald nods to Thias, as words are whispered, "I have my own thing later. You got this?" come from him with Thias nodding as Oswald picks up his mask and walks away to go to his very expensive and highly pimped out RV to get ready for his match.

TODD: The Money Titans! Reunited! The entire Anarchy Tag division just got put on notice!

[Image: wireline.png]

The camera pans across of a sea of leather jackets, denim, beards and bad ass Tattoos. Thousands of motorcycles are rumbling. American flags wave high above chrome.



The PA speakers are hit with the sound of a badass Harley revving, this goes on for a few moments and then stops and suddenly “One for the money by escape the fate” hits the speakers. The camera cuts to a wide shot just as a stunning gold and chrome custom motorcycle rides through into the rally. Justin York sits atop the bike wearing designer shades, a fit leather jacket, denim and shoes that are so expensive they shouldn’t even be around burning rubber.

York rides around the ring several times before stopping and tossing his shades to some biker chick who quickly fires them back at him and begins hurling insults.

He climbs off of his bike and up onto the ring apron and takes in all the hate whilst simultaneously posing. He gets into the ring and demands a microphone and is handed one.

“I’m willing to bet that none of you meth smoking morons thought you’d see a real star show up to this skid mark get together did ya?! The second longest reigning Revolution Champion right under your filthy noses..”

He spits on the canvas as the crowd boo’s, some even hurl a beer bottle that he dodges.

“Don’t take it personal Sturgis. I didn’t come out here to judge your loud ass motorcycles, your crooked teeth or your poor life choices. I came here for only one reason.”

York saunters over to the ropes and leans against them.

“THAD FUCKIN’ DUKE.”

The crowd pops. That name always draws a reaction.

“I find it rather funny that the XWF looks at you like you have royal blood pumping in your veins but you don’t have enough of a spine to accept the challenge that’s been laid before you. I issued the challenge at last Anarchy, at bedlam 8, I even laid it out in a language you can understand, pride, money and legacy on the line and yet you pop up and say a few goofy words, have me attacked and slither back under your rock!”

BAMA: York just dropped the throttle, brother. That ain’t a challenge, that’s a damn dare!

TODD: He’s not just calling Thad out — he’s painting a picture of a man ducking the spotlight. Pride, legacy, and brand loyalty all on the table? That’s combustible.

“You are lionheart remember? Stand tall for this company that you apparently love so damn much. Stop ducking the challenge you cowardly piece of shit. You and me one on one, your 4 vs my 4, Valor against XWF. This is officially the third time I’ve presented this before you, are you man enough? Pick the date, the time, the place and we will show up and burn your fucking house down.”

York sits on the top turnbuckle and awaits Thad's arrival but gets nothing.

“That’s what I thought, sit back there in your comfort zone hiding behind whatever stale ass legacy you have left, you and your BI—“

”Yorkie, Yorkie, Yorkie…”

Thad pops through the Pryce Position onto the stage to pops and a roar of motorcycles.

”You run your mouth about legacies and royal blood… tell me one thing you've built. Tell me one time you've put the good of others over your own selfish wants and needs.”

Yorkie goes to speak but Thad shuts him down.

”People around here treat me like I have royal blood… because when it comes to the XWF, I do have royal blood. See, for half of this company's existence, it was built, and rebuilt three times over off the back of a man named Duke.

“You really don't like hearing the word ‘no.’

“I'll think about the four on four, but Yorkie… you versus me doesn't interest me even a little bit.”

Thad says not another word as he drops the mic and disappears back behind the curtain.

TODD: What a shot across the bow! York called him out again and again, but Thad just made it crystal clear: he’s not biting.

BAMA: Nah, but he’s thinkin’. You heard him, Todd. That four-on-four’s not off the table. Thad just wants to make York wait... and maybe sweat.

TODD: One thing’s for sure, this isn’t over. The war lines are drawn, but the battlefield’s still up for grabs. Up next we’re taking you out to the Bike Boneyard… so stay tuned!

[Image: wireline.png]



TODD: Uh… folks, I’ve been in this business a long time, and I’ve seen some unsettling entrances… but this is something else entirely.

BAMA: Lord have mercy, that’s a woman possessed. Look at her — she’s got the devil in one hand and a paintbrush in the other!

“Dreams of a Lullaby” plays, and as her music swells, Celestine stumbles onto the scrapyard, dragging a massive canvas behind her. Her body jerks unnaturally as though seized by a spirit, shades of a possession. She begins speed-painting in a frenzy, daubing wild strokes with brushes, bare hands, and even blown snot from her nose. She growls, chants, sometimes laughing, sometimes weeping. By the time she reaches the center of the yard, the canvas is revealed: a horrific foretelling of her opponent mangled, ruined, disfigured. She lays the painting gently against the ring like a tombstone.

TODD: That’s either the most disturbing omen I’ve seen in a while… or a hell of a way to win Best in Show at the county fair.

BAMA: Ain’t no county fair I’ve ever been to that had entrails in the watercolor, Todd.



The lights flicker, as the anxiety-inducing first few chords of Dies Irae erupt across the speakers. As all lights center to the top of the stage, creating a path of light down to the ring. Fans erupt into screams as The Inquisitor walks out onto the scrapyard — clad in his leather trench-coat, gloved hands in and full-black getup.

The eye-rings around his mask glint in the light, and you can almost feel him smile through it.

Throwing his arms out to his side, and his head in the air, he breathes in the sweet sound of fear and adoration. His hands jerk to grasp their opposite shoulders, in a self-hug of sorts. Giving himself a quick squeeze, he runs his hands along his shoulders and across his throat like blades before turning to face his opponent.

TODD: The stage is set. The scrapyard’s cursed ground tonight. You can feel it in your teeth.

BAMA: A haunted artist versus a masked executioner… ain’t nobody walking out clean.

TODD: It’s time. Celestine Gale versus The Inquisitor. This is the Bike Boneyard Match!


BIKE BONEYARD MATCH

CELESTINE GALE
- vs -
INQUISITION

Last Person Standing Rules


TODD: Welcome back to Anarchy!

BAMA: Boy oh boy am I ready this one, baby!

TODD: Who wouldn’t be!? We’re in a scrap yard for crying out loud! With two scrappers, ready to begin their quests of chasing down some metal on Anarchy!

BAMA: Chasing metal? Did you even watch these two promos this week, Todd? Celestine Gale and Inquisition are chasing nothing but blood here tonight, baby!

TODD: Holy macaroni!

BAMA: Holy macarena!

TODD: …I feel like we’ve lost the plot here partner.

BAMA: Well of course we have, Todd, we’re in a goddamn scrapyard for crying out loud!

TODD: As crazy as it may seem, Bama, this might be the most apropos between these two, because the only way you can win? By burying your opponent under a heap of old motorcycle parts.

BAMA: Ap-pro-pro? I don’t speak I-talian, Moschitti!

TODD: Would you just shut up and go with it, please?

We hear the grinding of metal, as the camera pans through the dirt and around a heap of trashed car parts. We see the enigmatic Inquisition, donning his spooky mask. He’s dragging a piece of a car exhaust along the heap of scrap metal… he looks ready to do some serious damage here tonight.

Off in the distance, Celestine Gale appears. She’s completely unfazed by this menacing atmosphere. Despite being undersized compared to Inquisition, her cold glare makes her appear to stand even feet above the mounds of trash and scrap metal.

TODD: We heard the trading of barbs up to this point between these two. Inquisition is ready to learn everything he can about Gale, all the way down to the meat and bone, and Gale? She’s ready to break the facade of yet another competitor who dares cross her.

With only feet between them now, the two rush one another. Inq swings wildly with the broken piece of exhaust, hurdling right at Gale’s head! Luckily for her, she’s able to narrowly avoid jumping backward. This seems to throw Inq off a bit, as Gale’s expression is happily dark, and brooding. She lunges right back at him with an elbow to the skull. Inq eats the blow while simultaneously swinging the piece of exhaust again, cracking Gale in the arm. It’s obvious that she felt the damage by the look on her face, but a part of you wonders if she didn’t sort of like the pain.

The elbow strike causes Inq to drop the exhaust pipe.

Inquisition grabs her suddenly and hoists her overhead in a display of strength—he spins and plants her into a pile of rusted gears and fenders with Charon’s Consecration! The full-body impact rattles the scrap heap, and Gale is left coughing, stunned, surrounded by jagged steel like a twisted halo.

He rolls off her and clutches his ribs. The referee approaches cautiously, then raises one hand to begin a count.

ONE!

Gale’s fingers twitch.

TWO!

She breathes sharply through her teeth.

THREE!

Inquisition drags himself upright using a bent fender for leverage.

FOUR!

Gale’s eyes snap open, rage and madness dancing in the whites.

FIVE!

She begins to sit up, trembling but furious.

SIX!

Both are on their knees now, glaring at one another like broken saints.

SEVEN!

They rise, nearly in sync, snarling as if pulled up by strings from beneath the scrapyard floor.

The count is waved off.

Inquisition stumbles to the edge of the yard, his boots crunching over bone-dry gravel.

His eyes scan the heaping walls of scrap around him until they fall upon the crane, the large magnet dangling. Inquisition hobbles over to the crane with a slight limp.

BAMA: Oh he ain’t planning on what I think he’s planning, baby!

TODD: He’s going to bury Gale… Possibly for good!

Before reaching the control booth, he passes a wrecked trike. Without hesitation, he yanks a steel chain from its sidecar like it’s a serpent coiled for battle, then climbs the ladder to the crane’s cabin.

Inside, he settles into the dusty control seat, gripping the levers with fingers like vices. He moves the crane to the right, and a large pile of scrap latches onto the magnet as he slowly begins to move it over Gale’s body...

But she’s gone!

Inquisition hesitates at the controls before a hand is wrapped around the back of his head and smashes his face into the glass of the booth!

BAMA: Celestine that spider monkey! How’d she get the jump on Inq like that?

TODD: Black magics one can assume.

The glass cracks once under the attack.

Dazed, Inquisition shakes his head but Gale throws him forward again and his head crashes through the glass!

Shards stab into Inquisition’s mask as he pushes himself through the glass and crawls out onto the hood of the crane.

Celestine follows, dragging a rusted hubcap and a long steel rod with her like she’s preparing to paint something terrible on the canvas of Inquisition’s back. Her body is coated in dirt and sweat, her dress in tatters, but there’s a strange elegance to her madness—like a cursed ballerina in the wreckage of war.

She raises the hubcap over her head and slams it across Inquisition’s back with a clang that echoes through the scrapyard. Inquisition growls, trying to rise, but Gale stabs the steel rod between his shoulder blades like she’s pinning a butterfly to a collector’s board.

TODD: I don’t know what hurts more—the impact or the intention behind it!

BAMA: That woman’s painting a masterpiece of pain, baby!

Inquisition surges up anyway, his raw strength lifting both himself and Gale with a guttural scream. He backs up blindly, crashing her into the boom of the crane. Gale collapses, limp… or so it seems.

The referee immediately begins a new count.

ONE!

Neither moves.

TWO!

Inquisition leans against the boom, breathing heavily.

THREE!

Gale's hand flutters against the grit.

FOUR!

Inquisition turns, bleeding from his mask.

FIVE!

Gale rolls onto her side, eyes locked on the dangling chain.

SIX!

She begins to rise, inch by inch.

SEVEN!

Inquisition limps to the chain as well—both struggling.

EIGHT!

Gale stands. The referee waves off the count again.

Inquisition stumbles forward toward the edge of the crane, his fingers gripping the dangling chain like a lifeline. He glares down at Gale and gives a final, primal roar. With the chain in hand, he lifts it high over his head and brings it down in a sharp, deliberate arc—but Gale rolls aside at the last possible second, and the chain loops up and around the thick magnet above them!

There’s a moment of silence. Then, with predatory grace, Celestine rises behind him.
With a sharp twist, she yanks the chain and the dangling motorcycle breaks loose from its tension.

BOOM!

The motorcycle comes crashing down from above like a falling god of steel and fire… right onto Inquisition!

He vanishes beneath the wreckage.

BAMA: HOLY SHITFIRE, TODD! SHE JUST VAN GOGH’D HIM INTO NEXT WEEK!

TODD: That might be the most brutal thing we’ve ever seen in the Biker Boneyard!

Celestine kneels next to the heap of twisted chrome, blood, and ruin. She reaches into her torn gown and pulls out a tiny paintbrush dipped in black ink.

With ritualistic grace, she paints a crescent moon symbol on the bent gas tank of the fallen motorcycle—marking her work. Then she stands tall above it all, arms outstretched like the final frame of a gothic oil painting.

The referee, stunned, begins the final count.

ONE!

No movement.

TWO! THREE! FOUR!

Not a sound from under the motorcycle.

FIVE! SIX! SEVEN!

The scrapyard seems to hold its breath.

EIGHT! NINE! TEN!

The referee signals for the bell.

WINNER: CELESTINE GALE


TODD: Celestine Gale has done it. She’s buried Inquisition literally and metaphorically beneath the weight of this match!

BAMA: And she didn’t just win… she signed it, Todd. Like any true artist.

TODD: What an incredible, unforgettable debut by Gale. But hey, hats off to Inquisition as well. He had a tough uphill battle to climb. The truth may yet be inquired!

[Image: wireline.png]



TODD: Up next we have a new take on a classic strap match. We’re trading out the strap for a 12 foot length of biker chain!

BAMA: I don’t know this Jimmy guy that well, but something tells me he wouldn’t volunteer to take either competitors place in a match this brutal.

TODD: Oh, he’s a huge choad. Very unlike Atty and Bliz. Like the opposite. Absolutely terrible.

BAMA: Oof.

The honeyed rasp of Atara's voice blares over the facility's PA in unison with those words appearing on the multitude of screens and displays littering the arena.

HELLO DOVES

The crowd pops and gets to their feet shouting in near total unison a single word.

OPA!

Arena lights start to pulse in time with the music and multiple vertical streams of pyro erupt across the front of stage. Strutting with purpose, Atara emerges from the back taking spot centerstage atop the ramp. Posing for the camera, a wink and kiss is given to the viewers at home.

Grunge walking to the ringsteps, she climbs and stops at the top to posture again for her adoring public. Hand on her hip, the Grecian moves to the middle of the apron to blows a final kiss to the camera and enters the ring through the middle rope.

BAMA T: Now that’s an entrance with some sizzle. Ain’t nobody in the back got that kind of fanfare and footwork, Todd.

TODD: Atara’s got the crowd in the palm of her hand—and she may need every ounce of that energy tonight.



The opening guitar riff the Deftones’ “Kimdracula” hits the arena speakers as multicolored lights pour over the crowd. The lights slowly rotate color in a mesmerizing, psychedelic fashion as the camera pans over the excited crowd. They stand and cheer, partially excited to be on television but also excited because they know that this music signifies that they’re about to be in the presence of an XWF Legend.

Our view shifts to the entrance walkway, which is now blocked by a large pane of glass. On the glass, a name is painted:

AIDAN COLLINS

The viewer only has a moment to take in the glass before the glass explodes towards the camera as a foot kicks through and explodes the whole display!

The crowd erupts in a huge pop. Aidan Collins is here!

Aidan Collins–wearing navy blue trunks and boots adorned with his Infinity Crown logo in gold–takes a second to pose towards the camera before he winks and walks down towards the ring. As he walks, he high fives the crowd and vocalizes outwardly that he’s about to put on a hell of a show for the audience.

Aidan walks up the ring steps and walks down the apron to the center of the ring. He points out to the crowd before folding his arms in front of himself, giving the crowd ample time to pop off photos with their cell phones.

Aidan enters the ring through the middle rope. He shakes the ring official’s hand, now ready for the contest to begin.

TODD: There he is. Aidan Collins, with a legacy that spans two decades and more than a few shattered expectations.

BAMA T: I’ll tell ya what, Todd: this one’s gonna hurt, no matter who wins. They ain’t fightin’ ‘cause they hate each other. They’re fightin’ ‘cause Jimmy Stars made ‘em.

TODD: And neither one plans to walk out lookin’ weak. Chain’s just the setting. The real story is right here in the ring.

The chain clinks ominously as it’s latched to the wrists of Atara Raven and Aiden Collins by the referee. No theatrics. No pageantry. Just one final look—mutual recognition, not malice. They both know what kind of storm they’re walking into.


BIKER CHAIN BRAWL

ATARA RAVEN
- vs -
AIDEN COLLINS

Strap Match Rules


TODD: There’s no love lost between these two tonight, folks, but there’s a hell of a lot of respect on the line!

BAMA T: Ain’t that the truth, Todd. This one’s personal without bein’ bitter. They ain’t enemies, just professionals with a job to do. And that job involves a big ol’ steel chain.

DING DING DING

Atara strikes first. She wraps the chain around her forearm and charges in with a hard elbow that rocks Aiden into the corner. She follows up with a flurry of body shots—precise, targeted, fast. Then she whips him toward the opposite buckle, but the chain jerks taut midway. Atara stumbles forward off-balance.

Aiden doesn’t waste the moment. He yanks her back and levels her with a vicious lariat! The chain snaps across her stomach as she hits the canvas with a thud.

BAMA T: That chain ain’t just decoration, Todd. It’s a weapon and a leash, all at once.

TODD: The kind of leash that reminds you you’re never out of reach.

Aiden scrambles up and starts for the first turnbuckle. He touches ONE… but Atara cuts him off, kicking his leg out from under him.

She climbs to her feet and hits a smooth belly-to-back suplex, flowing right into a leg grapevine. She drives her elbow into his knee repeatedly, softening the joint. Then, without hesitation, she transitions into a banana split submission—Aphrodite’s Duality!

BAMA T: She’s goin’ for it early! That’ll stretch a man six ways to Sunday, Todd!

TODD: And in a match like this, every second in a hold like that feels twice as long.

Aiden grits his teeth and headbutts his way free, rattled but still fighting. Atara pops up, answers with a stinging slap across his face. The crowd erupts—OPA!

She twirls to her feet and throws in a Hasapiko step, dancing just enough to taunt.

But it costs her.

Aiden ducks, yanks the chain, and sends her over the top rope. The chain catches—she dangles, feet barely touching the apron. He reels her back in with brute strength and slams her with a modified Olympic Slam across the chain!

A beat passes. Then Aiden starts for the corners.

ONE… TWO…

Atara twists, sweeps his legs, and slaps the mat to keep herself grounded. The count resets.

TODD: This match punishes hesitation. And it punishes momentum even more.

BAMA T: These two been tied to Raven for years, figuratively. Now it’s literal. Poetic as hell.

Atara lashes the chain across Aiden’s back with a loud snap! The crowd winces in unison. She drags him toward the corner and whips him into the steel post. Then she lines him up, sprints in with the Judgement of Paris—a knee to the jaw that lands like a shotgun blast.

Aiden crumples.

Atara turns to the corners. ONE… TWO… THREE…

She lunges, reaching for the fourth.

Aiden yanks the chain tight and pulls her off her feet! The chain wraps around her torso, and she slams hard into the final corner, spine-first.

Aiden’s on her before she can react. Chain-wrapped punches to the gut and ribs. He runs the ropes and comes back with a devastating Hell’s Kaleidoscope, the chain trailing like a whip behind the discus lariat.

Both go down.

BAMA T: Hell’s Kaleidoscope hits like a freight train. You see stars, regrets, maybe even your tax guy.

TODD: You see the next life, Bama, and it don’t come with padding.

Aiden pulls himself up slowly. His breathing is labored now. His body, bruised. He yanks the chain and drags Atara up.

He touches ONE… TWO… THREE…

But Atara isn’t finished. One last surge—Priapus Punch!

Right between the uprights.

BAMA T: Straight to the… well, we’ll call it the Achilles groin, Todd.

TODD: That’s got to be illegal!

BAMA T: Not in this kind of fight. Just bad manners.

Aiden buckles. He doesn’t fall.

He roars, swings wide, and clobbers Atara with a spinning lariat that folds her like paper.

Both lie on the mat, unmoving for a beat. Then Aiden crawls.

ONE… TWO… THREE…

He stops.

Looks back.

She’s still down.

FOUR.

The bell rings.

WINNER: AIDEN COLLINS


There’s a moment of quiet. A pause. Then applause. Then cheers. Not for the outcome—but for the battle.

The referee raises Aiden’s hand, but he brushes it aside. Instead, he kneels beside Atara and helps her up. She’s dazed, but conscious. She takes his hand and rises.

No hug. No raised arms. Just eye contact.

They nod.

And the crowd chants together:

“OPA! OPA! OPA!”

BAMA T: That’s the kind of match that don’t need a title. Don’t even need a winner.

TODD: Just two people giving everything they had. Scars traded. Respect earned. And maybe now… maybe just a little peace between friends-

Aidan Collins and Atara Raven are in the ring after a grueling strap match. Both of them are gathering their bearings when suddenly...

"Dethrone" by Bad Omens plays throughout the Knuckle Saloon Parking Lot. Then out from the entrance way, it's Solomon Kline. Clad in black leather pants, black Doc Marten's and a black cowboy style shirt, complete with a black bandana over his face and a black Stetson hat, he rides in on his brand new blue Harley Davidson motorcycle. He rides the bike toward the ring slowly, then drives around the ring once at ringside, allowing the fans in attendance to take it all in. He parks the bike at ringside on the ramp side of the ring, gets off and heads into the ring. He sees his Tribe partner and Atara, still breathing heavily from their match. He removes the hat and bandana and places them in the corner of the ring. He starts slow clapping and then, he motions for a microphone.

Solomon Kline: Bravo, you two. Aidan, good to see you mixing it up on Anarchy. Can't wait to kick the American Storm's asses with you come Warfare and give us a chance at those tag team championships.

He looks over at his shoulder, no longer bearing the weight of the X-Treme championship that was ever present when he was champion. He then looks at Atara, who is slowly making it to her feet.

SK: You see, my shoulder is feeling a bit light and it doesn't feel right. Another championship would fit nicely there. Atara, I gotta hand it to you. That is how you fight a friend. Some people...*cough* Oz...*cough* should take notes. Now I'm not just here to sing your praises. I'm here to inform you that, this wasn't just a match...it was an initiation.

The crowd cheers. Solomon continues.

SK: You see, historically, the Tribe has always had room for Ravens and with the Black Rainbow, The Corporation, various Revolutions...we need all the allies we can get. So, I'm not asking you to give us an answer right now, but please, consider this a formal offer to join the Tribe.

Solomon grabs his things from the corner, nods to Aidan Collins and makes his way out of the ring, where he rides his motorcycle off into the sunset and presumably, right out of Sturgis altogether.

[Image: wireline.png]

XWF STUDIOS


*'Micheal Graves', wearing his green Dark Warrior mask and tights, takes the seat across from Steve. He stretches his neck, side-to-side, comfortable on a TV set after decades wrestling in front of cameras.*

Around the pair, the crew gets setup, lights get hung, microphone rapidly get sound-checked, the director of the segment carefully checks each camera angle to verify focus.

Sayors glances off to the side, clearly receiving the all-clear from the producer.

“Folks, I’m here with Anarchy champion, ‘Micheal Graves’! One of the most electric, unpredictable men in the entire XWF! I… uh… I’m nervous because this is quite a scoop your favorite newsman is on top of… But, I’m also terrified of being maimed!”

Sayors eyes ‘Graves’, hoping for some reassurance that that won’t happen.

”...” ‘Graves’ eventually weaves his hand through the air, like ‘keep going…’

Sayors nervously clears his throat, before flipping the page on his clipboard…

“Well, first of all—congratulations. As of today, you’ve been Anarchy champion… 319 days! Two days longer than Crucible’s Tag Title reign, which makes yours the Longest reign of the XWF’s modern era At Leap of Faith, you defeated ‘The Tactilizing One’ Larry Tact in what many are calling an instant classic. What was the key to victory that night? And—if I can ask—what does it mean to you to step into the record books as not only the longest Anarchy champion, but longest reigning champion… ever?

Sayors’ eyes dart, watching Graves for any sign of irritation. His left hand is hovering near his lapel mic like he might instinctively rip it off and sprint at the first sign of danger.

…

Graves' sits back, letting his eyes drift to the ceiling as he ponders that question.

"Tact’s a killer." 'Graves' finally concludes, bringing his eyes back to Steve's. "He's been a world champion. A Hall of Famer. We'd wrestled a little earlier this year and I won then, too. But, I came off that match knowing he was just finding his footing in the XWF. It felt like I got an appetizer before a main course that was gonna knock me on my ass. Getting to face him at his best? The biggest challenge of my reign thus far, and I'm proud to say I managed to catch one of the greatest chain wrestlers in the business in my Fujiwara Armbar and score the submission."

"In terms of stepping into the record books..." 'Graves' exhales, really digesting that question. "I think that was all that mattered to me when I first got started. I leapt straight from a hole-in-the-wall gym in Battle Creek, Michigan, straight to the XWF.”

”Wait, Mister Graves.” Sayors checks his notes. ”Aren’t you from… HoboTown originally?”

…

”HoboTown is a suburb near Battle Creek.”

”Ah, sorry, go on.”

“And I started late... most of the young guns now are guys in their early 20s... I debuted in the XWF at..." 'Graves' does some math in his head. "33? And I had a chip on my shoulder about it. I felt I needed to check every box, to do what no one had ever done before or it would have all been a waste."

"Now?" 'Graves' lets his nostrils flare, somberly recollecting where he came from and the man he used to be. "I've been lucky enough to do this for thirteen years. Most people don't make it to year thirteen in this business. Almost nobody makes it to 46 and still manages to actively compete at the level I'm getting to." 'Graves' tries to delicately unwrap the question.

"I feel lucky in some ways. In other ways, like I don't know how it happened. I know it could end tomorrow and I'm pushing my luck every time I get in the ring. But, I'm taking it one match at a time. At one time, I…”

…’Graves’ grins, pausing.

”Er, f***, sorry, my buddy, Mark Flynn…”

…’Graves’ eyes dart upwards.

”Did I just get bleeped?”

”...Algorithm stuff, profanity tends to filter search results, diminishing views…”

…’Graves’ shrugs…

”When HE was Universal champion… He promised the world he'd be the longest-reigning Universal champion in XWF history, that it'd last forever and... heheh, that didn't work out.”

“Point being, I'm honored to have the record of longest Anarchy champion… given the caliber of talent that Anarchy has to offer, but I have no delusions about being a permanent champion. Some day, this belt will be somebody else's and they'll have the honor of representing the best Thursday Night wrestling has to offer and..." 'Graves' grins thinking to himself. "I don't know what I’ll do after that. I guess we'll see."

…Steve coughs. ”Most… electrifying man in the XWF…”

‘Graves’ reaches down for the coffee cup by his side. ”Can I keep this?”

…Sayors squints. ”...The cup?”

…

”That’s… That’s really not my department, but maybe someone can…” Sayors reaches for a production person. ”Can… um… Mister ‘Graves’ kee-”

When Sayors turns back, ‘Graves’ is looking at him attentively awaiting the next question.

…The cup is gone.

…Sayors shuffles his cue cards, trying to keep his hands from shaking too obviously.

“You’ve been—well—instrumental in spearheading the conversation around labor rights in pro wrestling. You’ve advocated for injury protocols, post-match concussion screenings, fairer treatment for talent. You’ve called out the brass more than once for how they handle things behind the curtain.”

“But—Graves—this is also coming from a man who, earlier in his career, made a name by injuring people. By ending careers. You used to list them in your promos”

He lets that truth sit for a moment.

“Do you see this as… a redemption arc? A reckoning? How do you reconcile the Dark Warrior who took pride in devastation with the advocate who now demands a safer workplace for the next generation?”

*He inches back in his chair—just a bit.

"...Heheheheheheheheh. FUUUUUUU***." 'Graves' bellows. The sound people skitter nervously, narrowly catching the censor button.

…

‘Graves’ eyes the teammate, finger hovering over the button, ready to catch profanity…

"Great question, Stevengelical..."

…

"...I don't think there's redemption for what I've done."

…

"I don't think any amount of what I do know can correct the score..." There’s a twinge of manic-ness in ‘Graves’ eyes as he ponders this issue. "You know, the Ancient Egyptians thought when you died, the weight of your soul would be weighed against a feather. A FEATHER, STEVEN."

"...I don't know about you, Steve. I imagine your 'sins' are mostly taking other people’s parking spaces…”

…Sayors blushes. ”It’s an employee lot! I’m an employee! I should be allowed to park there!”

“But I worked up a soul heavier than a feather… even before I made it to the XWF…. Being here… that’s probably enough feathers to make a life-size Pillow Fort Knox "

…

"...It's not about that though.” 'Graves' scratches his nose. “If I was out here to atone, to scrub my name clean, I'd know it was a doomed mission...."

"At this point, I know I've got fewer years left than what I've put into this business. I just want to leave it better than how I came into it.”

…

”...My pal, Mark Flynn, has a near-two-year-old now. I don't know if he'd ever get in the ring... But the idea of him having to do what I did... or, God, even worse, dealing with the 'Micheal Graves' of the 2040s when he's the age to do this? ...I can't protect him physically then, I'll be knocking on 60... I can just try to make it a little better for everybody and hope it reaches him.”


…For a second—just a second—Steve looks like he’s about to cry.

“…That’s… that’s real, Graves. And I—uh—thank you for trusting me—and trusting the fans—with that.”

…Sayors stands up, and moves arms extended toward ‘Graves’.

”The HELL you doing, Steve?” ‘Graves’ raises his arms like he’s rearing to defend himself.

”Oh, uh…” Sayors clears his throat sitting back down. ”Was going in for a… *ahem* hug, misread the moment…”

”Yes, you did.”

…Sayors fumbles through his cards again…

“Now, uh, speaking of leaving the business better than you found it… at Leap of Faith, not only did you retain your title and extend your historic reign, but your fellow pro-labor advocate and long-time ally, Dolly Waters, finally reached the pinnacle—capturing her first Universal Championship.”

“What did that moment mean to you pers-”

"F***." 'Graves''s eyes light on fire with the mention of Dolly. The sound team rushes to bleep the live feed... "DID YOU SEE THAT SHIT?"

'Graves''s arms weaves through the air, punching through his hand. "RUNNING WATERS." 'Graves' drops an elbow on his own leg! "ELBOW DROP! F***!"

The sound people catch the curse live and manage to bleep it….

‘Graves’ eyes trace the wire from the censor button… running beside his seat…

Sayors nods, happy he’s asked a question that ‘Graves’ seems excited by. “Y-yeah, I did see that, actually! I—uh—stood up and cheered! From a safe distance! Like... twelve rows up.”

‘Graves’ beams proudly, taking another sip of coffee…

"That was... the culmination of a lifetime of work." 'Graves' rubs his nose. "Dolly has been wrestling in form or another since she was seven years old. She went from youth phenom to guaranteed first-ballot XWF Hall of Legends resident..." 'Graves' breathes. "To being constantly on the injured list. To being called overrated and a bust. I've been lucky enough to work with Dolly for years now. I know just how much pure talent she had in her. So, to see her win the big one after all that? It felt... like justice. She's 22 and it's easy to paint it like she lucked into it, but she's worked harder and sacrificed more than anybody I know."

…

“But, with you holding the Anarchy title… AND Dolly holding the TOP belt… is this more than just personal triumphs? Are we seeing a new era—a kind of... labor-first, wrestler-driven power shift in the XWF?”

Sayors eyebrows lift just slightly.

…

‘Graves’ waves the question off. "The movement's the movement, y'know? People might have more eyes on it. But, it's not the sort of thing you can make happen by winning a wrestling match. It takes time and it takes dedicated effort in the face of a million moneymen the industry over trying to stop it. Does Dolly winning the Universal title mean the Revolution has won and all of the wrestling industry’s problems are solved overnight?”

“No."

…

"...Was it the greatest thing that's happened in the wrestling world?" 'Graves' grins ear-to-ear... "Maybe. Top three in my book." ‘Graves’ holds up three fingers.

“Now, if I may—Graves, you did mention the ‘moneymen.’ The forces in this industry that fight change tooth and nail. And that actually brings me to…”

He hesitates. He knows he’s about to step into the minefield. He steps anyway.

“…the burning. The merch. The DVDs of your own matches, even. That was… well, I guess ‘symbolic’ would be an understatement.”

“A lot of fans were shocked. And executives were FURIOUS. Graves, you’ve said you’re pushing back against the over-commercialization of wrestling… but what’s the alternative? If a company can’t own its content, if merch is ‘tainted’—how is a promotion supposed to survive? How do you keep the lights on without selling the spectacle?”

…

… ‘Graves’ doesn’t look at the ceiling for the answer to this one. He looks Steve dead in the eye.

“Why do you think they frame it like that, Stevil?”

”...Uh…Sorry, ‘they’?”

“Like, *I* want the industry to collapse? Like I’m asking for the F***ING moon on a string, when I want BASIC. DIGNITY. For wrestlers.”

“Do you know much the average wrestling ticket to an XWF show runs the customer? $70? $80?”

“You know how much of that goes in the roster’s pocket? SIX DOLLARS. Split FORTY-SOME-ODD WAYS, Steavis!”

”...Uh… sorry. Let’s time-out so the team can fact-check th-”

“…And when I point that out, the industry acts like I’m public enemy #1.”

“Micheal Graves’ is a commie”

“‘Micheal Graves’ want to gut promotions..”

”Well, it’s a fair question, Mister Graves! You’re asking these companies to profit-share with their talent, but… These promotions are struggling! Some of them are dying!”

‘Graves’ jams a finger at Steve. “Get this down on the record, Sayors. If your company has to degrade and BURN through talent to stay alive?”

…’Graves’ SMASHES the cup toward the floor…

Liquid and porcelain cause sparks on the wire!

”Your company SHOULD FUCKING DIE.” The sound peoplesmash the button… But nothing happens!

…

“Why’d I burn those DVDs, Steve? That was the question, Mister William Randolph FUCKING HEARST? Why would I burn DVDs with my own matches on them?”

…

“So they’d stay mine.”

“The XWF wanted to take three hours of my blood, sweat, and vomit in that ring and put a price tag on it to shove in a gas station DVD pile next to a hanging rack of Slim Jim’s? They wanted to feed a lifetime through the algorithm and let robots designed to enslave our attention convert my mission to fix the mistakes I’ve made into POISON designed to CORRUPT the MASSES”

“FUCK that and FUCK anyone who says otherwise. If the shareholders would starve paying the talent their fair share? They should FUCKING starve.”

”I’ve seen guys on the Indy circuit skip meals so they can stretch out a $50 check working a high school gym, excuse me if I’m not worried about Sammy Shareholder making the payments on yacht #3.”

”Well, I think… I mean, YES, we should try to pay talent their fair share…”

”Ohhhhhh, it’s ‘WE’ now! You and the CEOs, Steve! ONE AND THE SAME!” ‘Graves’ leaps out of his chair and scoops Sayors up his collar!

The entire crew scatters in a panic, terrified of what ‘Graves’ might do…

”Oh God! Oh, please don’t hurt me, Graves! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

…

‘Graves’ drops Sayors to the ground…

…

And walks out of the studio.

SLAMMING the door… behind him…

…

Sayors nervously crawls back into his chair, straightening his tie.

”...Thank you… Micheal Graves… for being on the program… Now, if you’d like my perspective on the Anarchy champion’s views… I belie-”

SPARK! The lights go out in the studio.

[Image: wireline.png]



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 a makeshift ramp towards the circle of motorcycles, while the bottom of his white cloak drags along the ground. Once inside the center of the circle, he de-cloaked himself, placing it in on the motorcycle 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 Mighty OZ, making his way through the parking lot! Undefeated in recent months, Oswald has been tearing up every name they put in front of him on Anarchy. And that is why he is now #8 in the XWF ELO rankings!

Bama T: Damn straight, Todd! I know I haven’t been on Anarchy for a while, but even I know how dominant Oz has been on Thursday nights! At this point, I think it’s safe to say the myth of Oswald precedes him, everywhere he goes!



Full black.

The stage alights in red. Smoke gathers around the circle of motorcycles. 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 makeshift stage and takes in the mixed reaction from the crowd. He shakes his head and shoulders and begins to walk down the ramp, hands still in prayer pose. 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 before he reaches the circle of motorcycles. He outstretches his arms as he enters the circle, rolling backward over a motorcycle and spinning toward the center of the circle, arms outstretched like a helicopter. He then sits, cross legged in the dead center of the circle, 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 every motorcycle in the circle suddenly roars, and revs to life!

TODD: 36 is coming out tonight to get some revenge on Oz for the events that transpired at Leap of Faith! Remember, Oz and 36 were supposed to square off against Them No Good Bastards for the tag-titles, but instead, Oz left 36 hanging! And now, they’ve got a score to settle!

BAMA T: Look at this FREAK! Wearing a mask, cutting the lights off, and then sitting cross-legged in the circle like some sorta’ schoolchild! No wonder Oz didn’t want to work with this guy at Leap of Faith!

TODD: Well you’ve gotta remember, Bama, that even without Oz: 36 was able to defeat T.N.G.B.!

BAMA T: That was by disqualification, Todd! That doesn’t count as a victory!

TODD: It counts on the ELO rankings, though!

BAMA T: Well, let’s see how tough he is when he has to face Oz 1-on-1 in a parking lot brawl!



PATCH-IN CO-MAIN

MR. OZ
- vs -
XXXVI

Revo #1 Contendership Parking Lot Brawl


DING! DING! DING!

The match starts inside the motorcycle circle, and XXXVI wastes no time in taking the fight to the big man! Oz and XXXVI exchange a flurry of blows in the center of the ring, but despite XXXVI’s tenacity, Oz begins to get the upperhand! Standing 8 inches taller and over a hundred pounds heavier, Oz has an immense advantage in the head-to-head bareknuckle brawl. Oz starts hammering XXXVI in the head relentlessly, causing the smaller man to stumble around the motorcycle circle aimlessly! The restless bikers cheer on the carnage as Oz begins to gain advantage.

BAMA T: Oz is giving that masked freak a WHOOPIN’! And those bikers are LOVING IT!

TODD: You’re not wrong, Bama! I think a parking lot brawl is playing to all of Oz’s strengths, and none of 36’s!

Oz grabs XXXVI, punching him in the gut before grabbing a hold of his tights and lifting him high into the air. Oz parades around the motorcycle circle with XXXVI suspended in mid-air, caught in a suplex position! Oz bears a devilish grin as he shows off his immense strength to the biker gangs in attendance…but XXXVI wriggles free before Oz can drop him! The smaller man escapes from Oz’s grasp, landing on his feet directly behind Oz.

And when Oz turns around….

SUPERKICK!

XXXVI’s foot connects with Oz’s jaw like a heat-seeking missile! Oz’s body goes flying against the motorcycles forming a circle in the parking lot, and blood starts dripping out of Oz’s mouth! Oz reaches up and touches the blood with his hand, inspecting it with his eyes before bearing a sinister grin in XXXVI’s direction. Oz pushes himself up off the motorcycles and roars, begging XXXVI to come try it again!

AND XXXVI does!


AND IT WORKS!

The smaller man charges at the expectant Oz. Oz throws a haymaker at the spot he thinks XXXVI is going to be…but the smaller man spins out of the way- AND COMES BACK AROUND WITH A SPINNING BACKFIST TO OZ’S FACE!

Oz goes flying over the top of the bikes, and out of the circle!

TODD: 36 has taken the momentum back in this one!

BAMA T: But let’s see how long he can hold onto it, Todd!

Oz groans as he brings a hand up to his bruised head, clearly disoriented from the force of the backfist. But XXXVI isn’t wasting any time tonight! The masked man climbs atop a motorcycle, raising his arms to the sky in a ritualistic motion before leaping off the bike and onto Oz with A MOONSAULT!!!!

THE BIKERS GO BIKE-WILD AS XXXVI MAKES THE PIN!


1!








2!!





KICKOUT!!!!


Oz throws a shoulder up just in time, but XXXVI gets right back to work. As Oz lay on the ground, the masked man begins working Oz’s lower body with a Boston Crab attempt! XXXVI cranks and wrenches upon Oz’s lower back, but Oz’s cries of pain are drowned out by the noise of the rowdy biker gangs. XXXVI tries to crank that Boston Crab as much as he can…but Oz is too big, too strong! After nearly a minute trapped inside the Boston Crab, Oz is able to wrangle his legs free, and kick XXXVI right off of him!

TODD: Excellent work from Oswald escaping that submission attempt! Usually Oz struggles to get out of submission holds, but he refuses to tap out here tonight!

BAMA T: Oz won’t give that weirdo the pleasure of making him submit!

Oz pushes himself back up, and XXXVI does the same. Now outside the circle, the one-time tag partners start squaring off once more! Oz goes in for a clothesline, but XXXVI ducks, and fires back with a quick uppercut! Oz reaches out and tries to grab a hold of XXXVI for a big move, but the masked man is too wily and quick! Oz just can’t seem to get his hands on him!

The pair fight through the parking lot, and past crowds of rowdy bikers. XXXVI starts to gain the upper hand with his quickness and agility, but Oz is an unstoppable object who just keeps moving forward, even if he is a few steps behind the masked man! By the time Oz finally gets a good grip on XXXVI, the pair have fought all the way to the other side of the lot- where a slew of trash cans are waiting for pick-up!

Oz grabs XXXVI by the scruff of his neck and pulls him back for a big move…but XXXVI has a the lid of a trash can in his hands, and he smacks Oz right across the face with it!

And again!


And again!

After the trash can lid has been fully dented and rendered inoperable, XXXVI drops the lid onto the ground. Then, he kicks a woozy Oz in the gut, causing the big man to keel over with disorientated pain! Then, XXXVI hits Oz with a


GERMAN SUPLEX ONTO THE TRASH LID!


XXXVI covers Oswald for the pin!



1!







2!!





KICKOUT!!!!!


TODD: Oz just won’t stay down!

BAMA T: I think that freak might need to try that move 36 more times if he wants to beat Oz!

XXXVI pushes himself back to standing, then he starts delivering a few boots to his grounded opponent. Rowdy bikers look on with beers in their hands, screaming for a ‘CURB STOMP!’. XXXVI turns back and looks at the bikers, and as he nods, you could almost swear you saw a grin under his mask!

XXXVI drags Oswald’s body over towards the curb in the parking lot, setting the big man’s teeth upon it…

BAMA T: Hey, someone stop that guy! He’s about to ruin Oswald’s billion-dollar smile!

TODD: I hate seeing this level of brutality as much as the next person, Bama, but this match is no-DQ! That means anything goes, even real-life, actual, literal curb stomps!

With Oswald’s face laying flat on the curb, XXXVI takes a few steps back…then he charges in before jumping high into the air, lifting both his leg for a leaping double curb stomp!

BUT OZ ROLLS OUT OF THE WAY JUST IN TIME!

XXXVI’s feet slam down on the pavement without any cushioning! The ligaments in his legs hyper-extend, almost popping out from beneath the skin as the leaping double curb stomp lands against nothing but concrete!

TODD: BY GOD! I’m going to be sick…I think we just saw his ACL -POP-, live on our screens!

BAMA T: Oh Todd! A little ACL tear ain’t nothin’ to our top-notch XWF talent- but if Oz is lucky, it might be enough to slow down 36!

As Oz lurches back to his feet, XXXVI cradles his legs in pain. Sensing an opportunity, Oswald approaches the masked man with a pissed off expression. Once Oz gets close, he begins laying in the beating of a lifetime. Big boots, big elbows, and big damage are unloaded onto XXXVI with little to no remorse from the big man! Oswald grabs XXXVI by his mask with one hand, while beating the hell out of him with the other! As XXXVI struggles to free himself from the giant’s grasp, Oswald starts dragging him back towards the circle of motorcycles.

XXXVI fights like a wolverine caught in a trap, but it’s no use! Oswald isn’t letting him go! Eventually, Oswald and XXXVI get back to the outside of the motorcycle circle. Oswald headbutts XXXVI, temporarily dimming the masked man’s lights- then, Oswald throws XXXVI back into the circle with a vicious hip toss! XXXVI lands in the center of the circle, his body smacking off the pavement with a sickening thud. Oswald steps over a motorcycle, following XXXVI at an admittedly slow pace.

BAMA T: Now that this match is back inside the circle, Oswald has complete and total control! He brought 36’s speed and quickness to a grinding halt, and now the behemoth has that masked freak right where he wants him!

TODD: Not so fast, Bama! It doesn’t look like 36 is out of this one quite yet!

Just as Oswald crosses over the final bike and enters the circle, XXXVI suddenly surges to his feet—limping, dazed, but far from finished. The crowd of bikers roars as he throws a wild forearm that catches Oz on the jaw!

Oz reels, stunned for just a second—enough time for XXXVI to leap up onto the gas tank of a nearby chopper.

BAMA T: Wait… wait, what’s that lunatic doing!?

TODD: He can barely stand and now he’s climbing steel!? This can’t be smart!

XXXVI steadies himself atop the motorcycle, every muscle twitching with effort. With a final breath… he launches into the sky—twisting through the air in a spiraling arc…

THE TEETH OF GOD!!

His body spins perfectly through the night air before coming CRASHING down onto Oswald’s chest with devastating force!

TODD: THE TEETH OF GOD! THAT’S GOTTA BE IT!

BAMA T: I CAN’T EVEN SPELL SPIRAL TAP BUT I JUST SAW THE BEST ONE IN MY LIFE, BABY!

XXXVI hooks the leg, the circle of motorcycles buzzing with noise.

1!

2!!

3!!!

DING! DING! DING!


WINNER: XXXVI


BAMA T: That masked maniac just tore through Oz like a rusty muffler!

TODD: He risked everything with that Spiral Tap—and it paid off. The Teeth of God bites deep tonight on Anarchy!

BAMA T: And I’ll be DAMNED if that wasn’t worth the price of admission alone!

TODD: That means that no matter who wins the main event tonight, they’re going to have a new challenger in XXXVI!

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The opening riff of The hangman's body count by Volbeat starts to play throughout The Knuckles Saloon as the lights dim. Several red and purple laser lights envelope the stage as Matthias Syn casually walks through the curtain. As he steps onto the stage, he stops and acknowledges the crowd by stretching both arms forward while touching his balled up fists together. After several seconds he begins to nonchalantly walk down the ramp towards the ring, not allowing the fans to touch him. He slides under the bottom chain, jumps to his feet and poses on the steel chains. As he drops down from the chains he takes off his red leather shearling coat, hands it to the ring girl and sits on the studded turnbuckle awaiting his opponent.

BAMA T: It’s the Syn City Saint, Matthias Syn! He made headlines last Warfare for his vicious attack and post-match burial of Corey Black. That’s when Matthias Syn told the whole world that he was joining THE CORPORATION, and tonight is his first match repping his new gang colors!

TODD: That’s right, Bama! But it won’t be his first match fighting for the Revolution Championship! In fact, Matthias Syn already held that very belt for 252 consecutive days! And in tonight’s Main Event, he goes to war for the Revolution Championship once more- but this time, he’s doing it in service to the company!



Twenty midgets with sparkers in both hands held as high as their little arms can reach, line both sides of the entrance ramp. Thunder Knuckles walks out with his Revolution Championship over his shoulder, his Anarchy Tag Championship around his waist, and an arrogant smile emblazoned on his face. The sparkers ignite as he walks past the midgets. Once Thunder Knuckles is down to the ring he rolls under the bottom chain of steel and in one movement he pops up to his feet. With his back turned towards the camera, he raises his right fist in defiance. As soon as his fist goes up, counterfeit XBUX with Thunder Knuckles' face on them falls onto the crowd.

BAMA T: Now that's how a double-champion make an entrance!

TODD: If you're a total jerk, I guess!

BAMA T: Bastard, Todd, he's a Bastard! And tonight, he’s fighting to retain that championship belt on behalf of Bastards everywhere!

TODD: But the Syn City Saint isn’t going to make it easy for him!

BAMA T: Good! Bastards prefer it rough!




REVOLUTION CHAMPIONSHIP
THUNDER KNUCKLE SALOON MATCH

THUNDER KNUCKLES ©
- vs -
MATTHIAS SYN

Steel Chain Ring Ropes/Studded Leather Turnbuckle Pads


DING! DING! DING!

TK saunters out of his corner, cocky as ever. Once the double-champion reaches the center of the ring, he invites Matthias Syn out for a test of strength. The Syn City Saint cocks his head to the side and bears a grin. Syn strolls out of his corner and meets TK in the center of the ring, where TK is waiting with his hand raised. Syn raises a hand of his own, as if he’s about to meet TK’s challenge….

BUT BOTH MEN HAD OTHER IDEAS!

Both TK and Syn try to sneakily kick each other in the balls, but their boots just collide with each other!

TK looks at Syn like he just committed a war crime, and Syn looks back at TK with dead-eyed disdain.

The referee just sighs and shakes his head, because he knows he’s in for a long night with these two hooligans!

BAMA T: Thunder Knuckles can’t believe it! The Syn City Saint just snubbed his nose up at TK’s challenge, and tried to sneak in a dirty shot!

TODD: But Thunder Knuckles tried to do the EXACT same thing!

BAMA T: That’s the champion’s prerogative, Todd! Matthias Syn of all people should know that!

TK looks furious, and he charges right at Syn! TK goes for a lariat, but Syn ducks under it! Syn darts towards the ropes – but THEY’RE STEEL CHAINS!- so Syn doesn’t ‘bounce off’ the ropes, instead, Syn collapses to the mat as he practically whips his own back with the steel!

TK chuckles to himself as he sees Syn trying to rise back up to a standing position. TK charges forward with a punt kick, but Matthias Syn sees it coming, and moves out of the way just in time! Instead of punting Syn’s face, TK’s foot connects directly with the STUDDED LEATHER at full force!

TK immediately backs away after the punt to the corner, clutching his foot in pain!

TODD: This ring is a death-trap, Bama! It’s doing more damage to our competitors than they are!

BAMA T: Who the hell designed this ring?! Steel chains instead of ropes?! Studded leather instead of turnbuckle pads?!

TODD: I think the answer would be “Jimmy Stars”, Bama!

TK and Syn both took a minute to recoup their ring-inflicted injuries, then they reset in new corners. Syn stretches his back with a grimace on his face, but after a brief recovery period, he’s ready to get back in there. In the opposite corner, TK is nursing his injured foot, but when he senses the vibrations on the mat from Syn’s rapid charge, TK looks up and sees Syn barreling straight at him! TK rolls out of the way as Syn tries to go for a SPLASH onto the STUDDED LEATHER-

But after TK rolls out of the way, Syn catches himself on the chains, placing his feet on the second level and his hands on the top chain! From his perched position in the corner, Syn glances over his shoulder briefly, where he spots TK limping on his bad foot. That’s when Syn leaps off the chains, and catches TK with a coffin body drop!

Both men spill onto the canvass, but TK bares the brunt of the fall! One of Syn’s elbows collides with TK’s forehead on the landing, splitting it wide open! Blood gushes out of the double-champ like a geyser!

TODD: What a smooth recovery from The Syn City Saint! It looked like he was about go barreling full-speed into the Studded Leather corner, but he caught himself on the chains, and then coffin dropped off the chains! That’s expert level technique!

BAMA T: Off the chain?! You’re damn right this match is off the chain, Todd! It’s Syn vs Knucks’ for the Revolution Championship!

Syn gets up to his feet first, and he immediately charges TK’s way, kicking the double-champion in the ribs and preventing him from rising! Matthias Syn chuckles to himself as TK groans in pain from the blow. Then, Syn grabs TK by his collar, lifting him up to his feet, and then Irish whipping him right into the STUDDED LEATHER CORNER!

TK bounces off the corner with a loud thud, the blood from his gushing wound staining the makeshift turnbuckle. As TK stumbles out of the leather clad corner, Syn follows up with a swinging snap DDT that rattles the entire ring! But Syn’s offense doesn’t end there. Syn quickly follows up by grabbing TK once more, delivering a stiff elbow to his jaw that spins TK around,  and then Syn lifts him high into the air with a German Suplex!

Syn holds TK’s shoulders to the mat for the cover!



1!






KICKOUT!!!!





BAMA T: It’s going to take a lot more than a German Suplex to put Thunder Knuckles away!

TODD: You don’t need to egg Matthias on, Bama! The Syn City Saint’s offense has been relentless so far tonight, the last thing we need is for him to take it up yet another notch!

BAMA T: What do you mean ‘last thing we need’? That’s EXACTLY what we need! These bikers came here for carnage, and it’s on these two to deliver it!

Matthias Syn puts on a devious smirk as he looks down at the back of TK’s head with wicked intentions. The crowd cheers on the bloodshed as Matthias Syn circles the slow-moving body of his downed opponent. After stalking the champion like a predator, Matthias Syn goes in for a curb stomp…but TK rolls out of the ring right before it can connect!

TODD: Quick thinking from the champion, getting out of the way of that curb stomp!

BAMA T: He needs to stop thinking, and start FIGHTING if he wants to hang onto that belt tonight!

TK takes a second to gather himself, wiping a grotesque amount of blood from his brow as Matthias Syn eyes him from inside the ring. Then, Matthias sprints towards the edge of the ring, and leaps over the top chain with a FLYING LEG LARIAT!

BUT THUNDER KNUCKLES SEES IT COMING!

SO MATTHIAS SYN FLIES RIGHT INTO….

A SUPER-KICK!

The crowd chants ‘HOLY SHIT!’ as both men collapse outside the ring.

Thunder Knuckles goes for the pin!

But the referee doesn’t even attempt to count it! The referee never even leaves the ring!

TODD: That’s a miscalculation from Thunder Knuckles! While this match is No Disqualifications, it is NOT falls count anywhere!

BAMA T: What a crock of shit! This is the Thunder Knuckles Saloon, but you’re telling me Thunder Knuckles can’t pin someone outside that bologna ring IN HIS OWN SALOON?!

TODD: Yes, Bama! That is what I am telling you! I didn’t make the rules, I just get paid to announce them!

Thunder Knuckles doesn’t realize the pin isn’t being counted, so after a handful of seconds he rises to a standing position and raises his arms victoriously. TK then gets all up in Syn’s face, dripping blood down onto him, telling him to ‘SUCK IT!’ while making a very inappropriate gesture towards his crotch.

BAMA T: Well, someone had better tell TK that, because he thinks he just won this match!

As Thunder Knuckles taunts in the face of Matthias Syn, The Syn City Saint’s eyes suddenly spring wide-open!

SYN PULLS TK DOWN TO THE GROUND FOR A CRADLE PIN!

THE REFEREE HIGH-TAILS IT OUT OF THE RING SO THAT HE CAN MAKE THE COUNT!


1!







BAMA T: Wait, Todd, what’s happening?! You said this WAS NOT a falls count anywhere match!







2!!





Todd: Well I don’t know for sure Bama, but if you ask me, I’m guessing Corporate influence might have something to do with this total violation of fairness and integrity!














3-


NO!!!!


KICKOUT!!!!!



TK bursts out of the cradle just before the referee can count to 3!

TODD: The fix is in! The fix is in! That referee is working on behalf of The Corporation here tonight, and I think Thunder Knuckles is starting to realize it!

As TK rises to his feet, he looks between the referee and the Syn City Saint with disdain. Syn just flashes a devilishly good looking smile at him!

BAMA T: Thunder Knuckles isn’t just fighting Matthias Syn tonight: he’s fighting the entire corporate infrastructure of the XWF!

TK cusses out the referee before turning his attention back to Syn, the pair trading big punches outside the ring, much to the delight of the biker’s in the crowd! The gash across TK’s forehead grows far and wide as the duo duke it out across the saloon. But the Syn City Saint can’t stay bloodless for long, because TK grabs a half-empty beer bottle out of somebody’s hand, and smashes it against Syn’s face!

The bottle shatters into dozens of glass pieces atop Syn’s head, but TK hangs onto the shard that was once the bottle’s neck! Then, TK takes that shard and rams it into Syn’s skull, just above his ear! Syn cries out in horror as TK uses the glass shard to open up a giant red gash.

TODD: I know we said this match was No-Disqualifications, but even still, I think these men are taking it too far!

BAMA T: They’re leaving all their blood out there, putting everything on the line, to try and go home with the Revolution Championship! And these fans are lapping it all up like wild dogs!

TODD: Are they lapping up the blood, Bama?! Are people in the crowd licking up the blood?!

BAMA T: A biker has to do what a biker has to do, Todd! You know this!

Both Syn and TK leak all across the Saloon like a pair of freshly squeezed lemons while they brawl, except instead of lemon juice coating the floor, it’s blood pouring out from both men’s heads by the liter.

As the men finally get near the ring, Syn pushes TK away to create some space. As soon as there’s some distance between them, Matthias Syn lashes out with his own SUPER-KICK: but TK sweeps Syn’s other foot out from beneath him, causing Matthias to crash-land against the mats outside the ring!

Thunder Knuckles doesn’t waste time, instead, he wipes the blood from his brow and immediately goes to work on his downed opponent! TK unleashes a flurry of steel-toed kicks to his downed opponent, paying special attention to Syn’s head and torso! After TK has stomped Syn’s head into a metaphorical pulp, TK turns around and gives some attention to the steel steps that are connected to the ring.

As TK pulls the steel steps apart, Matthias Syn is on his hands and knees trying to crawl towards the apron. With the referee watching on helplessly, TK takes the steel steps and walks back towards the action. Then…




TK HITS THE REFEREE WITH THE STEPS!




The referee is completely knocked out cold, but TK throws the steps right atop him anyways, causing double the damage!

The crowd goes wild for the vicious assault on the referee as TK raises up an ‘X’ with his arms, indicating to the Producers backstage that this referee is unfit to carry on with the match.

TODD: That Bastard just took out the referee! Matthias Syn was right there, but he took out the referee instead!

BAMA T: Well, what’s the point of taking out Matthias Syn if the referee isn’t going to count for you?! TK knew he needed to get a different referee out here to win tonight, one who hadn’t been bribed! And the only way to do that, was with X-TREME VIOLENCE!

As TK finishes showboating for the crowd, he turns around to focus on Matthias Syn, but the Syn City Saint is no longer laying where TK last saw him!

Instead, Matthias is perched atop the steel chains of the ring! TK curses to himself as Syn leaps off the top chain, twirling his body through the air as he lands a perfect Somersault corkscrew Senton on TK!

Both men collapse to the mat, and the Syn City Saint goes for the pin!


But there’s no referee to count it!

TODD: Syn just hit the huge move, but that referee is still out cold!

BAMA T: Thunder Knuckles is such a genius, he’s not going to lose this match without playing every trick he has up his sleeve! No ref, no loss! It’s a perfect recipe for a title defense!

TODD: But how is he supposed to defend without an official?! How is this match supposed to end?!

BAMA T: Thunder Knuckles doesn’t need this match to -end-, Todd, he just needs to not lose it! For the last four years, Thunder Knuckles has been in an active match against Centurion that he still has not lost! And this match could become another one of his epic, year-long bouts!

TODD: Wait, does TK really have a match against Centurion from four years ago that’s still going on?

BAMA T: YES!

As the commentators debate the finer points of the TK vs Centurion ‘I Quit’ Match from years ago, Matthias Syn gets to his feet and realizes the referee is unavailable. Groaning in annoyance, Syn grabs TK by his hair, then he throws TK into the ring under the bottom chain. After TK is inside the ring, Syn walks over to the referee and removes the steel steps from his body before trying to wake him up.

But it’s no use- that dude is ASLEEP! Or quite possibly dead.

Syn sighs in disappointment with the referee before making his way towards the ringside announcer’s table. Matthias slowly walks up to the Revolution Championship, reaching out and caressing it gently. After a few seconds of golden tenderness, Syn grabs the belt and slides into the ring himself.

TODD: The Syn City Saint has the championship belt in-hand! TK had better watch out!

Syn slides under the bottom chain, then quickly pushes himself up to his feet with the belt ready to go. He sees TK, hunched over and bleeding, standing near the corner. Syn charges right at him with the belt! TK turns around, and…..



TK THROWS POCKET SAND IN SYN’S EYES!!!!



Syn drops the belt and claws at his eyes as TK bears a blood-borne grin. TK kicks Syn in the dick, before driving him down headfirst onto the belt with a DDT! Both men hit the mat and immediately collapse, completely worn out from tonight’s battle! TK doesn’t even think to pin Syn, he’s that out of it from the blood loss and headshots!

TODD: Both men are down, but there’s no referee! We’re in a predicament here, Bama’, and I’m not sure what the rules say we are supposed to do!

BAMA T: The rules say that the referee needs to get off his ass and do his job!

TODD: But he was knocked out by the steel steps!

BAMA T: That’s just an excuse, probably one that was made up for him by the Union!

TODD: Wait a second, Bama….who’s that coming down the ramp?!

The crowd parts as a figure in a black-and-white striped shirt comes jogging out from behind the curtain: a fresh referee, with his eyes locked on the chaos in the ring!

TODD: Finally! Someone’s here to restore some order!

BAMA T: Or at least count the damn pinfalls!

The new official slides into the ring as TK, still covered in blood, slowly crawls over towards Syn and makes the cover.


1!













2!!


























KICKOUT!!!!!


TODD: How in the hell did Syn kick out of that?!

BAMA T: Because Matthias Syn doesn’t stay down for anybody — not even a double-champion Bastard!

The crowd goes crazy as the match carries on! TK gets up to his knees, exhausted and heaving, as Syn slowly starts to stir. Syn crawls over towards the steel chains, using them to lift himself back to a standing position. Syn wipes the sand from his eyes and storms toward TK, trying to deliver a Shining Wizard to his kneeling opponent! But the Bastard explodes upwards with a stiff uppercut right to the jaw! Syn staggers backwards towards the chains!

Syn stumbles against the steel chains, bouncing off them with great pain, and stepping right into a scoop slam from TK! The shoddy ring shakes from the force of Syn’s violent landing!

TK walks over to Syn’s legs, picking up his right ankle as he gestures towards the crowd.

BAMA T: I think we all know what’s about to happen next, Todd!

TODD: The most devastating move in Sports Entertainment!

BAMA T: THUNDER STRIKE!

Thunder Knuckles delivers his patented foot DDT to Matthias Syn, then quickly mounts him for the pin! The new referee dives into position to count!



1!







2!!










3!!!



WINNER BY PINFALL AND STIIIIILLLLLLL REVOLUTION CHAMPION – THUNDER KNUCKLES


The crowd erupts as counterfeit XBUX with TK’s smug face shower the Knuckles Saloon. TK stumbles to his feet, a ringside assistant bringing him both of his championship belts as the new referee raises his hand in victory. TK then raises both the Revolution and Anarchy Tag Championships high in the air, blood streaking down his face as he soaks in the cheers of the rowdy biker gangs.

TODD: Against all odds, Thunder Knuckles has done it! The Bastard beats The Corporation at their own game!

BAMA T: That’s right! He fought the Syn City Saint, he fought The Corporate system, and he came out on top! Bastards rule the world tonight, Todd!

TODD: I’m afraid that’s all the time we have tonight, though, folks! The road to Relentless continues on… but it will lead us out of Sturgis. Where to? We’ll see in two weeks!

[Image: logo2-2.png]
Copyright © 2025 - The Xtreme Wrestling Federation - Established 1999
All Rights Reserved


[Image: wireline.png]


“Welp, can’t wait to see Black Rainbow dip that Harley in black goo next week!”

THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO CONTRIBUTED TO THIS SHOW!

MATCH WRITERS
THE PRINCIPLED PETER
JUMPING JACK BASH
THUNDER *ah ah ah ahhhh ah ah ahhhh ah*
IF I HAD A NICKLE
BARREL-AGED BOURBON

SEGMENT WRITERS
OZZFEST (rip)
KNUCKLES IF YOU BUCKLES
GRAVE MISTAKE
SERIOUS INCLINE
KING IN THE YORK

AND EVERYONE WHO RP’D!
]]>

(THUNDER) KNUCKLE SALOON TAKEOVER!
[Image: vuE1ZV0.png]
08 - 07 - 2025

LIVE! FROM OUTSIDE KNUCKLE SALOON

STURGIS, SOUTH DAKOTA



NEW RIDER MATCH

MARISOL VILARO
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX

Singles
Winner to receive a brand-new(ish) Harley-Davidson and a matching helmet! Then sent out on the town!
(Gas sold separately.)


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TURF WAR (LUMBER-GANG) MATCH

MICHAEL SAINT
- vs -
PRESTON VANDERLAY ESQUIRE

Saint and PVE may invite their "gangs" down to the ring to enforce the outside!
(Lumberjack Match Rules)


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STURGIS BAR FIGHT

SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
REGGIE ESTRADA
- vs -
THIAS WATTS

Triple Threat Bar Room Brawl
We'll cut to the inside of the Knuckle Saloon where these three will duke it out with no disqualifications until one of them is declared the winner by pinfall or submission!


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BIKE BONEYARD MATCH

CELESTINE GALE
- vs -
INQUISITION

Taking place in a nearby scrapyard, this no disqualification match can only end when one combatant buries the other under old, rusty bike parts! Winner will be declared when a standing ten count cannot be reached!
(Last Person Standing Rules)


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BIKER CHAIN BRAWL

ATARA RAVEN
- vs -
AIDEN COLLINS

Raven and Collins will be tethered to one another at the wrist by a 12-foot length of solid steel biker chain! Winner must touch all four turnbuckles in succession to secure victory.
(Strap Match Rules)


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PATCH-IN CO-MAIN

MR. OZ
- vs -
XXXVI

Oz defends his claim to the Revo #1 Contendership against XXXVI! Falls count anywhere, and we're starting this match in the parking lot itself, in the center of a circle of bikes! (Parking Lot Brawl)


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REVOLUTION CHAMPIONSHIP
THUNDER KNUCKLE SALOON MATCH

THUNDER KNUCKLES ©
- vs -
MATTHIAS SYN

The ring ropes will be replaced with STEEL CHAIN and the turnbuckle pads replaced with STUDDED LEATHER. No disqualifications, only Anarchy in its purest form!
Singles




Plumes of Blue and White pyrotechnics shoot out from tubes around the makeshift entry ramp on the stage and mark the start of our show! On this momentous occasion, the XWF has set up camp in the Parking Lot of the Knuckle Saloon for this High-Octane edition of Thursday Night ANARCHY!!! Hundreds of fans surround the ring on this warm South Dakota evening, some making their way in and out of the nearby bar to re-up on refreshments. Even still, there are hundreds, nay, millions more who are watching and x-streaming LIVE from their homes!!!

As soon as the pyros finish, "Lithium" by Nirvana hits over the speakers, officially welcoming XWF fans to yet another edition of their favorite syndicated full-contact wrestling show, which we lovingly refer to as "The A-Show".


TODD: Ohhh yes — now *that’s* how you start a show.

BAMA: Hell yeah it is! Ain’t nothin’ like Nirvana blastin’ through the speakers to let the neighbors know it’s Anarchy time.

The Anarchy announce team is at ringside, preparing for a night filled with action!!  With "Lithium" still playing over the speakers the cameras pan around to those few lucky and avid members of the Anarchy faithful from all ages, races, creeds & colors screaming on the tops of their lungs, proudly wearing their XWF Merchandise and holding up signs for their favorite (or least favorite) stars:


DOLLY! DOLLY! DOLLY!

BLACK RAINBOW BIKER CLUB

LARRY IS THE GREATEST #TACTFACT

ADIAN COLLINS IS MY SPIRIT DEMON

TK ISN'T GOING TO BE OK

15/15

DON'T F*CK WITH OZZY

MICHAEL IS NO SAINT

WELLNESS CHECK ON FRANCES? PLEASE?

I ONLY CAME TO SEE ATARA!

THIAS 3:16

SOMEBODY START A SEB CASH-IN COUNTDOWN

WE MISS YOU JAMES SHARK!!!


The fans both sitting and standing in this unique venue are murmuring and ready to get this SEVEN match card of XWF’s Anarchy underway! Many have been waiting patiently for the start of the show for quite a while, but on the nearby street, there are motors revving and bikes flying down the highway. There's black leather, copious amounts of alcohol, and cigarette smoke as far as the eyes can see and the nose can smell.

The hard cam pans around the ongoing rally catching glimpses of the constant motorcade.

TODD: That’s right! A little "Lithium" to set the tone, a couple kegs on standby, and a ring surrounded by Harleys and chaos — welcome, everyone, to THURSDAY NIGHT ANARCHY, live from the parking lot of the legendary Knuckle Saloon in beautiful STURGIS, SOUTH DAKOTA!

BAMA: The beer is cold, the leather’s hot, and my chihuahua Sassafras already bit two camera guys — we’re off to a great start, Todd.

TODD: Folks, if you see a two-pound blur of fury running around the tech tent, do not attempt to pet her. She's working.

BAMA: She’s security certified. I laminated a badge and everything.

TODD: You’re a treasure, Bama. And listen — I just want to say how thrilled I am to have you back here at the desk. I mean it. You’re a legend, and this show is better with you on it.

BAMA: Hell, I appreciate that, brother. Always a pleasure to ride shotgun on a night like this.

TODD: And thankfully, Jimmy Stars is nowhere in sight. For those wondering — no, he hasn’t been fired (unfortunately), but he has been suspended without pay after being caught selling a “Hall of Legends” induction spot to Preston Vanderlay Esquire.

BAMA: Lord have mercy. That man would sell the moon if he thought he could get a T-shirt deal out of it.

TODD: He’s lucky we didn’t let Sassafras settle it in the parking lot.

BAMA: She was ready! I even got her one of those little "Legend" robes from the merch tent.

TODD: She deserves it more than Preston does. But anyway — tonight is about carnage, titles, and the smell of gasoline and hubris. We’ve got scrapyard brawls, bar fights, biker chain matches... it’s like someone let the apocalypse book the show.

BAMA: And thank God they did. Ain’t a damn thing out here tonight that ain't pure XWF. Let’s light this powder keg.

TODD: We’re kicking things off with the New Rider Match — Marisol Vilaro vs. Latoya Hixx. Winner gets a brand-new(ish) Harley and a matching helmet — gas sold separately.

BAMA: No gas, no problem. Vilaro’s probably gonna try to livestream herself riding off, but Latoya’s been hangry lately. Could be a short trip if Marisol hits a speed bump named HIXX.

TODD: After that, things escalate fast with a Turf War — Lumber-Gang Rules. Michael Saint vs. Preston Vanderlay Esquire, and they’ve both handpicked ringside muscle.

BAMA: You ever see a legal team and a motorcycle club square off at ringside? Me neither. But I brought popcorn and a tire iron just in case.

TODD: Then it’s into the Sturgis Bar Fight — Summer Page, Reggie Estrada, and Thias Watts in a triple threat taking place inside the Knuckle Saloon itself.

BAMA: You can smell the bourbon and blood already. Somebody’s going through a bar table, guaranteed. And if Thias starts throwing shots, that don’t mean tequila.

TODD: Then we take a short trip to a long night in the Bike Boneyard Match — Celestine Gale takes on Inquisition in a Last Person Standing fight... with a twist.

BAMA: That twist being you gotta bury your opponent under a mound of busted motorcycles. It’s like a scrapyard funeral with steel toe boots.

TODD: Then we’ve got a chain-wrapped classic — the Biker Chain Brawl between Atara Raven and Aiden Collins. Tethered at the wrist, steel between them, and four turnbuckles to win.

BAMA: Atara might not have the bulk, but she’s got fury and footwork. Collins better watch that mouth — she might just wrap that chain around his teeth.

TODD: From there we move to our Patch-In Co-Main Event: Mr. Oz defends his #1 Contendership against XXXVI — and this one starts in a circle of bikes in the damn parking lot.

BAMA: It ain’t a match, it’s a biker brawl with a ref. Winner gets a future shot at the Revolution Title. Loser gets tire tracks on his spine. And I don’t think Oz really wants a piece of TK if he wins — but that's dependent on if TK wins...

TODD: Which brings us to the main event: Thunder Knuckles defends the Revolution Championship in his own backyard — the Thunder Knuckle Saloon Match. Chain ropes. Studded leather turnbuckles. No disqualifications.

BAMA: TK’s home turf. Home rules. But Matthias Syn? He was our longest reigning Revolution Champ for a reason. That boy don’t blink. He’s like a rattlesnake hiding under a Bible. You mess up once, he coils.

TODD: And don’t forget — if Syn wins, the entire landscape changes. The Revolution Division could find itself in darker hands than ever before.

BAMA: That’s the beauty of it, Todd. We don’t know how it’s gonna shake out. But whatever happens, it’s gonna hurt.

TODD: Seven matches. One wild night. And we’re bringing it to you live from the heart of 85th Biker Rally in Sturgis!

BAMA: Let’s crack some skulls and raise some hell. Sassafras just howled — I think that means we’re ready.

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This next match is brought to you courtesy of:

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Join us out on the open road at the Rally at Exit 55…
Become a new rider today!

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The crowd pops as current reigning Anarchy champion, ‘Micheal Graves’ (allegedly) is seen walking through the corridors of the XWF backstage area…

He makes it outside the office door of Anarchy GM…

Taped over the door, it reads…

My Office is Locked while I’m appealing my unjust suspension!

DON’T TOUCH MY STUFF! I LEFT IT WHERE I MEANT TO!


…

”Alright. I toldja…” ‘Graves’ exhales, almost like he knew this would happen, as he reaches for his ankle. ”What did I say would happen if you weren’t in your office, Jimmy?”

“THIS would happen.” ‘Graves’ pulls out a bottle of alcohol with a rag in it….

”And what is ‘this’? Your office getting burned d-”

”*ahem* Mister… ‘Graves’?

‘Graves’ turns around. Who’s behind him… But long-time XWF news correspondent Steve Sayors!

”Oh. Hey, Steve-O.” ‘Graves’ grins ear-to-ear in a friendly manner as he reaches into his other pocket for a lighter. ”You might wanna step back! Bet that Axe body spray you douse yourself in is HIGHLY flammable!”

”Uh, before you do that! I have a message!”

”...Message?”

”From Mister Stars! He’s immensely regretful his suspension has prevented him from opening his office to you… But, he wanted to offer you the opportunity to talk on the air!”

”...Talk? About what?”

”Anything! Air your grievances! Talk up your reign, the longest-ever in Anarchy championship history! We’ve got the set ready…”

…

‘Graves’ looks at the ingredients to a molotov cocktail in his hand… Reeeeeeeally weighing his options.

…

Sayors sweats… What if ‘Graves’ is right about the Axe?

…

”Yeeeeeeeeeeeah, fine. Lead the way, Steve-o-lution.”

Sayors lights up and the two disappear down the hall.

TODD: Looks like Jimmy found a way to avoid his office getting torched! Later tonight, we’ll see an exclusive interview between Steve Sayors and the Anarchy champion, ‘Micheal Graves’ himself!

…

TODD: Allegedly.

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TODD: Folks, our opening match tonight promises to be an absolute thrill ride!

BAMA: And one of these women is going home with a brand spankin’ new(ish) Harley Davidson! And this match is sponsored by Black Hills Harley-Davidson®.  Your full-service Harley-Davidson® dealership in Western South Dakota! Every day, the fine specialists at Black H-

TODD: Why don’t we save the ad reads for the commercial breaks, Bama?

BAMA: I am a professional, Toddrick! And I was told if I don’t do the whole ad-read, Jimmy’s gonna take it outta my paycheck.

…

BAMA: so, *ahem* Buy Harley-Davidsons!

By ringside is a (nearly) brand new Harley Davidson chopper!

TODD: Neat!



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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!

TODD: Latoya Hixx! One of the strongest women in the wrestling world! One of the most incredible physical specimens to ever grace the squared circle!

BAMA: She’s more than big, Todd! She’s large!

TODD: Every week, Hixx promises this is the week she turns it around. This week, she’ll take the first step to securing her first bit of gold in the XWF! She’s got the physical gifts, she just needs to fine-tune the mental game. Can she start on that road tonight towards championship gold?

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!

…

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 was already dominating Thursday nights before her recent joining with the dark cloud looming over all of the XWF, Black Rainbow! Now, she and her manager, the Ambitchous One, the “Snarktopous” Nessa Wall, are poised to take over the entire XWF!

BAMA: You ain’t kiddin’, Todd! Mari… sorry, what was that you said?

TODD: Poised to takeover the ent-

BAMA: Before that.

TODD: …Dark cloud looming ov-

BAMA: After that.

TODD: …Uh… she and her manager, Ambitchous One, the “Snarktopous” Nessa Wall?

…

STARS: Huh. AmBITCHous.

…

TODD: Uh… anyway. Point being, Marisol is climbing to even higher heights in the XWF! A victory tonight would see her have an even stronger claim to the top of Anarchy’s echelons!

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: …Two VERY game competitors with two… VERY… long entrances, huh, Bama?

BAMA: I’m on the PHONE, Todd. Yes, US Trademark office? Could you check if anyone owns the rights to put ‘Ambitchous One’ on t-shirts?

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…

TODD: This is a matchup of raw power versus… precision cruelty. Latoya is one of the strongest women in the game—but Mari? She’s not just strong. She’s disciplined. And that might be the difference tonight.

BAMA: Disciplined, dominant, dangerous—this is why she’s the face of the Black Rainbow. The Thursday night flagship of the franchise, some might say.

TODD: When you say ‘some might say’... did Jimmy Stars tell you to say that, Bama?

BAMA: …I need the money, Toddy boy. As the youths say, ‘stop blowing up mah spot.’

Latoya Hixx paces in her corner, bouncing on the balls of her feet, jaw set tight. Her nostrils flare, muscles tense beneath her tank-like frame. Her eyes burn with indignation—she sees Marisol across the ring, not just as competition, but as audacity. A smaller woman daring to stand across from her.

Nessa gives her client a thumbs-up before ducking between the ropes to the outside… Marisol Vilaró, expression calm but eyes electric, adjusts her elbow pad with a slow, deliberate motion. She smiles—but not warmly. Her lips curl at the corner, like she already knows how this ends.

DING DING!


NEW RIDER MATCH

MARISOL VILARO
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX

Singles
Winner to receive a brand-new(ish) Harley-Davidson and a matching helmet! Then sent out on the town!
(Gas sold separately.)


Latoya explodes forward, shouting as she charges for a lock-up, lips curled in a sneer, arms wide.

Marisol doesn't meet her in kind. Her eyes flick up in amused surprise, then narrow as she smoothly ducks low and pivots, stepping around Latoya’s flank like a matador.

Latoya stumbles forward off-balance, blinking rapidly, momentarily unsure how she didn’t just overpower her.

TODD: Ole! Latoya came in expecting a shove-fest. Mari didn’t even offer one.

BAMA: That’s what separates the elite from the ELITE of the elite, Toddrick! Mari’s not going to wrestle Latoya’s match—she’s going to make Latoya wrestle hers.

Latoya spins around in the corner, ready for another attack…But Mari calmly paces around the ring, keeping that matador energy…

TODD: Mari, clearly looking to exploit Latoya’s brash, explosive energy, looking to let herself tire her out and let her elite-level conditioning carry her to victory!

Latoya’s face flashes anger. Her jaw clenches, and she slaps her own chest, growling. She turns with her arms raised again—this time slower, calculating. She stalks Mari with her shoulders hunched forward, attempting a feint to bait her in.

Marisol's brow arches—not mocking, but as if she’s seeing a toddler pretend to be a tiger. She obliges the approach, stepping in, only to instantly catch Latoya's arm…

Twist! Spinning wrist lock sprawls Latoya down the mat!

TODD: WOW! Latoya is genuinely one of the strongest competitors on the roster! And Vilaro just dropped her on her front effortlessly!

BAMA: #VilaroFit, baby!

Latoya grits her teeth, eyes going wide as her arm’s wrenched unnaturally into a hammerlcok behind her back. Her face scrunches—not just from pain, but confusion. She knows she’s stronger. How is she stuck like this?

Mari lets her lock sink in deeper, dragging Hixx lower and lower to the mat, as if Hixx was sinking in quicksand!

TODD: Hixx has to make a move now or this one could be over in record time!

Hixx grits her teeth!

With the unique grunt starkly close to that of a Bulgarian tennis player, Hixx grunts, whipping her other arm across in a wild back elbow!

…Mari whips her head back, barely being grazed by the elbow! Mari releases the hold gracefully, pirouetting back a step.

TODD: That elbow was VICIOUS! If Mari hadn’t released the hold, her head might have gotten knocked into the third row!

Hixx spins around, having been freed from the hold…

…Mari flexes one arm casually—demonstrating control—then smirks, clearly inviting Latoya to try again.

TODD: Despite her near-decapitation experience, Mari looks completely in control!

BAMA: Like a shepherd guiding a lamb to a slaughter, Todd. Mari seems to know everything Latoya’s gonna do! It’s like she’s got Hixx working off a script is how deep Mari is in Latoya’s head!

Latoya growls through her teeth, face beet red. She rushes again…

Mari backs up!

TODD: Oh my! Possible miscalculation by Mari! She’s cornered!

Marisol’s shoulders are against the corner! Her eyes widen!

Hixx dives! Stinger Splash!

…But Marisol somersaults under, to the center of the ring! She springs to her feet, opening her hands, beckoning applause…

But Hixx caught herself on the ropes! She remains on the middle-rope!

TODD: Oh my! I think Mari thought Latoya would ram her skull into that turnbuckle like a bull! For once, Latoya put on the brakes and Mari has no idea!

BAMA: Wow. Maybe a dumb dog can learn a trick or two!

Latoya, not used to aerial maneuvers, slowly rotates to put herself in position to fly from the middle rope…

Mari turns around…

Hixx Leaps!

CROSSBODY!

TODD: Hixx connects! Possible major upset here!

Hixx hooks both of Mari’s legs with everything she’s got!

The official drops to count!

ONE!

TWO!

THR-NO! Mari finds the wherewithal to force the shoulder up

Latoya springs out of the pin from Mari’s kickout. She holds up three fingers? The official shakes his head, holding two in reply.

TODD: Hixx thought she had it there…

BAMA: But she’s still got the advantage for the moment! She can’t let it slip!

Mari is already rising off the mat, looking furious she was even briefly outthought by Hixx..

Latoya grunts, pulling herself up to her feet. As Mari rises back to a vertical base, Hixx throws a desperate…

HAYMAKER!

…But Mari ducks under! As Hixx’s fist sails by, Mari delivers a…

BOOT TO THE STOMACH!

TODD: Oooooof, I think that one went so deep, it hit Hixx in her jejunum!

Hixx doubles-over, collapsing to one knee…

As Mari hoists her into a front-facelock!

VILAROIZER!

TODD: Wow! The Vilaroizer! That’s gotta be it!

The official drops to count…

ONE!

TWO!

TH-...

Mari wrenches Latoya off the ground, holding the front-facelock…

TODD: Whoa! …Wait, I don’t think Latoya kicked out!

BAMA: Nope! I think that counter pissed Mari off! And she’s sending a message to Latoya! Next time, take your beating quietly!

Latoya’s arms dangle. Her mouth is open, tongue slightly out, eyes unfocused.

Mari heaves her through the air!

SECOND VILAROIZER!

TODD: Another picture-perfect suplex from Marisol! That’s gonna do it!

ONE!

TWO!

THR-...

…Once again, Mari heaves Latoya’s shoulder off the mat, holding her front-face lock!

TODD: Oh c’mon! This is unsportsmanlike! This is depraved!

BAMA: This is the Black Rainbow, Toddy! They don’t just want to beat their opponents! They want to sap the will to fight on from each and every member of the roster…

Latoya groans… Her feet struggle to support her weight, as she drops to one knee…

Mari finds the hard camera and stares into it, as she holds Latoya…

…

TODD: …Creepy.

THIRD VILAROIZER!

Pin. Hooking the leg deep.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

Winner: Marisol Vilaró


TODD: Three straight Vilaróizers. I think Latoya Hixx went into this match she’d out-muscle Marisol. Instead, she just got outclassed.

BAMA: Hixx got creative and got a lucky strike on Mari! And on a different night, maybe with a tighter pin? She could’ve stolen the victory! But facing an opponent like the Queen of #VilaroFit! She’s not gonna give you a second chance to put her in the ground if you miss the first one! She looked absolutely DOMINANT! And to the victory go the (basically) brand new spoils!

Mari creeps out the ring down the stairs, guided by her manager, the Snarktopus…

The two hop on the (allegedly) brand new Harley Davidson and drive up the ramp to the back!

TODD: Huh! Guess there was some gas in there! Welp, can’t wait to see Black Rainbow dip that Harley in black goo next week!

BAMA: You know who I bet could clean off that black goo that stains the cosmos itself? The good people at the service department of Black Hills Harley Davidson! For over twenty ye-

TODD: Please just go to commercial.

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XWF LEAP OF FAITH '25
DID YOU MISS THE JUMP?

WATCH THE WHOLE THING AGAIN and Relive Every Bloody Step of LEAP OF FAITH — Streaming FREE* only on: XWF99.com!

*Free with a small, legally binding, 1,289-month subscription to the XWF X-STREAMing Service™ 
– Requires proof of soul ownership and signed waiver of morality – 
*Otherwise it’s $19.99 and your dignity

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The camera cuts through the crowd gathered outside the Knuckle Saloon. Rows of motorcycles line the streets. Bikers, fans, and locals pack shoulder to shoulder, chanting, drinking, and waving signs that read things like “I CAME FOR THE VEGGIE PLATTER AND STAYED FOR THE TITS” and “ANARCHY RULEZ”. Pyro shoots into the sky as the XWF logo flashes across the big screen mounted on the stage.

TODD: Sturgis, South Dakota, home to the biggest biker rally on the planet and tonight, home to XWF Anarchy! We take you outside the Knuckle Saloon where we have a very special talent showcase.

The crowd goes nuts as the sound of a motorcycle revving. Two motorcycles burst through the entrance and they slide to a stop near the stage. Them No Good Bastards have arrived, they dismount their bikes, and walk on to stage, Thunder Knuckles wearing his half of the Anarchy Tag Team Championships around his waist, Revolution Championship slung over his shoulder, and has a megaphone in hand. Bobby Bourbon also has his Anarchy Championship around his waist, but he has the Xtreme Championship slug over his shoulder. TK raises the megaphone and yells over the wild crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen, degenerates and deviants, welcome to the first-ever Bastard Wet T-Shirt Showdown! Brought to you by Anarchy, Industrial road goop, and the XWF’s lack of a human resources department!"

Bobby Bourbon is twirling a foam #1 finger, smirking, TK hands him the megaphone.

"That’s right, we told management we wanted a ‘talent showcase,’ and they gave us a blank check! Nothing says talent, real solid talent, than a Midwestern wet t-shirt contest!"

The crowd goes wild.

"Now, here’s how this works. Six contestants, one bucket of water, one t-shirt, and two judges who’ve been banned from judging anything in 48 states. ME and the big bad of big bads, your Xtreme Champion Bobby Bourbon!"

"We have very specific criteria; originality, enthusiasm, congeniality, some questions where the contestant can say something about world peace, and… uh… let's be honest, the less that shirt’s doing its job, the better your score!"

TK is grinning like the devil himself.

"Alright, Anarchy! Let’s get this party fuckin' started! These ladies are about to show us why wet t-shirts were invented in the first place. I’m talkin’ pure talent and by talent, I mean titties!"

Bobby Bourbon begins to chuckle, pointing the foam finger to the crowd.

"Hey now, TK, it ain’t just about the titties. These women are good people with big hearts, big dreams, and yeah, chesticles so chestacular you forget to care if they have a booty or a nass."

The crowd of bikers cheer for boobies. The first contestant, Mandi, steps up and gets soaked. The crowd pops, and TK leans forward with a giant smile on his face.

"Now that is championship level cleavage right there! Mandi, you’re a ten outta ten in my book."

"She’s a wonderful competitor, man. You can tell she’s got spirit, confidence, and yeah. Those are top-tier tatas. She should definitely take the stage again."

Thunder Knuckles nods, eyes scanning the lineup.

"Yeah, but you gotta give Courtney a chance, Bobby."

Courtney steps up, looking nervous, it doesn’t look like she’s packing much heat indeed her white t-shirt. TK shrugs. Bobby Bourbon starts encouraging Courtney.

"She’s got a big heart, TK. This is her moment."

Thunder Knuckles half-hearted not seeing anything special in Courtney.

"Bro, Courtney might not have what it takes here..."

That's when she's splashed with the water. Her shirt clings perfectly, the crowd explodes for Courtney’s perfect tits! TK's eyes widen.

"Holy shit...nevermind, those tits were deceiving! Courtney, goddamn girl!"

Next up, Glady takes the stage, a 72-year-old woman with confidence to spare. Before the water hits, she removes her dentures, winks at TK, and gives his own signature jerking-off motion by her mouth, much like Syn did in his promotional material against TK. The crowd loses it while TK looks horrified and takes a step back. Bobby Bourbon starts laughing, taking a step back too.

"She's all yours, TK."

"Fuck no."

Gladys gets splashed anyway, proudly raising her arms to a mix of cheers and laughter. Bobby wipes his eyes from laughing.

"Look, I’m taking Mandi and Courtney to get ice cream after this. You… you can figure out what to do with Gladys."

TK shaking his head, chuckling.

"I’m gonna need fuckin' therapy after this shit, man. If James Shark didn't flunk out, maybe I coulda got his therapist's number."

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU BASTARDS DOING?!”

The party vibes inside the saloon suddenly come screeching to a halt. The saloon doors bust open, and out walks the one and only NICKLEMAN. The music scratches as everyone turns their necks to face the embodiment of the XWF’s Corporate Authority.

Charlie walks past a gaggle of horned up bikers, sneering at them with disdain. Once Charlie passes through enough of the debauchery to reach TK and Bobby, he grabs his suitjacket and gives it a fierce tug before addressing them.

“Whatever this is, it ends now!”

The Nickleman yells at TK and Bobby as he looks around the Wet T-shirt contest, which is packed to the brim with drunken, horned-up bikers.

“Who the hell is paying for this syphilis show?!”

TK bears a shit-eating grin as he pulls out the ‘Talent Showcase’ check, which is hand signed by Charlie Nickles.

“Well…you are, Charlie!”

Charlie’s mouth drops and his eyes go wide as TK hands him the blank check, complete with Charlie’s signature. A comically sized bead of sweat drips down Charlie’s forehead.

“This check was for an XWF Talent Showcase! This isn’t a talent showcase, this is a god-damned AIDs party!”

The Nickleman rips the blank check up into a million little pieces, throwing them at the feet of Them No Good Bastards.

“You Bastards lied to me on your paperwork to get funding for THIS?!?!”

“We promised a talent showcase, Charlie! We didn’t fuckin’ lie!”

“Yeah, what TK said! Are you on drugs again, Charlie?”

Nickles wipes a speck of white powder from his nose as he sniffles through a retort.

“What?! No, of course not!”

“Well…do you want to be?”

TK pulls a handful of drugs from out of his pocket. A few marijuna nugs, a few pills, you know, the usual stuff! Charlie swats TK’s hand away.

“Let me guess: Corporate Dollars paid for those, too?!”

Them No Good Bastards share a no-look fist bump as Charlie flies into a rage.

“You Bastards have no respect for this company, no respect for this brand, and no respect for ME, your Acting General Manager AND Official XWF Corporate Liaison!

But don’t you fucking worry, boys…because I know lessons can only be learned the hard way in this company.

And ohhhhh boy Teekz, do you got a fuckin’ lesson coming your way tonight.

Matthias.

Syn.”

Charlie lets the name linger in the air like a hot knife, slicing through the silent tension.

“252 days, Teekz.

Syn held that belt longer than you’ve ever held anything in your fucking life.

Well, except for that crush on Bobby.”

“Four years and counting.”

TK rolls his eyes and gives his often imitated jerking off hand gesture.

“If Matthias Syn wants that belt back, Tee-Kay, he’ll take it back- that’s not even in question. But your greasy little fingers have already defiled that title, so tonight’s Main Event isn’t about your Revolutionary trinket anymore.

Tonight’s Main Event is about one thing, and one thing only, my Bastardly Brothers:

Tonight, Matthias Syn is teaching all you Revolutionaries backstage a god-damned lesson in RESPECT!”

The Nickleman has worked himself into a panting lather, breathing hot and heavy as TK and Bobby just look at each other with bemused bewilderment.

“So this little biker shindig you two were throwing on company time?

Consider it over!

And as far as your Revolutionary hopes and dreams go?

Consider them dead in the damn water!

You Bastards can sit and worship at the altar of Chairwoman Waters all you want, but The Corporation will NEVER let you Revolutionary sycophants turn the XWF into some sorta SOVIET DIDDY-PARTY!!!

NEVER!!!!”

Charlie turns away from TNGB, and starts shutting down the entire party! He gets extremely aggressive with the attendees, pushing and kicking them towards the exit like literal cattle. The gathered crowd slowly thins out as Charlie goes up to everyone and screams in their face that if they don’t “GET THE FUCK OUT”, then they will “FIND THE FUCK OUT!”.

"The fuck are you even talking about Charlie?"

TK, puzzled, looks over at Bobby.

"Bro, I really think he’s on drugs."

Well, bro, I think it's time we had a come to Bastardly Father moment. I have been in the Revolution with Flynn, A.L.G.,  and Schism since day one. I kind of put them on hold to go win the Anarchy tags, but it's why you keep seeing us hang out.

TK shrugs because both things could be true.

”I’m not in the Revolution am I?”

”No, no, I don’t think you are? Doesn’t matter, Syn’s doomed no matter who he’s affiliated with.”

”Facts.”

Bobby addresses the thinning crowd.

”Alright, everybody, Charlie sucks and is going to just make a ton of noise here until we stop and doesn’t wanna see top tier boobies. So, I guess, this whole segment is over.”

Bobby looks over at Mandi and Courtney.

"Are you ladies ready to get some ice cream?”

Both of the ladies cling to Bobby’s arms, Glady heads their way but when she gets close TK shoves her old ass down. The Revolution, Xtreme, and Anarchy Tag Team Champions walk to the locker room, one to lay it down, and the other to lay Matthias Syn down.

TODD: Well... if you had 'Glady gets shoved' on your Anarchy bingo card, congratulations — you just hit a row.

BAMA: Man, I came here for the ribs and ended up seein’ the revolution get motorboated. Only in Sturgis, baby.

TODD: But now that the foam fingers and foam cups have been cleared away, it’s time to shift gears. Coming up next — no ice cream, no spray bottles — just pure violence.

BAMA: Time for a little bit of a Turf War!

[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: This next match features two of the newest additions to the Anarchy roster! Two explosive personalities looking to take Thursday Nights by storm!

BAMA: Two very bright futures, Todd! And one of them is already an XWF Legend!

TODD: Oh Jesus, Bama,you can’t be serious?!?



The opening riff of Save Yourself hits the PA system and crimson lighting casts over the arena.

A few moments pass by and Saint steps into a spotlight with his head lowered and his arms outstretched like a martyr, he welcomes his disciples to stand beside him.

Both the Angels of Malice and Valerie Morgan stand behind him, their shadow silhouetted on the ramp before him. Hoods mask their faces as they escort Saint to the ring.

TODD: “Midnight” Michael Saint, self-described as “Your Savior”... He claims he’s here to rid wrestling of its filth and disease rotting it from within! And he made crystal clear his opinion on his… “opponent” tonight. Calling him cowardly and ignorant, trading suffering for spectacle! He’s promised to personally inflict the suffering that his opponent has managed to avoid up to this point!

Morgan hops onto the apron and separates the ropes for Saint and bows her head in his presence. Saint gets into the ring and sits on the canvas in the corner while his disciples disappear into the darkness before the lights come back on. Valerie Morgan takes a seat at ringside in her black chair, staff in hand.



“Paper Planes” by M.I.A. hits the speakers. The arena blacks out completely as a cold robotic voice echoes:

“Please stand by for a priority broadcast from the office of Preston Vanderlay Esquire… Wrestling’s Wealthiest Winner.”

A massive golden “V” lights up on the titantron. Suddenly, the curtain parts, not for Preston, but for two identically dressed male attendants in tuxedos, who roll out an absurdly long red carpet lined with gold trim, leading all the way to ringside. They are followed by a fog machine team in full uniform, blasting synthetic mist infused with a $700 designer cologne.

The beat drops, and the words “Take your money” pulse with the lights, right as a custom-built gold-plated luxury mobility throne rises from beneath the stage. Reclining in it like a Roman emperor is Preston Vanderlay Esquire, draped in a white silk trench coat with golden lapels, his sunglasses gleaming with his initials etched on them.

BAMA: And here he is! PRESTON. VANDERLAY ESQUIRE. XWF LEGEND!

TODD: Oh shuddup, Bama! The fact this rich idiot was ‘given’ a spot in the XWF Hall of Legends before he’s even competed in a match is demeaning to the accomplishments of every ACTUAL legend in there!

BAMA: …Jeez. Tell us how you really feel, Todd! Look, as a manager and talent seeker, sometimes, you have to roll the dice. Sometimes you see an unopened treasure chest and you take a chance on the contents being astounding. In the long run, perhaps Jimmy Stars will be recognized for seeing Preston Vanderlay Esquire for the legend that he is before anyone else ever did!

TODD: Jimmy doesn’t have the power to decide who does or doesn’t go in the Hall of Legends!

BAMA: Semantics!

PVE’s not alone. Flanking him on each side in slow, synchronized choreography are his disciples Briggs Wellington, Dashford Luxe, and Regan Vale.

Briggs Wellington stomps down first, arms crossed, cracking his neck, dressed in an emerald suit-vest over tactical gear. Dashford Luxe flips onto the ramp out of nowhere, striking a pose midair before moonwalking partway down like he’s dancing through stock options. Regan Vale walks while cracking knuckles that are clad in black leather gloves. Her eyes are wild and yearning.

As Preston’s throne glides forward on a hidden track, attendants throw faux stock certificates and shredded cease-and-desist orders into the crowd like confetti. Gold sparks rain from the ceiling while a voiceover plays:

“Introducing the undisputed architect of all victory… Wrestling’s one true trust fund tactician… PRESTON. VANDERLAY. ESQUIRE.”

At ringside, a plush ottoman step unit is rolled into place. Preston stands, slowly removes his jacket, and hands it to an assistant like it’s a crown jewel. His disciples form a loose triangle behind him as he ascends the stairs one step at a time, pausing on the apron to scan the crowd with visible disdain.

TODD: Not only did Preston Vanderlay Esquire install his own shrine in the XWF Hall of Legends… He also opened a poll as to which Legend should be REMOVED so he can take their spot. And when two legends tied… He destroyed them both! Both James Raven AND Lee Stone have had their spaces destroyed by PVE!

BAMA: You know what it takes to be a legend? Audacity! And Preston Vanderlay Esquire has it in spades! He’s not hampered by respect or awe for the men and women that came before him… Only the possibility of what he can bring to the ring!

TODD: He’s not even getting in the ring, Bama! He’s sitting outside and one of his three lackeys is going to compete for him!

STARS: Innovating the game in a whole new way!

Inside the ropes, Dashford lounges in the corner like a smug hype man, Briggs looms with arms raised and flexed, and Regan paces slowly in a circle like a predator. Preston raises one hand to his temple, smiles like he just closed a billion-dollar deal, and steps to the center as fireworks go off indoors.

After a few more seconds of the crowd booing the fuck out of him, Preston activates his Freebird Rule clause and selects one of his three student-diciples to fight for him… Regan Vale!

BAMA: Regan won the poll, and Preston is nothing if not a man of the people!

Saint stares daggers as Preston who carefully shimmies down from the apron, flanked by his two disciples not actively competing… As Regan smiles sadistically, daring him with her eyes to keep looking at her boss rather than her.

DING DING!


TURF WAR (LUMBER-GANG) MATCH

MICHAEL SAINT
- vs -
PRESTON VANDERLAY ESQUIRE

Saint and PVE may invite their "gangs" down to the ring to enforce the outside!
(Lumberjack Match Rules)



TODD: Here we go, the debut of Michael Saint and the… “debut”... of Preston Vanderlay Esquire, by his proxy, Regan Value!

BAMA: You couldn’t have two more opposite competitors! A walking cautionary tale for the industry—and across from him? The definition of controlled aggression: Regan Vale, handpicked and battle-hardened by none other than Preston Vanderlay Esquire.

Inside the ring, Saint and Regan lock eyes.

Saint’s stare is cold, steady, calculating. Regan’s posture is loose but deadly—like a fuse waiting to spark. They circle once—twice—and then engage in a tight collar-and-elbow tie-up.

TODD: They’re locking up with a collar-and-elb… Whoa, Saint with the early leverage—waistlock… Into a standing switch by Regan! Beaut- wait, Standing switch back! Saint has it!

BAMA: These two are moving so quick through the chain-wrestling sequence, Todd’s getting tongue-tied trying to call it!

Saint transitions from a rear-waistlock, bullying Valee into a side headlock—tight and snug—Regan grits her teeth and slips backwards out of Saint’s grip, grabbing a wristlock! Saint nods slightly as if approving, recognizing a fellow competitor of the industry he’s here to save…

TODD: A fascinating difference here… I think Saint truly admires the wrestlers in PVE’s employ… but he hates PVE for refusing to get his hands dirty himself!

BAMA: Close minded, Toddy baby! Won’t someone think of the hard work PVE does orchestrating this trio of top-tier talent! If Regan wins tonight, PVE was the architect of the victory! Of course he deserves the win!

TODD: And if Saint pulls itself, the XWF “Legend” will have an XWF record of 0-and-1!

In a flash, Saint spins out, traps Vale’s arm, and slides her down into a hammerlock. Regan grits her teeth, flipping over to reverse the pressure and grab a headscissors!

TODD: Wow! These two are trading tit-for-tat, every exchange, the other is mounting a counter for!

BAMA: This is what I’m talking about! Michael Morgan, before his transformation, was one of the best talents in the entire wrestling industry! And look at Preston Vanderlay Esquire, holding his own!

TODD: …REGAN VALE is holding her own, Bama! Preston is standing outside the ring!

BAMA: Architecting his disciple toward victory!

Saint kips out—fluid—and BAM! A spinning backfist straight to Regan’s jaw!

TODD: Wow! That a strike might have knocked a screw loose in Regan’s noggin… If she had any screws in the correct spots from the get-go! She is immensely in the ring, but may also be deranged!

Regan hits the ropes, dazed, and tumbles over the top rope and straight outta the ring—landing at the feet of the Angels of Malice and Valerie Morgan

TODD: Uh-oh. Regan Vale’s in dangerous territory now!

BAMA: And here’s where the PVE branding breaks down, Todd—because those aren't just Saint’s allies. That’s a cult. And they don’t do marketing deals… they render JUDGMENT!

The Angels of Malice step forward in eerie silence, arms crossed. Valerie stands still, tilting her head, smiling.

For a moment, it seems like they’re poised to swoop upon Regan… But Saint barks them back!

BAMA: The HELL is Saint doing? Calling off his lumberjacks?!?

TODD: As he said in his promo, Michael Saint doesn’t hate the disciples of Preston Vanderlay Esquire… He pities them. Calls them slaves! What purpose would it serve beating down one undeserving of Saint’s judgment, except a beatdown?

Regan glares up from one knee, no panic in her expression.

From the relative safety of the other side of the ring, PVE barks at Vale to get back in there!

Vale darts back into the ring with no hesitation.

TODD: No fear from Regan Vale. That’s those MMA instincts coming into play!

BAMA: That’s why Preston picked her! AND that’s why the Vanderlay brand is undefeated—Preston Vanderlay Esquire doesn’t recruit. He acquires assets.

TODD: …I think undefeated might be overstating a record when he hasn’t actually wrestled yet…

BAMA: UNDEFEATED. XWF. LEGEND.

The moment Vale re-enters the ring, the two snaps back to their rapid-fire exchange of moves…

Vale tries to secure a front-facelock, but Saint side-steps deliberately—sweeping his foot under her ankle with a single leg takedown, then dropping a knee onto her throat! Regan kicks the mat, momentarily rattled, cradling her larynx!

BAMA: Y’know, kind of a mixed message to call off his goons, then drop a knee to crush Vale’s windpipe!

TODD: That’s Michael Saint’s game. He doesn’t sprint—he constricts. Saint’s suffocating her pace now!

BAMA: Also, just regular suffocating her!

After a few seconds driving his knee into Vale’s throat, Saint peels her off the canvas, lifts her with calm strength…

SNAP SUPLEX!

He floats over into a side headlock, twisting Vale’s neck against his chest…

Outside the ring, Preston Vanderlay is throwing his arms in the air, screaming into the void, demanding Value stop messing around and finish it!

TODD: Look at Preston! That’s a man whose stock is plummeting!

Back inside, Saint hooks Vale off the mat, maintaining his headlock, setting up forMidnight Hour (lifting double-arm DDT)l…

WHAM! Regan ducks low and counters with a picture-perfect side kick to the chest!

TODD: What a kick! And Saint is sent skyward!

Saint crashes over the ropes, flipping to the outside—right in front of Preston.

BAMA: OHHH BOY. That’s not just bad positioning. That’s a hostile takeover waiting to happen.

Preston doesn’t blink. He straightens his tie, points with authority.

Briggs Wellington and Dashford Luxe spring into action, launching pummeling blows and stomps to the back of Michael Saint!

BAMA: Oh dear, it looks like Preston Vanderlay Esquire is not extending the same kindness Saint did calling off his flock!

TODD: But here come the Angels of Malice! Looking malicious as ever!

The Angels of Malice intercept, catching Briggs and swinging wild fists. Valerie sprints in, slapping Dashford across the face so hard the crowd gasps.

TODD: CHAOS OUTSIDE! THE LUMBERJACKS ARE OFF THE LEASH!

BAMA: You wanted Anarchy? THIS is Anarchy!

The outside erupts—

Briggs trades fists with both Angels, roaring but outnumbered.

Dashford spins away from Valerie, only to get pulled back into a forearm.

Preston retreats a few steps, horrified, waving his arms like a man trying to stop a boardroom fire.

In the middle of the wreckage… Michael Saint rises. Face shadowed, eyes locked on Preston, a storm building behind them.

TODD: Saint’s back on his feet—and he’s looking right through Preston Vanderlay Esquire!

BAMA: No, no, no—Preston, baby, get outta there! This man does not do well with personal space!

Saint charges through the chaos, eyes locked on Preston—hand stretching out like he's about to drag a sin from the earth itself…

…

But Regan Vale launches herself through the ropes and smashes into Saint with a low diving shoulder tackle!

TODD: REGAN VALE! SLIDING IN HEADFIRST like Pete Rose at home plate! She just cut him off at the knees!

BAMA: Impeccable Timing! You can’t teach that—well, Preston can.

Both crash hard onto the floor as Dashford Luxe and Briggs Wellington keep Saint’s crew preoccupied, fists flying in all directions. Briggs tanks blows from both Angels of Malice, throwing haymakers back with ruthless rhythm. Dashford and Valerie are practically a blur—flips, elbows, screaming chaos.

TODD: This is a lumberjack match in name only—it’s an outright warzone outside that ring!

BAMA: Anarchy, baby! God I missed it!

Regan rises, grabs Saint by the head, and hurls him under the bottom rope with violent urgency.

She slides in after him—and just like that, Preston is suddenly all cheers and clapping, like he never even ran from the man moments ago.

TODD: Regan Vale setting up now—this could be it!

She pulls Saint upright—hooks the arms, rotates the hips—

BAMA: Here comes The Liquidation Event! Preston’s bread-and-butter!

…

But Saint slips free! A twist of the waist—Regan’s grip breaks—Saint seizes the moment and—

TODD: SNAP GERMAN SUPLEX!!

Regan is folded in half and bounces off the canvas! Saint holds the bridge!

ONE!

TWO!

THR-Regan kicks out!

TODD: SHE’S STILL IN IT!

BAMA: That’s Vanderlay durability, baby! Trademark resilience by PVE!

TODD: HE’S NOT EVEN IN THE RING, BAMA!

Saint rolls up to one knee, shaking out the cobwebs. Regan is slower to rise. Saint sees his window…

TODD: Saint setting up for Confessional!

Saint hits the ropes looking for that signature knee lift—

But Preston grabs his ankle from the outside!

TODD: HEY! What the—!

BAMA: Executive intervention! That’s… strategic disruption!

Saint skids to a halt and immediately turns, venom in his eyes.

…Preston is straightening his tie, turning his back, as if accomplishing himself on saving the m-

Suddenly, Saint reaches down over the ropes and grabs Preston by the collar, trying to drag him into the ring.

TODD: He’s got the architect of this whole circus by the neck!

BAMA: Call timeout! CALL TIMEOUT!

PVE is kicking and screaming, like a being dragged into Hell! Saint nearly has him in the ring…

CRACK!

Regan Vale nails Saint from behind with The Market Crash—that snap swinging neckbreaker lands flush!

BAMA: MARKET CRASH OUTTA NOWHERE! And Saint might be out cold!

Regan dives onto the cover—hooks the leg tight—

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

WINNER: PRESTON VANDERLAY ESQUIRE (via his proxy Regan Vale)


Outside the ring, the Angels of Malice are distracted by the bell’s ring… Which give PVE’s lackeys a window to break away with their boss and get back up the ramp!

TODD: What a travesty! What an absolute joke! Regan Vale took advantage of the distraction by PVE getting involved and… and…

BAMA: Say it, Todd! She got the win! Which contractually means Preston VANDERLAY Esquire won! Which makes him…

TODD: please don’t say it…

BAMA: AN UNDEFEATED XWF LEGEND!

TODD: *sigh* well, this definitely isn’t over between Michael Sant’s crew and Preston VANDERLAY Esquire! But tonight at least, PVE secures victory!

[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: Folks, this isn’t a match in a regular wrestling ring! We’re going straight to the ol’ Knuckle Saloon for an ol’ fashion barroom brawl!

BAMA: You ain’ lyin’, Toddy! We got three mean, sons a’ bitches, ready to tear each other limb-from-limb to score the ol’ W tonight!


STURGIS BAR FIGHT

SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
REGGIE ESTRADA
- vs -
THIAS WATTS

Triple Threat Bar Room Brawl
We'll cut to the inside of the Knuckle Saloon where these three will duke it out with no disqualifications until one of them is declared the winner by pinfall or submission!


The bell rings inside the Knuckle Saloon. The bikers press in from every corner, cheering, heckling, and recording on their phones.

TODD: Summer Page is standing with her arms crossed in the middle of the floor.

BAMA: Reggie Estrada is pacin’ like a man on a mission, hoodie still on, slappin’ his chest and getting in the faces of random fans.

TODD: Thias Watts is just standing there. Towering, unmoving, a seven-foot freak of nature.

Summer throws the first shot. She sprints toward Reggie and nails a running high knee to his chest, smashing him into a bar stool. Reggie flails, taking down a nearby cocktail table in the process.

TODD: The crowd is eating this up!

BAMA: Aaaaaaaand Thias still hasn’t moved. Still as a statute…

Summer turns to him with a smirk. She rushes Thias with a Chick Kick aimed high, but he catches her leg mid-air and hurls her like a sack of designer trash into a booth. Glass shatters and people scatter.

TODD: Summer seems dazed, Jimmy.

BAMA: She looks fine, but she’s not lookin’ WELL, if you catch my drift, Toddrick.

Reggie launches himself off a pool table, nailing a diving crossbody that finally sends the giant Thias Watts stumbling backward, crashing through a high-top table and snapping it clean. Reggie is on fire, screaming, punching, shadowboxing the air, whipping the crowd into a frenzy. He grabs a dartboard off the wall and frisbees it at Thias. WHAP! It hits the big man right in the neck.

BAMA: Thias shrugs that off like a mosquito bite!

TODD: That’s a big man, doing big man things!

Reggie tries a springboard DDT off the side of the bar, but Thias catches him in mid-air like a ragdoll. Thias Gorilla Presses Reggie into the air... and TOSSES HIM OVER THE BAR COUNTER into a rack of liquor bottles.

BAMA: NOT THE LIQUOR!

Thias turns, still breathing slow, it took a lot to throw Reggie like that. Summer Page is already back running across the bar stools. She dives! Tornado DDT to Thias into a bar table! The table doesn't break. It just buckles, making the impact even worse. She rolls off, wincing but fired up. Summer grabs a pool cue and jams the end of it into Reggie’s ribs as he tries to climb back over the bar, knocking him back down.

TODD: Reggie’s down!

BAMA: Summer seems to be comfy as a fox as the henhouse!

Summer points to the crowd, cocky as always. She tries for another strike, but Reggie grabs a bar rag soaked in whiskey and chucks it in her face. The distraction works, Reggie vaults over the bar again and catches Summer with a side suplex onto the bar floor.

BAMA: Spoke too soon, Todd! Is it time for Reggie Estrada to steal another victory?!?

Reggie goes to follow up but Thias is back and he’s pissed. He grabs a full bar stool and throws it like a missile, clocking Reggie in the back and dropping him face-first to the ground. Thias walks over, lifts Reggie with both hands like a parent scolding a toddler, and smashes his head against the bar. Reggie collapses like a dropped sack of bricks.

TODD: That had to hurt.

BAMA: Thank ya kindly, Captain Obvious.

Thias turns toward Summer, who’s crawling up using the bar to pull herself up. He charges like a bull but she moves! CRASH! Thias runs straight into the wall behind the bar, splitting the drywall and shaking the whole damn saloon. Summer pounces, dragging a broken pool cue across his throat while wrenching his arm behind him.

BAMA: That was ugly, mean, and one hundred percent Summer Page.

TODD: OH NO, WATCH OUT!

WHACK!

Reggie blindsides Summer with a kendo stick, ripping it across her back and then across Thias' chest. Reggie turns the stick and jabs it down onto Summer's spine, then leaps from the bar top with a senton across both of them!

BAMA: Bodies are everywhere.

The camera pans over a destroyed dartboard, shattered glass, and splinters of a pool cue still stuck in the drywall. A crowd of sweaty bikers chants “HOLY SHIT!” as Reggie Estrada stands tall on top of the bar, shadowboxing again, face half-lit by a flickering neon “Coors Light” sign.

TODD: I won’t lie, that does look pretty cool.

He leaps off with a Flying Elbow Drop aimed at Thias but the giant catches him mid-air, deadlift style, and spikes him into the hardwood with a thunderous release German suplex! Reggie flips, crashes, and skids through a puddle of beer and blood. Thias stalks forward, calm but dangerous, like a slasher villain in slow motion. Thais eyes lock on Summer, who’s just gotten to her feet using the broken jukebox for support. Thais charges.

BAMA: BIG BOOT!

TODD: No! Summer ducks.

Thias’ boot shatters the jukebox. Summer pops behind him, Tilt-a-Whirl into a Russian Leg Sweep, using Thias’ own momentum to drive him across a beer pong table, which buckles but doesn’t break. She backs up and adjusts her bra strap. Summer grabs a bar tray and frisbees it like a discus into Reggie’s skull as he starts to rise.


CLANG!


She stalks him down and grabs a handful of hair, dragging him near a dart table. Reggie shoves her off, then throws a handful of darts at her feet, like throwing down tacks. Summer instinctively hops up, and Reggie lets loose a Superkick to her in mid-air!

BAMA: WHAT A SUPER KICK! I LOVE SUPER KICKS!

Summer flips over a table, crashing into a biker chick’s lap. The woman cheers and spills her drink all over Summer's chest.

Reggie delivers the ol’ Haliburton choke at the pile of broken table and crumpled Page.

BAMA: I don’t know what’s come over Reggie Estrada, but when he delivers that taunt, he is LOCKED IN!

Reggie doesn’t waste a moment, grabbing a nearby fire extinguisher off the wall and BLASTS Thias with a cloud of white chemicals. Thias stumbles blindly.

TODD: Thias looks like he’s in trouble.


WHACK!


BAMA: He’s definitely in trouble now!


REG-KO! Reggie hits the RKO-style cutter onto a broken barstool frame!



1!


2!


Summer dives in and breaks it up with a code red, flipping Reggie off of Thias and into a pile of chairs. Breathing heavy and smeared with sweat, beer, and a little blood. She grabs a stool leg, wraps it in barbed wire someone left as décor, and begins wailing on Reggie’s back. Each strike draws welts and swelling.

TODD: Can you hear Reggie screaming in pain?

BAMA: Who can’t?

Thias rises again, slow and terrifying, blood trickling from a gash in his scalp. Summer swings the barbed leg, Thias blocks it with his forearm and CHOKESLAMS her into a booth, snapping the seat in half. He pulls her out of the wreckage by her arm like a child’s doll and sets up for the 3rd Ward Drop. Irish Whip into a support column, Summer slams spine-first into it.


TODD: Spine first into that beam!

BAMA: Summer is going to have a hard time walking tomorrow.


BIG SPLASH.


TODD: How often do you see a big man do that?!

BAMA: Thais Watts makes it look easy, that’s for sure!

He lifts her up... just as he sets for the Head-Out Tombstone, Reggie charges in with a BRICK and SMASHES Thias in the back of the knee! Thias drops to one leg, losing the hold. Reggie climbs the bar again.

BASHIN STUNNA!!!

From the bar top, down onto Thias’ neck! Thias is dazed, barely conscious. Reggie goes for the cover but there's no ref. It’s a bar. The crowd counts anyway.


1!


2! 


BAMA: Not this time!

TODD: This is unbelievable! Thais kicked out of a crowd counting the pin! Ever the showman!

Page pulls a tap handle off the bar and blasts Reggie with a fountain of stale IPA, blinding him long enough to grab a bottle, smash it over his head, and plant him with the "1999" Impaler DDT onto the floor.

TODD: That’ll do it if she can make the cover!

Page leans down to make the cov-

FLASH! Bright floodlights flood the bar, blinding everyone inside, except the bartender, they've got thick black sunglasses, allowing them to see perfectly fine.

TODD: I’m blinded, I can’t see! What’s going on?!?

After 20 seconds the lights are killed and in the middle of the three competitors, stands a large masked man. On the mask is the face of Cheems the Shiba Inu meme dog, but instead of normal Shiba Inu coloration, it's colored black with big stacks of hundreds plastered all over it.

The man pulls off the mask, revealing none other than Mr. Oz!

Thias looks at Oz, remembering his former tag teammate putting him out of action for a long time, having a shocked appearance on his face as Oz scans the three. He tosses the mask to the ground, and immediately turns his sights onto Summer Page as Thias starts pummeling Reggie, Oz begins throwing large haymakers straight into Summer's face until he picks her up, arms cradling her so her stomach is against his, only for him to pick her up into a gorilla press hold, then throwing her straight into and through the bar's wall to the outside! The force of which makes Summer's outline look like it's straight from the cartoons!

TODD: What the HELL! Oz has thrust himself into this match and he and Thias are wrecking Reggie and Summer!

BAMA: No disqualifications, Toddy! Bringing a buddy to a bar brawl is fair game and Thias Watts is old friends with one of the meanest sumbitches on Anarchy! Mister Oz!

Oz then goes to help Thias by picking him up by the legs, and starts swinging him around like a Olympic Hammer Thrower getting ready to throw, only for him to lift Reggie higher and Thias delivers a MASSIVE big boot to the man's dome, knocking Reggie out!

TODD: What a maneuver!

Amidst that giant swing big boot, Thais lands atop Reggie! The crowd counts because that’s how this match works!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

WINNER: THIAS WATTS


TODD: What a robbery!

BAMA: What in-gen-yoo-ity, Toddrick! Thais Watts brought himself a dance partner and they cleaned the floor of Thias’ solo opponents!

TODD: Wait, now it looks like the Money Titans might throw hands between each other!

Now with the two massive men made of muscle standing toe to toe, it looks like they're about to throw hands, to finish their years long beef…

Only for Oswald to dap Thias up, as if he's Cyclops dapping up Ryu from the Street Fighter x Marvel games before pulling each other close and smacking each other on the back.

TODD: Ah, spoke too soon.

He looks to the carnage they have among them, seeing Thias's opponents starting to stir, gaining some ability to regain their composure as Oswald nods to Thias, as words are whispered, "I have my own thing later. You got this?" come from him with Thias nodding as Oswald picks up his mask and walks away to go to his very expensive and highly pimped out RV to get ready for his match.

TODD: The Money Titans! Reunited! The entire Anarchy Tag division just got put on notice!

[Image: wireline.png]

The camera pans across of a sea of leather jackets, denim, beards and bad ass Tattoos. Thousands of motorcycles are rumbling. American flags wave high above chrome.



The PA speakers are hit with the sound of a badass Harley revving, this goes on for a few moments and then stops and suddenly “One for the money by escape the fate” hits the speakers. The camera cuts to a wide shot just as a stunning gold and chrome custom motorcycle rides through into the rally. Justin York sits atop the bike wearing designer shades, a fit leather jacket, denim and shoes that are so expensive they shouldn’t even be around burning rubber.

York rides around the ring several times before stopping and tossing his shades to some biker chick who quickly fires them back at him and begins hurling insults.

He climbs off of his bike and up onto the ring apron and takes in all the hate whilst simultaneously posing. He gets into the ring and demands a microphone and is handed one.

“I’m willing to bet that none of you meth smoking morons thought you’d see a real star show up to this skid mark get together did ya?! The second longest reigning Revolution Champion right under your filthy noses..”

He spits on the canvas as the crowd boo’s, some even hurl a beer bottle that he dodges.

“Don’t take it personal Sturgis. I didn’t come out here to judge your loud ass motorcycles, your crooked teeth or your poor life choices. I came here for only one reason.”

York saunters over to the ropes and leans against them.

“THAD FUCKIN’ DUKE.”

The crowd pops. That name always draws a reaction.

“I find it rather funny that the XWF looks at you like you have royal blood pumping in your veins but you don’t have enough of a spine to accept the challenge that’s been laid before you. I issued the challenge at last Anarchy, at bedlam 8, I even laid it out in a language you can understand, pride, money and legacy on the line and yet you pop up and say a few goofy words, have me attacked and slither back under your rock!”

BAMA: York just dropped the throttle, brother. That ain’t a challenge, that’s a damn dare!

TODD: He’s not just calling Thad out — he’s painting a picture of a man ducking the spotlight. Pride, legacy, and brand loyalty all on the table? That’s combustible.

“You are lionheart remember? Stand tall for this company that you apparently love so damn much. Stop ducking the challenge you cowardly piece of shit. You and me one on one, your 4 vs my 4, Valor against XWF. This is officially the third time I’ve presented this before you, are you man enough? Pick the date, the time, the place and we will show up and burn your fucking house down.”

York sits on the top turnbuckle and awaits Thad's arrival but gets nothing.

“That’s what I thought, sit back there in your comfort zone hiding behind whatever stale ass legacy you have left, you and your BI—“

”Yorkie, Yorkie, Yorkie…”

Thad pops through the Pryce Position onto the stage to pops and a roar of motorcycles.

”You run your mouth about legacies and royal blood… tell me one thing you've built. Tell me one time you've put the good of others over your own selfish wants and needs.”

Yorkie goes to speak but Thad shuts him down.

”People around here treat me like I have royal blood… because when it comes to the XWF, I do have royal blood. See, for half of this company's existence, it was built, and rebuilt three times over off the back of a man named Duke.

“You really don't like hearing the word ‘no.’

“I'll think about the four on four, but Yorkie… you versus me doesn't interest me even a little bit.”

Thad says not another word as he drops the mic and disappears back behind the curtain.

TODD: What a shot across the bow! York called him out again and again, but Thad just made it crystal clear: he’s not biting.

BAMA: Nah, but he’s thinkin’. You heard him, Todd. That four-on-four’s not off the table. Thad just wants to make York wait... and maybe sweat.

TODD: One thing’s for sure, this isn’t over. The war lines are drawn, but the battlefield’s still up for grabs. Up next we’re taking you out to the Bike Boneyard… so stay tuned!

[Image: wireline.png]



TODD: Uh… folks, I’ve been in this business a long time, and I’ve seen some unsettling entrances… but this is something else entirely.

BAMA: Lord have mercy, that’s a woman possessed. Look at her — she’s got the devil in one hand and a paintbrush in the other!

“Dreams of a Lullaby” plays, and as her music swells, Celestine stumbles onto the scrapyard, dragging a massive canvas behind her. Her body jerks unnaturally as though seized by a spirit, shades of a possession. She begins speed-painting in a frenzy, daubing wild strokes with brushes, bare hands, and even blown snot from her nose. She growls, chants, sometimes laughing, sometimes weeping. By the time she reaches the center of the yard, the canvas is revealed: a horrific foretelling of her opponent mangled, ruined, disfigured. She lays the painting gently against the ring like a tombstone.

TODD: That’s either the most disturbing omen I’ve seen in a while… or a hell of a way to win Best in Show at the county fair.

BAMA: Ain’t no county fair I’ve ever been to that had entrails in the watercolor, Todd.



The lights flicker, as the anxiety-inducing first few chords of Dies Irae erupt across the speakers. As all lights center to the top of the stage, creating a path of light down to the ring. Fans erupt into screams as The Inquisitor walks out onto the scrapyard — clad in his leather trench-coat, gloved hands in and full-black getup.

The eye-rings around his mask glint in the light, and you can almost feel him smile through it.

Throwing his arms out to his side, and his head in the air, he breathes in the sweet sound of fear and adoration. His hands jerk to grasp their opposite shoulders, in a self-hug of sorts. Giving himself a quick squeeze, he runs his hands along his shoulders and across his throat like blades before turning to face his opponent.

TODD: The stage is set. The scrapyard’s cursed ground tonight. You can feel it in your teeth.

BAMA: A haunted artist versus a masked executioner… ain’t nobody walking out clean.

TODD: It’s time. Celestine Gale versus The Inquisitor. This is the Bike Boneyard Match!


BIKE BONEYARD MATCH

CELESTINE GALE
- vs -
INQUISITION

Last Person Standing Rules


TODD: Welcome back to Anarchy!

BAMA: Boy oh boy am I ready this one, baby!

TODD: Who wouldn’t be!? We’re in a scrap yard for crying out loud! With two scrappers, ready to begin their quests of chasing down some metal on Anarchy!

BAMA: Chasing metal? Did you even watch these two promos this week, Todd? Celestine Gale and Inquisition are chasing nothing but blood here tonight, baby!

TODD: Holy macaroni!

BAMA: Holy macarena!

TODD: …I feel like we’ve lost the plot here partner.

BAMA: Well of course we have, Todd, we’re in a goddamn scrapyard for crying out loud!

TODD: As crazy as it may seem, Bama, this might be the most apropos between these two, because the only way you can win? By burying your opponent under a heap of old motorcycle parts.

BAMA: Ap-pro-pro? I don’t speak I-talian, Moschitti!

TODD: Would you just shut up and go with it, please?

We hear the grinding of metal, as the camera pans through the dirt and around a heap of trashed car parts. We see the enigmatic Inquisition, donning his spooky mask. He’s dragging a piece of a car exhaust along the heap of scrap metal… he looks ready to do some serious damage here tonight.

Off in the distance, Celestine Gale appears. She’s completely unfazed by this menacing atmosphere. Despite being undersized compared to Inquisition, her cold glare makes her appear to stand even feet above the mounds of trash and scrap metal.

TODD: We heard the trading of barbs up to this point between these two. Inquisition is ready to learn everything he can about Gale, all the way down to the meat and bone, and Gale? She’s ready to break the facade of yet another competitor who dares cross her.

With only feet between them now, the two rush one another. Inq swings wildly with the broken piece of exhaust, hurdling right at Gale’s head! Luckily for her, she’s able to narrowly avoid jumping backward. This seems to throw Inq off a bit, as Gale’s expression is happily dark, and brooding. She lunges right back at him with an elbow to the skull. Inq eats the blow while simultaneously swinging the piece of exhaust again, cracking Gale in the arm. It’s obvious that she felt the damage by the look on her face, but a part of you wonders if she didn’t sort of like the pain.

The elbow strike causes Inq to drop the exhaust pipe.

Inquisition grabs her suddenly and hoists her overhead in a display of strength—he spins and plants her into a pile of rusted gears and fenders with Charon’s Consecration! The full-body impact rattles the scrap heap, and Gale is left coughing, stunned, surrounded by jagged steel like a twisted halo.

He rolls off her and clutches his ribs. The referee approaches cautiously, then raises one hand to begin a count.

ONE!

Gale’s fingers twitch.

TWO!

She breathes sharply through her teeth.

THREE!

Inquisition drags himself upright using a bent fender for leverage.

FOUR!

Gale’s eyes snap open, rage and madness dancing in the whites.

FIVE!

She begins to sit up, trembling but furious.

SIX!

Both are on their knees now, glaring at one another like broken saints.

SEVEN!

They rise, nearly in sync, snarling as if pulled up by strings from beneath the scrapyard floor.

The count is waved off.

Inquisition stumbles to the edge of the yard, his boots crunching over bone-dry gravel.

His eyes scan the heaping walls of scrap around him until they fall upon the crane, the large magnet dangling. Inquisition hobbles over to the crane with a slight limp.

BAMA: Oh he ain’t planning on what I think he’s planning, baby!

TODD: He’s going to bury Gale… Possibly for good!

Before reaching the control booth, he passes a wrecked trike. Without hesitation, he yanks a steel chain from its sidecar like it’s a serpent coiled for battle, then climbs the ladder to the crane’s cabin.

Inside, he settles into the dusty control seat, gripping the levers with fingers like vices. He moves the crane to the right, and a large pile of scrap latches onto the magnet as he slowly begins to move it over Gale’s body...

But she’s gone!

Inquisition hesitates at the controls before a hand is wrapped around the back of his head and smashes his face into the glass of the booth!

BAMA: Celestine that spider monkey! How’d she get the jump on Inq like that?

TODD: Black magics one can assume.

The glass cracks once under the attack.

Dazed, Inquisition shakes his head but Gale throws him forward again and his head crashes through the glass!

Shards stab into Inquisition’s mask as he pushes himself through the glass and crawls out onto the hood of the crane.

Celestine follows, dragging a rusted hubcap and a long steel rod with her like she’s preparing to paint something terrible on the canvas of Inquisition’s back. Her body is coated in dirt and sweat, her dress in tatters, but there’s a strange elegance to her madness—like a cursed ballerina in the wreckage of war.

She raises the hubcap over her head and slams it across Inquisition’s back with a clang that echoes through the scrapyard. Inquisition growls, trying to rise, but Gale stabs the steel rod between his shoulder blades like she’s pinning a butterfly to a collector’s board.

TODD: I don’t know what hurts more—the impact or the intention behind it!

BAMA: That woman’s painting a masterpiece of pain, baby!

Inquisition surges up anyway, his raw strength lifting both himself and Gale with a guttural scream. He backs up blindly, crashing her into the boom of the crane. Gale collapses, limp… or so it seems.

The referee immediately begins a new count.

ONE!

Neither moves.

TWO!

Inquisition leans against the boom, breathing heavily.

THREE!

Gale's hand flutters against the grit.

FOUR!

Inquisition turns, bleeding from his mask.

FIVE!

Gale rolls onto her side, eyes locked on the dangling chain.

SIX!

She begins to rise, inch by inch.

SEVEN!

Inquisition limps to the chain as well—both struggling.

EIGHT!

Gale stands. The referee waves off the count again.

Inquisition stumbles forward toward the edge of the crane, his fingers gripping the dangling chain like a lifeline. He glares down at Gale and gives a final, primal roar. With the chain in hand, he lifts it high over his head and brings it down in a sharp, deliberate arc—but Gale rolls aside at the last possible second, and the chain loops up and around the thick magnet above them!

There’s a moment of silence. Then, with predatory grace, Celestine rises behind him.
With a sharp twist, she yanks the chain and the dangling motorcycle breaks loose from its tension.

BOOM!

The motorcycle comes crashing down from above like a falling god of steel and fire… right onto Inquisition!

He vanishes beneath the wreckage.

BAMA: HOLY SHITFIRE, TODD! SHE JUST VAN GOGH’D HIM INTO NEXT WEEK!

TODD: That might be the most brutal thing we’ve ever seen in the Biker Boneyard!

Celestine kneels next to the heap of twisted chrome, blood, and ruin. She reaches into her torn gown and pulls out a tiny paintbrush dipped in black ink.

With ritualistic grace, she paints a crescent moon symbol on the bent gas tank of the fallen motorcycle—marking her work. Then she stands tall above it all, arms outstretched like the final frame of a gothic oil painting.

The referee, stunned, begins the final count.

ONE!

No movement.

TWO! THREE! FOUR!

Not a sound from under the motorcycle.

FIVE! SIX! SEVEN!

The scrapyard seems to hold its breath.

EIGHT! NINE! TEN!

The referee signals for the bell.

WINNER: CELESTINE GALE


TODD: Celestine Gale has done it. She’s buried Inquisition literally and metaphorically beneath the weight of this match!

BAMA: And she didn’t just win… she signed it, Todd. Like any true artist.

TODD: What an incredible, unforgettable debut by Gale. But hey, hats off to Inquisition as well. He had a tough uphill battle to climb. The truth may yet be inquired!

[Image: wireline.png]



TODD: Up next we have a new take on a classic strap match. We’re trading out the strap for a 12 foot length of biker chain!

BAMA: I don’t know this Jimmy guy that well, but something tells me he wouldn’t volunteer to take either competitors place in a match this brutal.

TODD: Oh, he’s a huge choad. Very unlike Atty and Bliz. Like the opposite. Absolutely terrible.

BAMA: Oof.

The honeyed rasp of Atara's voice blares over the facility's PA in unison with those words appearing on the multitude of screens and displays littering the arena.

HELLO DOVES

The crowd pops and gets to their feet shouting in near total unison a single word.

OPA!

Arena lights start to pulse in time with the music and multiple vertical streams of pyro erupt across the front of stage. Strutting with purpose, Atara emerges from the back taking spot centerstage atop the ramp. Posing for the camera, a wink and kiss is given to the viewers at home.

Grunge walking to the ringsteps, she climbs and stops at the top to posture again for her adoring public. Hand on her hip, the Grecian moves to the middle of the apron to blows a final kiss to the camera and enters the ring through the middle rope.

BAMA T: Now that’s an entrance with some sizzle. Ain’t nobody in the back got that kind of fanfare and footwork, Todd.

TODD: Atara’s got the crowd in the palm of her hand—and she may need every ounce of that energy tonight.



The opening guitar riff the Deftones’ “Kimdracula” hits the arena speakers as multicolored lights pour over the crowd. The lights slowly rotate color in a mesmerizing, psychedelic fashion as the camera pans over the excited crowd. They stand and cheer, partially excited to be on television but also excited because they know that this music signifies that they’re about to be in the presence of an XWF Legend.

Our view shifts to the entrance walkway, which is now blocked by a large pane of glass. On the glass, a name is painted:

AIDAN COLLINS

The viewer only has a moment to take in the glass before the glass explodes towards the camera as a foot kicks through and explodes the whole display!

The crowd erupts in a huge pop. Aidan Collins is here!

Aidan Collins–wearing navy blue trunks and boots adorned with his Infinity Crown logo in gold–takes a second to pose towards the camera before he winks and walks down towards the ring. As he walks, he high fives the crowd and vocalizes outwardly that he’s about to put on a hell of a show for the audience.

Aidan walks up the ring steps and walks down the apron to the center of the ring. He points out to the crowd before folding his arms in front of himself, giving the crowd ample time to pop off photos with their cell phones.

Aidan enters the ring through the middle rope. He shakes the ring official’s hand, now ready for the contest to begin.

TODD: There he is. Aidan Collins, with a legacy that spans two decades and more than a few shattered expectations.

BAMA T: I’ll tell ya what, Todd: this one’s gonna hurt, no matter who wins. They ain’t fightin’ ‘cause they hate each other. They’re fightin’ ‘cause Jimmy Stars made ‘em.

TODD: And neither one plans to walk out lookin’ weak. Chain’s just the setting. The real story is right here in the ring.

The chain clinks ominously as it’s latched to the wrists of Atara Raven and Aiden Collins by the referee. No theatrics. No pageantry. Just one final look—mutual recognition, not malice. They both know what kind of storm they’re walking into.


BIKER CHAIN BRAWL

ATARA RAVEN
- vs -
AIDEN COLLINS

Strap Match Rules


TODD: There’s no love lost between these two tonight, folks, but there’s a hell of a lot of respect on the line!

BAMA T: Ain’t that the truth, Todd. This one’s personal without bein’ bitter. They ain’t enemies, just professionals with a job to do. And that job involves a big ol’ steel chain.

DING DING DING

Atara strikes first. She wraps the chain around her forearm and charges in with a hard elbow that rocks Aiden into the corner. She follows up with a flurry of body shots—precise, targeted, fast. Then she whips him toward the opposite buckle, but the chain jerks taut midway. Atara stumbles forward off-balance.

Aiden doesn’t waste the moment. He yanks her back and levels her with a vicious lariat! The chain snaps across her stomach as she hits the canvas with a thud.

BAMA T: That chain ain’t just decoration, Todd. It’s a weapon and a leash, all at once.

TODD: The kind of leash that reminds you you’re never out of reach.

Aiden scrambles up and starts for the first turnbuckle. He touches ONE… but Atara cuts him off, kicking his leg out from under him.

She climbs to her feet and hits a smooth belly-to-back suplex, flowing right into a leg grapevine. She drives her elbow into his knee repeatedly, softening the joint. Then, without hesitation, she transitions into a banana split submission—Aphrodite’s Duality!

BAMA T: She’s goin’ for it early! That’ll stretch a man six ways to Sunday, Todd!

TODD: And in a match like this, every second in a hold like that feels twice as long.

Aiden grits his teeth and headbutts his way free, rattled but still fighting. Atara pops up, answers with a stinging slap across his face. The crowd erupts—OPA!

She twirls to her feet and throws in a Hasapiko step, dancing just enough to taunt.

But it costs her.

Aiden ducks, yanks the chain, and sends her over the top rope. The chain catches—she dangles, feet barely touching the apron. He reels her back in with brute strength and slams her with a modified Olympic Slam across the chain!

A beat passes. Then Aiden starts for the corners.

ONE… TWO…

Atara twists, sweeps his legs, and slaps the mat to keep herself grounded. The count resets.

TODD: This match punishes hesitation. And it punishes momentum even more.

BAMA T: These two been tied to Raven for years, figuratively. Now it’s literal. Poetic as hell.

Atara lashes the chain across Aiden’s back with a loud snap! The crowd winces in unison. She drags him toward the corner and whips him into the steel post. Then she lines him up, sprints in with the Judgement of Paris—a knee to the jaw that lands like a shotgun blast.

Aiden crumples.

Atara turns to the corners. ONE… TWO… THREE…

She lunges, reaching for the fourth.

Aiden yanks the chain tight and pulls her off her feet! The chain wraps around her torso, and she slams hard into the final corner, spine-first.

Aiden’s on her before she can react. Chain-wrapped punches to the gut and ribs. He runs the ropes and comes back with a devastating Hell’s Kaleidoscope, the chain trailing like a whip behind the discus lariat.

Both go down.

BAMA T: Hell’s Kaleidoscope hits like a freight train. You see stars, regrets, maybe even your tax guy.

TODD: You see the next life, Bama, and it don’t come with padding.

Aiden pulls himself up slowly. His breathing is labored now. His body, bruised. He yanks the chain and drags Atara up.

He touches ONE… TWO… THREE…

But Atara isn’t finished. One last surge—Priapus Punch!

Right between the uprights.

BAMA T: Straight to the… well, we’ll call it the Achilles groin, Todd.

TODD: That’s got to be illegal!

BAMA T: Not in this kind of fight. Just bad manners.

Aiden buckles. He doesn’t fall.

He roars, swings wide, and clobbers Atara with a spinning lariat that folds her like paper.

Both lie on the mat, unmoving for a beat. Then Aiden crawls.

ONE… TWO… THREE…

He stops.

Looks back.

She’s still down.

FOUR.

The bell rings.

WINNER: AIDEN COLLINS


There’s a moment of quiet. A pause. Then applause. Then cheers. Not for the outcome—but for the battle.

The referee raises Aiden’s hand, but he brushes it aside. Instead, he kneels beside Atara and helps her up. She’s dazed, but conscious. She takes his hand and rises.

No hug. No raised arms. Just eye contact.

They nod.

And the crowd chants together:

“OPA! OPA! OPA!”

BAMA T: That’s the kind of match that don’t need a title. Don’t even need a winner.

TODD: Just two people giving everything they had. Scars traded. Respect earned. And maybe now… maybe just a little peace between friends-

Aidan Collins and Atara Raven are in the ring after a grueling strap match. Both of them are gathering their bearings when suddenly...

"Dethrone" by Bad Omens plays throughout the Knuckle Saloon Parking Lot. Then out from the entrance way, it's Solomon Kline. Clad in black leather pants, black Doc Marten's and a black cowboy style shirt, complete with a black bandana over his face and a black Stetson hat, he rides in on his brand new blue Harley Davidson motorcycle. He rides the bike toward the ring slowly, then drives around the ring once at ringside, allowing the fans in attendance to take it all in. He parks the bike at ringside on the ramp side of the ring, gets off and heads into the ring. He sees his Tribe partner and Atara, still breathing heavily from their match. He removes the hat and bandana and places them in the corner of the ring. He starts slow clapping and then, he motions for a microphone.

Solomon Kline: Bravo, you two. Aidan, good to see you mixing it up on Anarchy. Can't wait to kick the American Storm's asses with you come Warfare and give us a chance at those tag team championships.

He looks over at his shoulder, no longer bearing the weight of the X-Treme championship that was ever present when he was champion. He then looks at Atara, who is slowly making it to her feet.

SK: You see, my shoulder is feeling a bit light and it doesn't feel right. Another championship would fit nicely there. Atara, I gotta hand it to you. That is how you fight a friend. Some people...*cough* Oz...*cough* should take notes. Now I'm not just here to sing your praises. I'm here to inform you that, this wasn't just a match...it was an initiation.

The crowd cheers. Solomon continues.

SK: You see, historically, the Tribe has always had room for Ravens and with the Black Rainbow, The Corporation, various Revolutions...we need all the allies we can get. So, I'm not asking you to give us an answer right now, but please, consider this a formal offer to join the Tribe.

Solomon grabs his things from the corner, nods to Aidan Collins and makes his way out of the ring, where he rides his motorcycle off into the sunset and presumably, right out of Sturgis altogether.

[Image: wireline.png]

XWF STUDIOS


*'Micheal Graves', wearing his green Dark Warrior mask and tights, takes the seat across from Steve. He stretches his neck, side-to-side, comfortable on a TV set after decades wrestling in front of cameras.*

Around the pair, the crew gets setup, lights get hung, microphone rapidly get sound-checked, the director of the segment carefully checks each camera angle to verify focus.

Sayors glances off to the side, clearly receiving the all-clear from the producer.

“Folks, I’m here with Anarchy champion, ‘Micheal Graves’! One of the most electric, unpredictable men in the entire XWF! I… uh… I’m nervous because this is quite a scoop your favorite newsman is on top of… But, I’m also terrified of being maimed!”

Sayors eyes ‘Graves’, hoping for some reassurance that that won’t happen.

”...” ‘Graves’ eventually weaves his hand through the air, like ‘keep going…’

Sayors nervously clears his throat, before flipping the page on his clipboard…

“Well, first of all—congratulations. As of today, you’ve been Anarchy champion… 319 days! Two days longer than Crucible’s Tag Title reign, which makes yours the Longest reign of the XWF’s modern era At Leap of Faith, you defeated ‘The Tactilizing One’ Larry Tact in what many are calling an instant classic. What was the key to victory that night? And—if I can ask—what does it mean to you to step into the record books as not only the longest Anarchy champion, but longest reigning champion… ever?

Sayors’ eyes dart, watching Graves for any sign of irritation. His left hand is hovering near his lapel mic like he might instinctively rip it off and sprint at the first sign of danger.

…

Graves' sits back, letting his eyes drift to the ceiling as he ponders that question.

"Tact’s a killer." 'Graves' finally concludes, bringing his eyes back to Steve's. "He's been a world champion. A Hall of Famer. We'd wrestled a little earlier this year and I won then, too. But, I came off that match knowing he was just finding his footing in the XWF. It felt like I got an appetizer before a main course that was gonna knock me on my ass. Getting to face him at his best? The biggest challenge of my reign thus far, and I'm proud to say I managed to catch one of the greatest chain wrestlers in the business in my Fujiwara Armbar and score the submission."

"In terms of stepping into the record books..." 'Graves' exhales, really digesting that question. "I think that was all that mattered to me when I first got started. I leapt straight from a hole-in-the-wall gym in Battle Creek, Michigan, straight to the XWF.”

”Wait, Mister Graves.” Sayors checks his notes. ”Aren’t you from… HoboTown originally?”

…

”HoboTown is a suburb near Battle Creek.”

”Ah, sorry, go on.”

“And I started late... most of the young guns now are guys in their early 20s... I debuted in the XWF at..." 'Graves' does some math in his head. "33? And I had a chip on my shoulder about it. I felt I needed to check every box, to do what no one had ever done before or it would have all been a waste."

"Now?" 'Graves' lets his nostrils flare, somberly recollecting where he came from and the man he used to be. "I've been lucky enough to do this for thirteen years. Most people don't make it to year thirteen in this business. Almost nobody makes it to 46 and still manages to actively compete at the level I'm getting to." 'Graves' tries to delicately unwrap the question.

"I feel lucky in some ways. In other ways, like I don't know how it happened. I know it could end tomorrow and I'm pushing my luck every time I get in the ring. But, I'm taking it one match at a time. At one time, I…”

…’Graves’ grins, pausing.

”Er, f***, sorry, my buddy, Mark Flynn…”

…’Graves’ eyes dart upwards.

”Did I just get bleeped?”

”...Algorithm stuff, profanity tends to filter search results, diminishing views…”

…’Graves’ shrugs…

”When HE was Universal champion… He promised the world he'd be the longest-reigning Universal champion in XWF history, that it'd last forever and... heheh, that didn't work out.”

“Point being, I'm honored to have the record of longest Anarchy champion… given the caliber of talent that Anarchy has to offer, but I have no delusions about being a permanent champion. Some day, this belt will be somebody else's and they'll have the honor of representing the best Thursday Night wrestling has to offer and..." 'Graves' grins thinking to himself. "I don't know what I’ll do after that. I guess we'll see."

…Steve coughs. ”Most… electrifying man in the XWF…”

‘Graves’ reaches down for the coffee cup by his side. ”Can I keep this?”

…Sayors squints. ”...The cup?”

…

”That’s… That’s really not my department, but maybe someone can…” Sayors reaches for a production person. ”Can… um… Mister ‘Graves’ kee-”

When Sayors turns back, ‘Graves’ is looking at him attentively awaiting the next question.

…The cup is gone.

…Sayors shuffles his cue cards, trying to keep his hands from shaking too obviously.

“You’ve been—well—instrumental in spearheading the conversation around labor rights in pro wrestling. You’ve advocated for injury protocols, post-match concussion screenings, fairer treatment for talent. You’ve called out the brass more than once for how they handle things behind the curtain.”

“But—Graves—this is also coming from a man who, earlier in his career, made a name by injuring people. By ending careers. You used to list them in your promos”

He lets that truth sit for a moment.

“Do you see this as… a redemption arc? A reckoning? How do you reconcile the Dark Warrior who took pride in devastation with the advocate who now demands a safer workplace for the next generation?”

*He inches back in his chair—just a bit.

"...Heheheheheheheheh. FUUUUUUU***." 'Graves' bellows. The sound people skitter nervously, narrowly catching the censor button.

…

‘Graves’ eyes the teammate, finger hovering over the button, ready to catch profanity…

"Great question, Stevengelical..."

…

"...I don't think there's redemption for what I've done."

…

"I don't think any amount of what I do know can correct the score..." There’s a twinge of manic-ness in ‘Graves’ eyes as he ponders this issue. "You know, the Ancient Egyptians thought when you died, the weight of your soul would be weighed against a feather. A FEATHER, STEVEN."

"...I don't know about you, Steve. I imagine your 'sins' are mostly taking other people’s parking spaces…”

…Sayors blushes. ”It’s an employee lot! I’m an employee! I should be allowed to park there!”

“But I worked up a soul heavier than a feather… even before I made it to the XWF…. Being here… that’s probably enough feathers to make a life-size Pillow Fort Knox "

…

"...It's not about that though.” 'Graves' scratches his nose. “If I was out here to atone, to scrub my name clean, I'd know it was a doomed mission...."

"At this point, I know I've got fewer years left than what I've put into this business. I just want to leave it better than how I came into it.”

…

”...My pal, Mark Flynn, has a near-two-year-old now. I don't know if he'd ever get in the ring... But the idea of him having to do what I did... or, God, even worse, dealing with the 'Micheal Graves' of the 2040s when he's the age to do this? ...I can't protect him physically then, I'll be knocking on 60... I can just try to make it a little better for everybody and hope it reaches him.”


…For a second—just a second—Steve looks like he’s about to cry.

“…That’s… that’s real, Graves. And I—uh—thank you for trusting me—and trusting the fans—with that.”

…Sayors stands up, and moves arms extended toward ‘Graves’.

”The HELL you doing, Steve?” ‘Graves’ raises his arms like he’s rearing to defend himself.

”Oh, uh…” Sayors clears his throat sitting back down. ”Was going in for a… *ahem* hug, misread the moment…”

”Yes, you did.”

…Sayors fumbles through his cards again…

“Now, uh, speaking of leaving the business better than you found it… at Leap of Faith, not only did you retain your title and extend your historic reign, but your fellow pro-labor advocate and long-time ally, Dolly Waters, finally reached the pinnacle—capturing her first Universal Championship.”

“What did that moment mean to you pers-”

"F***." 'Graves''s eyes light on fire with the mention of Dolly. The sound team rushes to bleep the live feed... "DID YOU SEE THAT SHIT?"

'Graves''s arms weaves through the air, punching through his hand. "RUNNING WATERS." 'Graves' drops an elbow on his own leg! "ELBOW DROP! F***!"

The sound people catch the curse live and manage to bleep it….

‘Graves’ eyes trace the wire from the censor button… running beside his seat…

Sayors nods, happy he’s asked a question that ‘Graves’ seems excited by. “Y-yeah, I did see that, actually! I—uh—stood up and cheered! From a safe distance! Like... twelve rows up.”

‘Graves’ beams proudly, taking another sip of coffee…

"That was... the culmination of a lifetime of work." 'Graves' rubs his nose. "Dolly has been wrestling in form or another since she was seven years old. She went from youth phenom to guaranteed first-ballot XWF Hall of Legends resident..." 'Graves' breathes. "To being constantly on the injured list. To being called overrated and a bust. I've been lucky enough to work with Dolly for years now. I know just how much pure talent she had in her. So, to see her win the big one after all that? It felt... like justice. She's 22 and it's easy to paint it like she lucked into it, but she's worked harder and sacrificed more than anybody I know."

…

“But, with you holding the Anarchy title… AND Dolly holding the TOP belt… is this more than just personal triumphs? Are we seeing a new era—a kind of... labor-first, wrestler-driven power shift in the XWF?”

Sayors eyebrows lift just slightly.

…

‘Graves’ waves the question off. "The movement's the movement, y'know? People might have more eyes on it. But, it's not the sort of thing you can make happen by winning a wrestling match. It takes time and it takes dedicated effort in the face of a million moneymen the industry over trying to stop it. Does Dolly winning the Universal title mean the Revolution has won and all of the wrestling industry’s problems are solved overnight?”

“No."

…

"...Was it the greatest thing that's happened in the wrestling world?" 'Graves' grins ear-to-ear... "Maybe. Top three in my book." ‘Graves’ holds up three fingers.

“Now, if I may—Graves, you did mention the ‘moneymen.’ The forces in this industry that fight change tooth and nail. And that actually brings me to…”

He hesitates. He knows he’s about to step into the minefield. He steps anyway.

“…the burning. The merch. The DVDs of your own matches, even. That was… well, I guess ‘symbolic’ would be an understatement.”

“A lot of fans were shocked. And executives were FURIOUS. Graves, you’ve said you’re pushing back against the over-commercialization of wrestling… but what’s the alternative? If a company can’t own its content, if merch is ‘tainted’—how is a promotion supposed to survive? How do you keep the lights on without selling the spectacle?”

…

… ‘Graves’ doesn’t look at the ceiling for the answer to this one. He looks Steve dead in the eye.

“Why do you think they frame it like that, Stevil?”

”...Uh…Sorry, ‘they’?”

“Like, *I* want the industry to collapse? Like I’m asking for the F***ING moon on a string, when I want BASIC. DIGNITY. For wrestlers.”

“Do you know much the average wrestling ticket to an XWF show runs the customer? $70? $80?”

“You know how much of that goes in the roster’s pocket? SIX DOLLARS. Split FORTY-SOME-ODD WAYS, Steavis!”

”...Uh… sorry. Let’s time-out so the team can fact-check th-”

“…And when I point that out, the industry acts like I’m public enemy #1.”

“Micheal Graves’ is a commie”

“‘Micheal Graves’ want to gut promotions..”

”Well, it’s a fair question, Mister Graves! You’re asking these companies to profit-share with their talent, but… These promotions are struggling! Some of them are dying!”

‘Graves’ jams a finger at Steve. “Get this down on the record, Sayors. If your company has to degrade and BURN through talent to stay alive?”

…’Graves’ SMASHES the cup toward the floor…

Liquid and porcelain cause sparks on the wire!

”Your company SHOULD FUCKING DIE.” The sound peoplesmash the button… But nothing happens!

…

“Why’d I burn those DVDs, Steve? That was the question, Mister William Randolph FUCKING HEARST? Why would I burn DVDs with my own matches on them?”

…

“So they’d stay mine.”

“The XWF wanted to take three hours of my blood, sweat, and vomit in that ring and put a price tag on it to shove in a gas station DVD pile next to a hanging rack of Slim Jim’s? They wanted to feed a lifetime through the algorithm and let robots designed to enslave our attention convert my mission to fix the mistakes I’ve made into POISON designed to CORRUPT the MASSES”

“FUCK that and FUCK anyone who says otherwise. If the shareholders would starve paying the talent their fair share? They should FUCKING starve.”

”I’ve seen guys on the Indy circuit skip meals so they can stretch out a $50 check working a high school gym, excuse me if I’m not worried about Sammy Shareholder making the payments on yacht #3.”

”Well, I think… I mean, YES, we should try to pay talent their fair share…”

”Ohhhhhh, it’s ‘WE’ now! You and the CEOs, Steve! ONE AND THE SAME!” ‘Graves’ leaps out of his chair and scoops Sayors up his collar!

The entire crew scatters in a panic, terrified of what ‘Graves’ might do…

”Oh God! Oh, please don’t hurt me, Graves! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

…

‘Graves’ drops Sayors to the ground…

…

And walks out of the studio.

SLAMMING the door… behind him…

…

Sayors nervously crawls back into his chair, straightening his tie.

”...Thank you… Micheal Graves… for being on the program… Now, if you’d like my perspective on the Anarchy champion’s views… I belie-”

SPARK! The lights go out in the studio.

[Image: wireline.png]



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 a makeshift ramp towards the circle of motorcycles, while the bottom of his white cloak drags along the ground. Once inside the center of the circle, he de-cloaked himself, placing it in on the motorcycle 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 Mighty OZ, making his way through the parking lot! Undefeated in recent months, Oswald has been tearing up every name they put in front of him on Anarchy. And that is why he is now #8 in the XWF ELO rankings!

Bama T: Damn straight, Todd! I know I haven’t been on Anarchy for a while, but even I know how dominant Oz has been on Thursday nights! At this point, I think it’s safe to say the myth of Oswald precedes him, everywhere he goes!



Full black.

The stage alights in red. Smoke gathers around the circle of motorcycles. 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 makeshift stage and takes in the mixed reaction from the crowd. He shakes his head and shoulders and begins to walk down the ramp, hands still in prayer pose. 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 before he reaches the circle of motorcycles. He outstretches his arms as he enters the circle, rolling backward over a motorcycle and spinning toward the center of the circle, arms outstretched like a helicopter. He then sits, cross legged in the dead center of the circle, 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 every motorcycle in the circle suddenly roars, and revs to life!

TODD: 36 is coming out tonight to get some revenge on Oz for the events that transpired at Leap of Faith! Remember, Oz and 36 were supposed to square off against Them No Good Bastards for the tag-titles, but instead, Oz left 36 hanging! And now, they’ve got a score to settle!

BAMA T: Look at this FREAK! Wearing a mask, cutting the lights off, and then sitting cross-legged in the circle like some sorta’ schoolchild! No wonder Oz didn’t want to work with this guy at Leap of Faith!

TODD: Well you’ve gotta remember, Bama, that even without Oz: 36 was able to defeat T.N.G.B.!

BAMA T: That was by disqualification, Todd! That doesn’t count as a victory!

TODD: It counts on the ELO rankings, though!

BAMA T: Well, let’s see how tough he is when he has to face Oz 1-on-1 in a parking lot brawl!



PATCH-IN CO-MAIN

MR. OZ
- vs -
XXXVI

Revo #1 Contendership Parking Lot Brawl


DING! DING! DING!

The match starts inside the motorcycle circle, and XXXVI wastes no time in taking the fight to the big man! Oz and XXXVI exchange a flurry of blows in the center of the ring, but despite XXXVI’s tenacity, Oz begins to get the upperhand! Standing 8 inches taller and over a hundred pounds heavier, Oz has an immense advantage in the head-to-head bareknuckle brawl. Oz starts hammering XXXVI in the head relentlessly, causing the smaller man to stumble around the motorcycle circle aimlessly! The restless bikers cheer on the carnage as Oz begins to gain advantage.

BAMA T: Oz is giving that masked freak a WHOOPIN’! And those bikers are LOVING IT!

TODD: You’re not wrong, Bama! I think a parking lot brawl is playing to all of Oz’s strengths, and none of 36’s!

Oz grabs XXXVI, punching him in the gut before grabbing a hold of his tights and lifting him high into the air. Oz parades around the motorcycle circle with XXXVI suspended in mid-air, caught in a suplex position! Oz bears a devilish grin as he shows off his immense strength to the biker gangs in attendance…but XXXVI wriggles free before Oz can drop him! The smaller man escapes from Oz’s grasp, landing on his feet directly behind Oz.

And when Oz turns around….

SUPERKICK!

XXXVI’s foot connects with Oz’s jaw like a heat-seeking missile! Oz’s body goes flying against the motorcycles forming a circle in the parking lot, and blood starts dripping out of Oz’s mouth! Oz reaches up and touches the blood with his hand, inspecting it with his eyes before bearing a sinister grin in XXXVI’s direction. Oz pushes himself up off the motorcycles and roars, begging XXXVI to come try it again!

AND XXXVI does!


AND IT WORKS!

The smaller man charges at the expectant Oz. Oz throws a haymaker at the spot he thinks XXXVI is going to be…but the smaller man spins out of the way- AND COMES BACK AROUND WITH A SPINNING BACKFIST TO OZ’S FACE!

Oz goes flying over the top of the bikes, and out of the circle!

TODD: 36 has taken the momentum back in this one!

BAMA T: But let’s see how long he can hold onto it, Todd!

Oz groans as he brings a hand up to his bruised head, clearly disoriented from the force of the backfist. But XXXVI isn’t wasting any time tonight! The masked man climbs atop a motorcycle, raising his arms to the sky in a ritualistic motion before leaping off the bike and onto Oz with A MOONSAULT!!!!

THE BIKERS GO BIKE-WILD AS XXXVI MAKES THE PIN!


1!








2!!





KICKOUT!!!!


Oz throws a shoulder up just in time, but XXXVI gets right back to work. As Oz lay on the ground, the masked man begins working Oz’s lower body with a Boston Crab attempt! XXXVI cranks and wrenches upon Oz’s lower back, but Oz’s cries of pain are drowned out by the noise of the rowdy biker gangs. XXXVI tries to crank that Boston Crab as much as he can…but Oz is too big, too strong! After nearly a minute trapped inside the Boston Crab, Oz is able to wrangle his legs free, and kick XXXVI right off of him!

TODD: Excellent work from Oswald escaping that submission attempt! Usually Oz struggles to get out of submission holds, but he refuses to tap out here tonight!

BAMA T: Oz won’t give that weirdo the pleasure of making him submit!

Oz pushes himself back up, and XXXVI does the same. Now outside the circle, the one-time tag partners start squaring off once more! Oz goes in for a clothesline, but XXXVI ducks, and fires back with a quick uppercut! Oz reaches out and tries to grab a hold of XXXVI for a big move, but the masked man is too wily and quick! Oz just can’t seem to get his hands on him!

The pair fight through the parking lot, and past crowds of rowdy bikers. XXXVI starts to gain the upper hand with his quickness and agility, but Oz is an unstoppable object who just keeps moving forward, even if he is a few steps behind the masked man! By the time Oz finally gets a good grip on XXXVI, the pair have fought all the way to the other side of the lot- where a slew of trash cans are waiting for pick-up!

Oz grabs XXXVI by the scruff of his neck and pulls him back for a big move…but XXXVI has a the lid of a trash can in his hands, and he smacks Oz right across the face with it!

And again!


And again!

After the trash can lid has been fully dented and rendered inoperable, XXXVI drops the lid onto the ground. Then, he kicks a woozy Oz in the gut, causing the big man to keel over with disorientated pain! Then, XXXVI hits Oz with a


GERMAN SUPLEX ONTO THE TRASH LID!


XXXVI covers Oswald for the pin!



1!







2!!





KICKOUT!!!!!


TODD: Oz just won’t stay down!

BAMA T: I think that freak might need to try that move 36 more times if he wants to beat Oz!

XXXVI pushes himself back to standing, then he starts delivering a few boots to his grounded opponent. Rowdy bikers look on with beers in their hands, screaming for a ‘CURB STOMP!’. XXXVI turns back and looks at the bikers, and as he nods, you could almost swear you saw a grin under his mask!

XXXVI drags Oswald’s body over towards the curb in the parking lot, setting the big man’s teeth upon it…

BAMA T: Hey, someone stop that guy! He’s about to ruin Oswald’s billion-dollar smile!

TODD: I hate seeing this level of brutality as much as the next person, Bama, but this match is no-DQ! That means anything goes, even real-life, actual, literal curb stomps!

With Oswald’s face laying flat on the curb, XXXVI takes a few steps back…then he charges in before jumping high into the air, lifting both his leg for a leaping double curb stomp!

BUT OZ ROLLS OUT OF THE WAY JUST IN TIME!

XXXVI’s feet slam down on the pavement without any cushioning! The ligaments in his legs hyper-extend, almost popping out from beneath the skin as the leaping double curb stomp lands against nothing but concrete!

TODD: BY GOD! I’m going to be sick…I think we just saw his ACL -POP-, live on our screens!

BAMA T: Oh Todd! A little ACL tear ain’t nothin’ to our top-notch XWF talent- but if Oz is lucky, it might be enough to slow down 36!

As Oz lurches back to his feet, XXXVI cradles his legs in pain. Sensing an opportunity, Oswald approaches the masked man with a pissed off expression. Once Oz gets close, he begins laying in the beating of a lifetime. Big boots, big elbows, and big damage are unloaded onto XXXVI with little to no remorse from the big man! Oswald grabs XXXVI by his mask with one hand, while beating the hell out of him with the other! As XXXVI struggles to free himself from the giant’s grasp, Oswald starts dragging him back towards the circle of motorcycles.

XXXVI fights like a wolverine caught in a trap, but it’s no use! Oswald isn’t letting him go! Eventually, Oswald and XXXVI get back to the outside of the motorcycle circle. Oswald headbutts XXXVI, temporarily dimming the masked man’s lights- then, Oswald throws XXXVI back into the circle with a vicious hip toss! XXXVI lands in the center of the circle, his body smacking off the pavement with a sickening thud. Oswald steps over a motorcycle, following XXXVI at an admittedly slow pace.

BAMA T: Now that this match is back inside the circle, Oswald has complete and total control! He brought 36’s speed and quickness to a grinding halt, and now the behemoth has that masked freak right where he wants him!

TODD: Not so fast, Bama! It doesn’t look like 36 is out of this one quite yet!

Just as Oswald crosses over the final bike and enters the circle, XXXVI suddenly surges to his feet—limping, dazed, but far from finished. The crowd of bikers roars as he throws a wild forearm that catches Oz on the jaw!

Oz reels, stunned for just a second—enough time for XXXVI to leap up onto the gas tank of a nearby chopper.

BAMA T: Wait… wait, what’s that lunatic doing!?

TODD: He can barely stand and now he’s climbing steel!? This can’t be smart!

XXXVI steadies himself atop the motorcycle, every muscle twitching with effort. With a final breath… he launches into the sky—twisting through the air in a spiraling arc…

THE TEETH OF GOD!!

His body spins perfectly through the night air before coming CRASHING down onto Oswald’s chest with devastating force!

TODD: THE TEETH OF GOD! THAT’S GOTTA BE IT!

BAMA T: I CAN’T EVEN SPELL SPIRAL TAP BUT I JUST SAW THE BEST ONE IN MY LIFE, BABY!

XXXVI hooks the leg, the circle of motorcycles buzzing with noise.

1!

2!!

3!!!

DING! DING! DING!


WINNER: XXXVI


BAMA T: That masked maniac just tore through Oz like a rusty muffler!

TODD: He risked everything with that Spiral Tap—and it paid off. The Teeth of God bites deep tonight on Anarchy!

BAMA T: And I’ll be DAMNED if that wasn’t worth the price of admission alone!

TODD: That means that no matter who wins the main event tonight, they’re going to have a new challenger in XXXVI!

[Image: wireline.png]



The opening riff of The hangman's body count by Volbeat starts to play throughout The Knuckles Saloon as the lights dim. Several red and purple laser lights envelope the stage as Matthias Syn casually walks through the curtain. As he steps onto the stage, he stops and acknowledges the crowd by stretching both arms forward while touching his balled up fists together. After several seconds he begins to nonchalantly walk down the ramp towards the ring, not allowing the fans to touch him. He slides under the bottom chain, jumps to his feet and poses on the steel chains. As he drops down from the chains he takes off his red leather shearling coat, hands it to the ring girl and sits on the studded turnbuckle awaiting his opponent.

BAMA T: It’s the Syn City Saint, Matthias Syn! He made headlines last Warfare for his vicious attack and post-match burial of Corey Black. That’s when Matthias Syn told the whole world that he was joining THE CORPORATION, and tonight is his first match repping his new gang colors!

TODD: That’s right, Bama! But it won’t be his first match fighting for the Revolution Championship! In fact, Matthias Syn already held that very belt for 252 consecutive days! And in tonight’s Main Event, he goes to war for the Revolution Championship once more- but this time, he’s doing it in service to the company!



Twenty midgets with sparkers in both hands held as high as their little arms can reach, line both sides of the entrance ramp. Thunder Knuckles walks out with his Revolution Championship over his shoulder, his Anarchy Tag Championship around his waist, and an arrogant smile emblazoned on his face. The sparkers ignite as he walks past the midgets. Once Thunder Knuckles is down to the ring he rolls under the bottom chain of steel and in one movement he pops up to his feet. With his back turned towards the camera, he raises his right fist in defiance. As soon as his fist goes up, counterfeit XBUX with Thunder Knuckles' face on them falls onto the crowd.

BAMA T: Now that's how a double-champion make an entrance!

TODD: If you're a total jerk, I guess!

BAMA T: Bastard, Todd, he's a Bastard! And tonight, he’s fighting to retain that championship belt on behalf of Bastards everywhere!

TODD: But the Syn City Saint isn’t going to make it easy for him!

BAMA T: Good! Bastards prefer it rough!




REVOLUTION CHAMPIONSHIP
THUNDER KNUCKLE SALOON MATCH

THUNDER KNUCKLES ©
- vs -
MATTHIAS SYN

Steel Chain Ring Ropes/Studded Leather Turnbuckle Pads


DING! DING! DING!

TK saunters out of his corner, cocky as ever. Once the double-champion reaches the center of the ring, he invites Matthias Syn out for a test of strength. The Syn City Saint cocks his head to the side and bears a grin. Syn strolls out of his corner and meets TK in the center of the ring, where TK is waiting with his hand raised. Syn raises a hand of his own, as if he’s about to meet TK’s challenge….

BUT BOTH MEN HAD OTHER IDEAS!

Both TK and Syn try to sneakily kick each other in the balls, but their boots just collide with each other!

TK looks at Syn like he just committed a war crime, and Syn looks back at TK with dead-eyed disdain.

The referee just sighs and shakes his head, because he knows he’s in for a long night with these two hooligans!

BAMA T: Thunder Knuckles can’t believe it! The Syn City Saint just snubbed his nose up at TK’s challenge, and tried to sneak in a dirty shot!

TODD: But Thunder Knuckles tried to do the EXACT same thing!

BAMA T: That’s the champion’s prerogative, Todd! Matthias Syn of all people should know that!

TK looks furious, and he charges right at Syn! TK goes for a lariat, but Syn ducks under it! Syn darts towards the ropes – but THEY’RE STEEL CHAINS!- so Syn doesn’t ‘bounce off’ the ropes, instead, Syn collapses to the mat as he practically whips his own back with the steel!

TK chuckles to himself as he sees Syn trying to rise back up to a standing position. TK charges forward with a punt kick, but Matthias Syn sees it coming, and moves out of the way just in time! Instead of punting Syn’s face, TK’s foot connects directly with the STUDDED LEATHER at full force!

TK immediately backs away after the punt to the corner, clutching his foot in pain!

TODD: This ring is a death-trap, Bama! It’s doing more damage to our competitors than they are!

BAMA T: Who the hell designed this ring?! Steel chains instead of ropes?! Studded leather instead of turnbuckle pads?!

TODD: I think the answer would be “Jimmy Stars”, Bama!

TK and Syn both took a minute to recoup their ring-inflicted injuries, then they reset in new corners. Syn stretches his back with a grimace on his face, but after a brief recovery period, he’s ready to get back in there. In the opposite corner, TK is nursing his injured foot, but when he senses the vibrations on the mat from Syn’s rapid charge, TK looks up and sees Syn barreling straight at him! TK rolls out of the way as Syn tries to go for a SPLASH onto the STUDDED LEATHER-

But after TK rolls out of the way, Syn catches himself on the chains, placing his feet on the second level and his hands on the top chain! From his perched position in the corner, Syn glances over his shoulder briefly, where he spots TK limping on his bad foot. That’s when Syn leaps off the chains, and catches TK with a coffin body drop!

Both men spill onto the canvass, but TK bares the brunt of the fall! One of Syn’s elbows collides with TK’s forehead on the landing, splitting it wide open! Blood gushes out of the double-champ like a geyser!

TODD: What a smooth recovery from The Syn City Saint! It looked like he was about go barreling full-speed into the Studded Leather corner, but he caught himself on the chains, and then coffin dropped off the chains! That’s expert level technique!

BAMA T: Off the chain?! You’re damn right this match is off the chain, Todd! It’s Syn vs Knucks’ for the Revolution Championship!

Syn gets up to his feet first, and he immediately charges TK’s way, kicking the double-champion in the ribs and preventing him from rising! Matthias Syn chuckles to himself as TK groans in pain from the blow. Then, Syn grabs TK by his collar, lifting him up to his feet, and then Irish whipping him right into the STUDDED LEATHER CORNER!

TK bounces off the corner with a loud thud, the blood from his gushing wound staining the makeshift turnbuckle. As TK stumbles out of the leather clad corner, Syn follows up with a swinging snap DDT that rattles the entire ring! But Syn’s offense doesn’t end there. Syn quickly follows up by grabbing TK once more, delivering a stiff elbow to his jaw that spins TK around,  and then Syn lifts him high into the air with a German Suplex!

Syn holds TK’s shoulders to the mat for the cover!



1!






KICKOUT!!!!





BAMA T: It’s going to take a lot more than a German Suplex to put Thunder Knuckles away!

TODD: You don’t need to egg Matthias on, Bama! The Syn City Saint’s offense has been relentless so far tonight, the last thing we need is for him to take it up yet another notch!

BAMA T: What do you mean ‘last thing we need’? That’s EXACTLY what we need! These bikers came here for carnage, and it’s on these two to deliver it!

Matthias Syn puts on a devious smirk as he looks down at the back of TK’s head with wicked intentions. The crowd cheers on the bloodshed as Matthias Syn circles the slow-moving body of his downed opponent. After stalking the champion like a predator, Matthias Syn goes in for a curb stomp…but TK rolls out of the ring right before it can connect!

TODD: Quick thinking from the champion, getting out of the way of that curb stomp!

BAMA T: He needs to stop thinking, and start FIGHTING if he wants to hang onto that belt tonight!

TK takes a second to gather himself, wiping a grotesque amount of blood from his brow as Matthias Syn eyes him from inside the ring. Then, Matthias sprints towards the edge of the ring, and leaps over the top chain with a FLYING LEG LARIAT!

BUT THUNDER KNUCKLES SEES IT COMING!

SO MATTHIAS SYN FLIES RIGHT INTO….

A SUPER-KICK!

The crowd chants ‘HOLY SHIT!’ as both men collapse outside the ring.

Thunder Knuckles goes for the pin!

But the referee doesn’t even attempt to count it! The referee never even leaves the ring!

TODD: That’s a miscalculation from Thunder Knuckles! While this match is No Disqualifications, it is NOT falls count anywhere!

BAMA T: What a crock of shit! This is the Thunder Knuckles Saloon, but you’re telling me Thunder Knuckles can’t pin someone outside that bologna ring IN HIS OWN SALOON?!

TODD: Yes, Bama! That is what I am telling you! I didn’t make the rules, I just get paid to announce them!

Thunder Knuckles doesn’t realize the pin isn’t being counted, so after a handful of seconds he rises to a standing position and raises his arms victoriously. TK then gets all up in Syn’s face, dripping blood down onto him, telling him to ‘SUCK IT!’ while making a very inappropriate gesture towards his crotch.

BAMA T: Well, someone had better tell TK that, because he thinks he just won this match!

As Thunder Knuckles taunts in the face of Matthias Syn, The Syn City Saint’s eyes suddenly spring wide-open!

SYN PULLS TK DOWN TO THE GROUND FOR A CRADLE PIN!

THE REFEREE HIGH-TAILS IT OUT OF THE RING SO THAT HE CAN MAKE THE COUNT!


1!







BAMA T: Wait, Todd, what’s happening?! You said this WAS NOT a falls count anywhere match!







2!!





Todd: Well I don’t know for sure Bama, but if you ask me, I’m guessing Corporate influence might have something to do with this total violation of fairness and integrity!














3-


NO!!!!


KICKOUT!!!!!



TK bursts out of the cradle just before the referee can count to 3!

TODD: The fix is in! The fix is in! That referee is working on behalf of The Corporation here tonight, and I think Thunder Knuckles is starting to realize it!

As TK rises to his feet, he looks between the referee and the Syn City Saint with disdain. Syn just flashes a devilishly good looking smile at him!

BAMA T: Thunder Knuckles isn’t just fighting Matthias Syn tonight: he’s fighting the entire corporate infrastructure of the XWF!

TK cusses out the referee before turning his attention back to Syn, the pair trading big punches outside the ring, much to the delight of the biker’s in the crowd! The gash across TK’s forehead grows far and wide as the duo duke it out across the saloon. But the Syn City Saint can’t stay bloodless for long, because TK grabs a half-empty beer bottle out of somebody’s hand, and smashes it against Syn’s face!

The bottle shatters into dozens of glass pieces atop Syn’s head, but TK hangs onto the shard that was once the bottle’s neck! Then, TK takes that shard and rams it into Syn’s skull, just above his ear! Syn cries out in horror as TK uses the glass shard to open up a giant red gash.

TODD: I know we said this match was No-Disqualifications, but even still, I think these men are taking it too far!

BAMA T: They’re leaving all their blood out there, putting everything on the line, to try and go home with the Revolution Championship! And these fans are lapping it all up like wild dogs!

TODD: Are they lapping up the blood, Bama?! Are people in the crowd licking up the blood?!

BAMA T: A biker has to do what a biker has to do, Todd! You know this!

Both Syn and TK leak all across the Saloon like a pair of freshly squeezed lemons while they brawl, except instead of lemon juice coating the floor, it’s blood pouring out from both men’s heads by the liter.

As the men finally get near the ring, Syn pushes TK away to create some space. As soon as there’s some distance between them, Matthias Syn lashes out with his own SUPER-KICK: but TK sweeps Syn’s other foot out from beneath him, causing Matthias to crash-land against the mats outside the ring!

Thunder Knuckles doesn’t waste time, instead, he wipes the blood from his brow and immediately goes to work on his downed opponent! TK unleashes a flurry of steel-toed kicks to his downed opponent, paying special attention to Syn’s head and torso! After TK has stomped Syn’s head into a metaphorical pulp, TK turns around and gives some attention to the steel steps that are connected to the ring.

As TK pulls the steel steps apart, Matthias Syn is on his hands and knees trying to crawl towards the apron. With the referee watching on helplessly, TK takes the steel steps and walks back towards the action. Then…




TK HITS THE REFEREE WITH THE STEPS!




The referee is completely knocked out cold, but TK throws the steps right atop him anyways, causing double the damage!

The crowd goes wild for the vicious assault on the referee as TK raises up an ‘X’ with his arms, indicating to the Producers backstage that this referee is unfit to carry on with the match.

TODD: That Bastard just took out the referee! Matthias Syn was right there, but he took out the referee instead!

BAMA T: Well, what’s the point of taking out Matthias Syn if the referee isn’t going to count for you?! TK knew he needed to get a different referee out here to win tonight, one who hadn’t been bribed! And the only way to do that, was with X-TREME VIOLENCE!

As TK finishes showboating for the crowd, he turns around to focus on Matthias Syn, but the Syn City Saint is no longer laying where TK last saw him!

Instead, Matthias is perched atop the steel chains of the ring! TK curses to himself as Syn leaps off the top chain, twirling his body through the air as he lands a perfect Somersault corkscrew Senton on TK!

Both men collapse to the mat, and the Syn City Saint goes for the pin!


But there’s no referee to count it!

TODD: Syn just hit the huge move, but that referee is still out cold!

BAMA T: Thunder Knuckles is such a genius, he’s not going to lose this match without playing every trick he has up his sleeve! No ref, no loss! It’s a perfect recipe for a title defense!

TODD: But how is he supposed to defend without an official?! How is this match supposed to end?!

BAMA T: Thunder Knuckles doesn’t need this match to -end-, Todd, he just needs to not lose it! For the last four years, Thunder Knuckles has been in an active match against Centurion that he still has not lost! And this match could become another one of his epic, year-long bouts!

TODD: Wait, does TK really have a match against Centurion from four years ago that’s still going on?

BAMA T: YES!

As the commentators debate the finer points of the TK vs Centurion ‘I Quit’ Match from years ago, Matthias Syn gets to his feet and realizes the referee is unavailable. Groaning in annoyance, Syn grabs TK by his hair, then he throws TK into the ring under the bottom chain. After TK is inside the ring, Syn walks over to the referee and removes the steel steps from his body before trying to wake him up.

But it’s no use- that dude is ASLEEP! Or quite possibly dead.

Syn sighs in disappointment with the referee before making his way towards the ringside announcer’s table. Matthias slowly walks up to the Revolution Championship, reaching out and caressing it gently. After a few seconds of golden tenderness, Syn grabs the belt and slides into the ring himself.

TODD: The Syn City Saint has the championship belt in-hand! TK had better watch out!

Syn slides under the bottom chain, then quickly pushes himself up to his feet with the belt ready to go. He sees TK, hunched over and bleeding, standing near the corner. Syn charges right at him with the belt! TK turns around, and…..



TK THROWS POCKET SAND IN SYN’S EYES!!!!



Syn drops the belt and claws at his eyes as TK bears a blood-borne grin. TK kicks Syn in the dick, before driving him down headfirst onto the belt with a DDT! Both men hit the mat and immediately collapse, completely worn out from tonight’s battle! TK doesn’t even think to pin Syn, he’s that out of it from the blood loss and headshots!

TODD: Both men are down, but there’s no referee! We’re in a predicament here, Bama’, and I’m not sure what the rules say we are supposed to do!

BAMA T: The rules say that the referee needs to get off his ass and do his job!

TODD: But he was knocked out by the steel steps!

BAMA T: That’s just an excuse, probably one that was made up for him by the Union!

TODD: Wait a second, Bama….who’s that coming down the ramp?!

The crowd parts as a figure in a black-and-white striped shirt comes jogging out from behind the curtain: a fresh referee, with his eyes locked on the chaos in the ring!

TODD: Finally! Someone’s here to restore some order!

BAMA T: Or at least count the damn pinfalls!

The new official slides into the ring as TK, still covered in blood, slowly crawls over towards Syn and makes the cover.


1!













2!!


























KICKOUT!!!!!


TODD: How in the hell did Syn kick out of that?!

BAMA T: Because Matthias Syn doesn’t stay down for anybody — not even a double-champion Bastard!

The crowd goes crazy as the match carries on! TK gets up to his knees, exhausted and heaving, as Syn slowly starts to stir. Syn crawls over towards the steel chains, using them to lift himself back to a standing position. Syn wipes the sand from his eyes and storms toward TK, trying to deliver a Shining Wizard to his kneeling opponent! But the Bastard explodes upwards with a stiff uppercut right to the jaw! Syn staggers backwards towards the chains!

Syn stumbles against the steel chains, bouncing off them with great pain, and stepping right into a scoop slam from TK! The shoddy ring shakes from the force of Syn’s violent landing!

TK walks over to Syn’s legs, picking up his right ankle as he gestures towards the crowd.

BAMA T: I think we all know what’s about to happen next, Todd!

TODD: The most devastating move in Sports Entertainment!

BAMA T: THUNDER STRIKE!

Thunder Knuckles delivers his patented foot DDT to Matthias Syn, then quickly mounts him for the pin! The new referee dives into position to count!



1!







2!!










3!!!



WINNER BY PINFALL AND STIIIIILLLLLLL REVOLUTION CHAMPION – THUNDER KNUCKLES


The crowd erupts as counterfeit XBUX with TK’s smug face shower the Knuckles Saloon. TK stumbles to his feet, a ringside assistant bringing him both of his championship belts as the new referee raises his hand in victory. TK then raises both the Revolution and Anarchy Tag Championships high in the air, blood streaking down his face as he soaks in the cheers of the rowdy biker gangs.

TODD: Against all odds, Thunder Knuckles has done it! The Bastard beats The Corporation at their own game!

BAMA T: That’s right! He fought the Syn City Saint, he fought The Corporate system, and he came out on top! Bastards rule the world tonight, Todd!

TODD: I’m afraid that’s all the time we have tonight, though, folks! The road to Relentless continues on… but it will lead us out of Sturgis. Where to? We’ll see in two weeks!

[Image: logo2-2.png]
Copyright © 2025 - The Xtreme Wrestling Federation - Established 1999
All Rights Reserved


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“Welp, can’t wait to see Black Rainbow dip that Harley in black goo next week!”

THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO CONTRIBUTED TO THIS SHOW!

MATCH WRITERS
THE PRINCIPLED PETER
JUMPING JACK BASH
THUNDER *ah ah ah ahhhh ah ah ahhhh ah*
IF I HAD A NICKLE
BARREL-AGED BOURBON

SEGMENT WRITERS
OZZFEST (rip)
KNUCKLES IF YOU BUCKLES
GRAVE MISTAKE
SERIOUS INCLINE
KING IN THE YORK

AND EVERYONE WHO RP’D!
]]> <![CDATA[INDEPENDENCE EVE ANARCHY - 7/3/25]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=49019 Thu, 03 Jul 2025 20:23:29 -0700 Jimmy Stars]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=49019
The limo driver steps out, slowly but surely, dressed like in a black butler’s suit. He walks back to the rear passenger door, before opening it to reveal….

CHARLIE NICKLES!

The Nickleman steps out of the limo in a full suit of his own, with polished dress shoes and slicked-back hair to boot! A bevy of diamond-studded rings rest on The Nickleman’s fingers, but the ‘BIG GOLD’ rests perfectly upon his shoulder. Charlie stands tall once he’s out of the limousine, taking in a deep breath of fresh air: and revealing his brand-new set of pearly whites in the process!

A moment later, the driver moves to the rear lift of the hummer and hits a button. Hydraulic whirring cuts through the ambient noise. The lift lowers slowly, revealing Peter Principle, sitting in a motorized wheelchair. His facial expression is frozen with a look of disdain, his face completely paralyzed since The Black Rainbow’s attack. A slight sliver of drool drips down Peter’s chin as his hand rests upon a silver service bell bolted to the wheelchair’s armrest.

Charlie walks over and gently places a hand on Peter’s shoulder, leaning forward and towering over the now disabled General Manager.

“You ready to get back to work, boss-man?”

‘DING!’

Peter rings the bell once as a sinister grin curls across The Nickleman’s lips.

Charlie waves away the limousine driver before he wheels Peter into the building himself. The camera follows behind them at a low angle as the hummer drives off, capturing only the click of Charlie’s newly polished shoes and the steady whir of Peter’s new chair.



INDEPENDENCE EVE
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07 - 03 - 2025

LIVE FROM THE MALL OF AMERICA

BLOOMINGTON, MINNESOTA



INDEPENDENCE EVE MINI-TOURNAMENT

MISTER OZ
- vs -
RAZOR BLADE
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX

Triple Threat
Winner faces Winner of XXXVI vs KEETON at Leap of Faith
For the Number One Contendership to the Revolution Title


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INDEPENDENCE EVE MINI-TOURNAMENT

XXXVI
- vs -
JC KEETON

Singles
Winner faces Winner of Opening Triple Threat at Leap of Faith
For the Number One Contendership to the Revolution Title


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BIRTHDAY WISH MATCH

XWF Xtreme Championship
SOLOMON KLINE ©
- vs -
TOMMY WISH

Both Solomon and Tommy must declare a match rules stipulation of their choosing in their promotional material. Will they get their wish? Jimmy makes the final decision!

Singles? Maybe?


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HARDCORE HEAVEN

FRANCES MARIGOLD
- vs -
MICHEAL GRAVES (CONCEIVABLY)

(Non-Title) Tables Match
An ominously large stack of tables will be set up precariously, suspiciously, in a spot where someone might get thrown from the second floor balcony for a dramatic finish!


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TWIN CITY CONTENDERSHIP MATCH
(Non-Title)

"KING" JUSTIN YORK w/ Any Active PWValor Superstar of his Choosing at Ringside
- vs -
THUNDER KNUCKLES w/ TNGB’s Bobby Bourbon at Ringside

Singles w/Valet
If Thunder Knuckles wins: Gains Future Revolution Championship Opportunity
If Justin York wins: Gains Future Anarchy Tag Team Championship Opportunity




STARS: I gotta change that…

TODD: Change what?

STARS: That damn intro music.

TODD: Why?

STARS: …you know why.

Plumes of Blue and White pyrotechnics shoot out from tubes around the makeshift entry ramp on the stage and mark the start of our show! On this momentous occasion, the XWF has returned to the iconic MALL OF AMERICA for this “Independence Eve” edition of Thursday Night ANARCHY!!! Hundreds of fans surround the ring in the Huntington Bank Rotunda, both on the ground floor and the surrounding walkways of the floors above. Even still, there are hundreds, nay, millions more who are watching and streaming LIVE from their homes!!!

As soon as the pyros finish, "Lithium" by Nirvana hits over the speakers, officially welcoming XWF fans to yet another edition of their favorite syndicated full-contact wrestling show, which we lovingly refer to as "The A-Show".

The Anarchy announce team is at ringside, preparing for a night filled with action!!  With "Lithium" still playing over the speakers the cameras pan around to those few lucky and avid members of the Anarchy faithful from all ages, races, creeds & colors screaming on the tops of their lungs, proudly wearing their XWF Merchandise and holding up signs for their favorite (or least favorite) stars:


CAUSE MAYBEEEEE

THE STROM. IS. COMING. TO. THE GREAT AMERICA MALL..

YOUR HOUSE IS A WRECKED MERCEDESSS

SUMMER PAGE VS MARISOL VILARO 4(EVER)

I COULDN’T AFFORD #PWV TIX - NEXT BEST THING

AND AFTER ALLLLLL

OSWALD AUTEM SEPHTIS IS MY SLEEP PARALYSIS DEMON

LIVE. ON. THE XWF. AT. THURSDAY NIGHT. ANARCHOEVE!

WHAT DOES THE JC STAND FOR KEETON? HUH?!

YOU LIKE YOUNGER BALLSSSSSSS

MICHEAL GRAVES FOR PRESIDENT WHITMORE IN INDEPENCE DAY REBOOT

JIMMY SUX! #BRING BACK BARRY

BOBBY BOURBON OWES ME A KIDNEY - AND NOT ONE OF TK’S


The fans both sitting and standing in this unique venue are murmuring and ready to get the five match card of XWF’s Anarchy underway! Many have been waiting patiently for the start of the show for quite a while, but on the periphery there are several hundred civilians just trying to enjoy a night at the nation’s largest mall, some of whom have never witnessed professional wrestling action in their entire miserable lives.

The hard cam pans around the Rotunda catching glimpses of the excitement and of the confused looks from the elderly couple who had just left The GAP moments prior.

TODD: Ladies and Gentlemen welcome to THURSDAY NIGHT ANARCHY! As always, I am your host Todd Moschitti, and alongside me is, what I hope isn’t becoming a trend, my new broadcast partner for the evening, our kinda esteemed general manager... Jimmy Stars.

STARS: Fuck you too, Todd.

TODD: Wow, so we’re going to start off the evening on the right foot, hmm?

STARS: You’re doing this on purpose.

TODD: Doing what on purpose?

STARS: You know the Mall of America rental contract has limited me to only using seven curse words for the entirety of tonight’s show. If we go over, I get a huge fine for ‘damaging their brand’ or whatever. As if Maiden Dixie is going to back out if I don’t clean up my act. This is total bullsh… crap!

TODD: And the problem is?

STARS: The problem is, I’ve already used one of my seven curses, and that’s entirely your fault!

TODD: I don’t see how that’s my problem.

STARS: How about I make it your damn problem? Wait… does damn count?

TODD: Yes.

STARS: Fuck!

TODD: That’s four.

STARS: FU-

Jimmy quickly covers up his microphone as he goes into a tirade.

TODD: Listen, while you have your little conniption off-mic, and preferably off-screen, I’d like to actually talk about the show you’ve put together for the fans here tonight. This one’s really leaning into the hardcore roots of the Xtreme Wrestling Federation and I’m looking forward to seeing how it’s all going to play out here.

STARS: It’s Independence Eve, baby. Tomorrow’s the fourth of July, but the fireworks are going to begin tonight! The Storm is coming to take on each other and Mister Oz in a triple threat match. And then JC Keeton is going to take on not 34, not 35, but 36 other competitors just to see if he can make it to the Leap of Faith final!

TODD: Well, no. JC Keeton is going to take on XXXVI.

STARS: That’s what I said.

TODD: But yes, the winners of the first two matches tonight will go on to face each other at Leap of Faith for the chance to be deemed the number one contender to the Revolution Championship.

STARS: Yes Sir. We’ve got to build the brand. Put some stakes on the line. Make our champions more vetted and have our championships feel earned. And this is how you do it: you gotta start by building the divisions individually. Being the number one contender is going to mean something after this mini-tournament. And I don’t care what 36, 37, or 38 says. Whoever earns this gets to write the fricken narrative. I only offer opportunities.

TODD: Yes. Between Latoya, Razor, Oz, JC, and XXXVI, only one can be the number one contender, and then what?

STARS: Then either the contender gets their shot or if someone else wants a shot at the Revolution title, they’ve got to go through the number one contender first AS IT SHOULD BE.

TODD: Is.. Is Peter Principle catching strays here?

STARS: NO?! Dear god man, absolutely not! Rest in Peace, Peter. I mean, get well soon. It’s 2025, you hate to see a man get waterboarded like that. I mean, I’m not here to judge. But do that kinda thing in private next time.

TODD: He was attacked by the Black Rainbow!

STARS: Sorry. I only caught the tail end of it. Wasn’t he trying to steal from the vending machine?

TODD: Ugh. No. You actually think Peter Principle used his face to break into the vending machine?

STARS: I mean, I wouldn’t have used my face. But the evidence was clearly there-

TODD: Then next we have the “Birthday Wish” match between Solomon Kline and Tommy Wish. Happy Birthday to the kid, by the way. How old is he?

STARS: Tommy? He ain’t no kid. He’s like at least 40 something.

TODD: No, It’s Solomon’s birthday.

STARS: OH! Then why the hell did I book a Birthday Wish match? His last name ain’t wish!

TODD: The good lord above couldn’t answer the question as to why you do things, Jimmy.

STARS: Anywho, yep. Gotta admit, you ain’t wrong about that. But I do promise you that I’ve taken their wishes under intense advisement, and after careful scrutiny, I have come up with a decision.

TODD: Which is?

STARS: That the match stipulation, will be-

TODD: Yeah?

STARS: Announced before the match.

TODD: …

STARS: But hey, good news, now it’s for the 24/7 Xtreme Title!

TODD: Fortunate, indeed, for the young Kline, who I believe is 27.

STARS: His name is 36. Not 27. And no, that’s not Kline under that mask. I’ve seen them both in catering together. Rules that out entirely.

TODD: I wasn’t saying that he’s literally XXXVI! I’m saying that he turned 27… oh, to hell with it.

STARS: Hell better not count against us. Hell is a place.

TODD: Sitting next to you is also a similar place. But after that match, whatever it may end up being, Hardcore Icon Frances Marigold will take on the Anarchy Champion Micheal Graves in a Hardcore Heaven match! I see you’ve got tables stacked up from here to the second floor already for that one.

STARS: You know how many unpaid interns we lost today to get that tower built?

TODD: Excuse me?

STARS: Too many.

TODD: …what do you mean by… lost?

STARS: The letters have already been mailed to their families, Todd. But if you ask me, how hard is it really to stack tables?

TODD: That’s… not very reassuring at all. I’d like to see you stack one table. One!

STARS: Whatever. I expect this match to go places, literally. They’re going to need to fight up to the second floor, at least, to win the match. So while hell IS a place, Heaven is also a place and it’s right here on the flat, hollow, planet disc Earth!

TODD: A fall from that height could kill a man, or at the very least seriously injure him and risk his entire career and way of life.

STARS: Rumor has it the day Frances was born the doctor accidentally dropped him out a fifth floor hospital window. He unironically likes Nirvana. He should be fine.

TODD: And our Anarchy Champion Micheal Graves?

STARS: He has plenty of goons to break his fall. Peter Parkour probably taught him how to ‘flip out of it’. That or the cat taught him how to land on his feet.

TODD: You can’t just… I can’t even… how is a man supposed to flip out of being driven down through a dozen or so tables to the concrete floor below?

STARS: Don’t.

TODD: What do you mean, don’t?

STARS: Don’t try to.

TODD: One of them has to take the fall, asshole!

STARS: YOU SON OF A BITCH! YOU’RE WASTING MY SEVEN CURSES YOU FUCK!

TODD: Who fucking cares about your fine? You won’t pay for it anyway! The XWF will pick up the tab for you AS PER USUAL.

STARS: True. Didn’t think about it like that. Fuckin’ gonna be a great night. I can fuckin’ feel it.

TODD: UGH. MOVING On- The main event has our Revolution Champion Justin York taking on one half of our Anarchy Tag Team Champions Thunder Knuckles in a self-proclaimed bucket-list match. Thunder Knuckles will have Bobby Bourbon in his corner… dare I ask who among the Pro Wrestling Valor roster will be in York’s corner?

STARS: No clue.

TODD: You’re the General Manager. What do you mean you don’t have a-

STARS: Hey listen. Double Moose is playing this one close to the chest. And I’m gonna let him. Cause at the end of the day, one of these guys is going to earn a shot to face the other for some stakes a little bit larger than what I could provide here tonight. And I’m fine with that.

TODD: The implications are huge. If York wins, I suppose he has to pick a partner to face Them No Good Bastards for a shot at the Anarchy Tag Team Championships.

STARS: Could it be… JC Keeton? Could it be… Thaddeus Duke?

TODD: No and no.

STARS: Could it be… the PWV superstar coming out as his muscle tonight?

TODD: Possibly. Which would only add fuel to the Valor takeover fire.

STARS: Ooh, that would be fun.

TODD: But if TK picks up the victory, that means he gets a future title opportunity at the Revolution Championship. And what does that mean?

STARS: That means Thunder Knux might get the match he wanted after all, of course. But with a new number one contender being named at Leap of Faith, I guess it depends on when TK can get that shot if it’s going to be a one on one or a triple threat.

TODD: That’s… that’s incredibly devious.

STARS: Oh, I’m aware. But the fans pay to see these fuckers beat the shit out of each other, and I’m more than fucking happy to oblige.

TODD: You’re definitely getting fined now.

STARS: Who gives a fuck? It’s fucking INDEPENDENCE EVE ANARCHY BABY!! LETS FUCKING GOOOOO!!!


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“One for the money” by Escape the Fate hits the sound system and the lights go dim. The fans are already booing and tossing garbage as they anticipate the arrival of the one and only Justin York.

TODD: Wait a minute. That’s Justin York’s music. He’s not set to come out until the main event later this evening.

STARS: That’s usually when Main Events do happen, Todd. Duh.

TODD: Whatever. All I’m saying is that, for some reason, the Revolution Champion is out here now, and I think it’s pretty safe to say that the XWF fans here in the Mall of America are not so happy to see him!

STARS: Well, I’m not happy to see them throwing their shit in my ring. That’s uncalled for!

A spotlight hits the top of the stage and he stands directly in it and before long the spotlight turns teal. He raises his arms and takes the crown off of his head and places it on the stage and then takes his signature maple leaf skull mask off and unsteady the Revolution title from his waist and holds it with one arm above his head and pyro explodes all over the set.

TODD: For once, I agree with you. It’s completely dangerous. Unsafe for the superstars and the fans sitting around the ring and-

STARS: Now I’ll have to pay the cleanup crew overtime!

TODD: …nevermind.

STARS: Don’t mention that fucking album’s name ever again.

TODD: Album? What are you talking about?

The lights come back on and York saunters down the stage paying no mind to any of the fans as he normally would. A bandage adorns his head and his ribs are taped up from the attack at PWV’s Ground Zero PPV by Cyrus Braddock.

TODD: I know Kieran King did a number on York and Shark two weeks ago. But I didn’t think it was that bad.

STARS: Tell me you haven’t watched PWV Ground Zero without telling me you haven’t watched PWV Ground Zero.

TODD: I don’t work for Pro Wrestling Valor, why should I?

STARS: Because they’re pulling out some AMAZING action, Todd! Because you’d KNOW what happened to OUR Revolution Champion Justin York if you DID watch it! AND because they’re a trusted sponsor of tonight’s broadcast! 

TODD: You mean to tell me-

STARS: That’s right! XWF Independence Eve Anarchy is brought to you by: PW Valor Ground Zero! Pre-order your digital copy today!

TODD: …

He climbs into the ring and is immediately handed a microphone.

TODD: …and now we’ve got to listen to him speak. Great.

STARS: Put some respect on our sponsor’s name!

York taps three times on the microphone before hollering into it.

JY: Cut the fucking music.

York hangs his title over the top rope.

JY: Straight to business. That nimrod King Kieran thought he was wise to take a shot at Shark and I while nobody was paying attention, what’s so kingly and royal about that? I digress, that’s for Shark to deal with.

TODD: Does Justin York have anything nice to say about anyone?

STARS: He’s nice to me!

TODD: That… makes sense, somehow.

STARS: Just like it’s really nice of Justin York to let James Shark handle Kieran King. What benevolence!

TODD: What horseshit.

JY: James Shark, I give you a round of applause, you put the nail in the coffin of this little rivalry we had and EARNED my respect, go kill Kieran and whoever you see fit! Maybe we’ll meet again one day but for now that chapter is closed.

TODD: That’s not for him to decide thou-

STARS: Shush!

York saunters around the ring and gives his head a scratch.

JY: That curly headed freak, Keeton thinks he’s all that and a fucking bag of potato chips because he beat a glorified John Blade. NOBODY and I mean nobody watches this program for YOU. Just offering a little reality check. Notice you’re at the bottom of the card and where I am? There’s a reason for that. Your match was over before I even arrived to the building. Who knows whether you won or lost tonight but the fact of the matter is this, you’ll fizzle out and disappear like you always do, it’s ingrained in you. It’s your identity.

York takes a seat on the top turnbuckle and taps on the microphone again. The crowd boos the shit out of him and for the first time in a moment he offers a grin.

JY: We’re still live, get fucking used to it. Cyrus Braddock, you big dumb shit. There’s truthfully nothing between your ears but air and opportunity. I’ll give you credit, you took your shot and hit. I’ll instantly discredit you for having balls the size of tic tacs because you don’t make a move without Thad’s blessing. A guy your size taking orders from that fucking toolbox? It tracks though. I’m not even gonna waste my time calling you out because I know for a fact you aren’t here as Thad tells you when to heel and when to fetch like a fucking golden retriever.

York chuckles to himself.

JY: What I’m really here to address and get off my back is the giant elephant in the room. You got me Thad, got me real good.

York touches the bandage on his head from the golden shovel shots as well as pats himself in the sternum where his ribs are firmly taped also from the same assault.

JY: What you’ve done in the process is prove what I’ve been saying since the very beginning. You refuse to fight your own battles, to answer any challenge that you aren’t certain that you can win and decisively. You know that isn’t the case here so you’re trying to tip the scales as far in your favor as possible. I can’t blame you, why would you want to tarnish your reputation by losing against a guy that you’ve talked down on for years and years.

TODD: So York is all messed up because Braddock attacked him on Ground Zero? And he did this under order of Thaddeus Duke?!

STARS: DUH! Get with the program, Todd!

JY: I’ve done just about everything that you couldn’t do, although I sound like I’m beating a dead horse, it's the truth. I’ve turned anarchy into a brand that is meaningful, not Bashmaster, not Jimbo, not Syn, nobody especially you and that’s for damn certain. 

STARS: HEY!

TODD: Hahaha. So much for him being nice to you.

STARS: …my name isn’t Jimbo dammit…

JY: I put it on my back since the day I walked in and turned this shithole around for the better while also offering an alternative for fans to tune into in the form of Pro Wrestling Valor. You’ve been nothing short of ungrateful, to me and to the fans that line yours and this company's pockets. You haven’t shown your face on anarchy in a blue moon. So I have a proposition that’ll not only appease these fans but will prove and give you the chance to show that you still have some sort of guys and courage left in your frail old body.

TODD: Oh, I don’t like the sound of this.

STARS: Let’s hear the man out first.

York hops off the turnbuckles and leans against the top rope facing the stage.

JY: Bring your ass down here and let’s fucking fight, man to man, one on one!

The crowd roars at the thought of Thad and York fighting right here tonight.

JY: Sure I have the main event to perform later tonight but I’m not gonna have ten seconds worth of trouble to whoop your ass all over this pathetic and filthy town. Unless of course you’re afraid of a battered and broken JY?

York grins as the crowd continues to boo his arrogance.

JY: Exactly what I thought, just like your puppy dog, you don’t have the SACK——

Thaddeus Duke, XWF COO and all the other things, steps through the curtain and to the entrance way without any pomp and circumstance to a loud roar from the XWF Universe.

TODD: OH MY GOD! THADDEUS DUKE IS HERE!

STARS: OH SHIT.

TODD: OUR COO! THE ONE AND ONLY THADDEUS DUKE!

STARS: I didn’t think he’d actually… shit shit shit-

TODD: JIMMY THIS IS- wait… Jimmy-

Todd looks up to see Jimmy’s headset bounce off of the announce table, and the back of a hoveround as it makes its way through the crowd and out into the mall at large.

TODD: Well, I guess Jimmy left us. Thank goodness!

TD: Are you done yet?

York goes to reply.

TD: Don't answer that dumbass, it's rhetorical.  For 3, maybe 4 years now, you've been suckin on my nuts tryna get my attention.

York goes to cut him off.

TD: Shut up, Yorkie. I'm not finished. Everytime you open your mouth, it's nothin but lies and half truths all the while you're callin me out to dance.

York goes to speak again but he's got a dead mic.

TODD: Thaddeus shut York’s microphone off! This night just keeps getting better and better!

TD: If you think tryna brand me as a coward or that I somehow fear you when a couple of years ago I dog walked you in about seven minutes at Denzel Porters Invitational, then my friend you got some wires crossed.

TODD: Now, I do remember that one. That match, perhaps the spark that ignited this entire feud, highlighted the differences between these two company figureheads. And yes, Thaddeus Duke absolutely destroyed Justin York. 

TD: Now, that said, I do owe you an apology.  Yorkie, I sent Cy Braddock to give you the attention your parents obviously never gave you as a puppy, but it was not my intention for him to put you in the hospital.

Simple minds sometimes fall off the rails.

See, you've been begging for my attention thinking that somehow you coming to Anarchy and becoming the star you wished you always were but never really had the talent to accomplish, is somehow offensive to me.

If it was up to me, everyone on this roster would thrive like you had been.

Your arrogant claims of being the reason Anarchy is as popular as it has grown has… honestly… something to do with you, I'll grant you that much, but not everything.  Anarchy is growing and thriving because I hired Bat Masterson.

TODD: Bashmaster?

TD: And then because I hired Jimmy Wheelchair.

STARS (shouting from behind a kiosk): IT’S A HOVEROUND DELUXE MOBILITY SCOOTER YOU F-!

TD: To answer your challenge… I dog walked you once, Yorkie.  If I liked easy wins, I'd have kept my ass in AAW.

MIC DROP - EXIT

TODD: Is that… it? Did Thaddeus Duke just tell Justin York… no?

The motor of the Hoveround can be heard as Jimmy drives back to the commentary table.

STARS: Is he… is Duke finally gone?

TODD: Yeah, he went back to the back, why?

STARS: It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it, shitbrick.

TODD: Haha, you’re scared of the boss. Even I have to give Justin York credit though, there’s not a cell in his body that seems fearful of Thaddeus Duke, even though he should be.

STARS: I’m not scared! I just… I can’t… whatever! York looks pissed, like he should be. And I don’t blame him. Why make all of the effort to come here to Independence Eve Anarchy just to say no?! Who’s the real chicken shit here?

TODD: It’s still you, Jimbo.

STARS: UGH. I’m this close to firing your ass, Todd. I swear to God.

TODD: What’s stopping you?

STARS: I haven’t drawn your name out of the firing hat… yet.

TODD: Well, whatever. It’s going to be one hell of a main event tonight, but we can’t get there until we start the action, so while Justin York has to wait until later to get his fight on, lets get ours on… right now!


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The crowd are seen chatting amongst one another when the lights suddenly go out in the arena, 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.

TODD: What?!? No freaking way! Is he here? Is Razor Blade in the building?!?

…

TODD: These are the questions that less professional announcers seem to ask whenever Razor Blade heads to the ring.

STARS: It’s embarrassing, Todd. Thankfully, this duo on Anarchy is able to keep our heads on straight for a routine entrance.

Smoke emanated from the stage, 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.

TODD: While he was scheduled to compete and is not a major surprise on the card, what IS surprising is how impressive Razor looked on Warfare! He went to war with his long-time partner Latoya Hixx, claiming an emphatic victory by executing the Diamond Blade off the entrance ramp to secure a victory!

STARS: It was a breakout performance for Razor… But, after a hit like that, you either ride that success to the next hit, or let yourself fade as a one-hit wonder. Razor did what some thought he could never do, strung together a win. But, can he make it two?

''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 suits as he knelt down, tapping the ramp with his fist, jumping up to his feet as he extended his arms out.

''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 down the ramp, high fiving members of the crowd in the front row before going over and doing the same thing on the other side of the ramp. Razor walked down the rest of ]the ramp, stopping at the end of it as he looked around before walking towards the steel steps. He glanced down at them, before tapping them with his hand as he raised his arms trying to pump up the crowd before walking up the steel steps as he scaled the turnbuckle, looking around before extending his arms as even more pyro went off on the stage. Razor hopped down into the ring.

STARS: Is the adrenaline in your soul, Todd?

TODD: Uhm. Yeah, sure. I’m always pumped for Anarchy, Jimmy.

STARS: Good answer-

TODD: Thanks, Jimmy.

STARS: -for a loser!

TODD: Ugh.



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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!

TODD: Jimmy, imagine going through a war like Latoya did on Warfare with Razor, her brother-in-arms… Waging unspeakable violence on someone you’ve developed this trust and partnership with… and then, days layer, you’re competing together met AGAIN, this time in a triple-threat match. What do you think is going through Hixx’s head right now?

STARS: The “Pop Goes the Weasel” song. Hixx ain’t working with a full toolbox and getting dropped on her head off the ramp on Warfare couldn’t have helped matters much. But, watch for her to make a choice early. Is she gonna team with Razor to try and secure this Revolution title opportunity between them? Or is it every man, woman and Oz for themselves?

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!

TODD: That’s not very nice.

STARS: If you think I’m mean, you should wait until you see this man!



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: Now… Yes, this match includes the ongoing saga of American Storm… but the monster looming over this match… has gotta be Mister Oz.

STARS: No doubt, Toddy. Oz has been on a WARPATH. He shredded Damian Santos into carnitas strips last Anarchy!

TODD: And Oz has sworn that he will become a two-time Revolution champion! Step one is winning tonight’s match. But he has two obstacles ahead of him, in the form of American Storm…


INDEPENDENCE EVE MINI-TOURNAMENT

MISTER OZ
- vs -
RAZOR BLADE
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX

Triple Threat
Winner faces Winner of XXXVI vs KEETON at Leap of Faith
For the Number One Contendership to the Revolution Title


The bell rings and Razor Blade immediately clenches his fists, bouncing on the balls of his feet with that signature wide-eyed, never-back-down expression. His lips curl into a confident sneer as he charges toward Mister Oz—his face the picture of overzealous determination.

At the same time, Latoya Hixx lets out a guttural yell, her brow furrowed like a bull seeing red. She barrels forward toward Oz as well, arms swinging like wrecking balls.

TODD: Looks like Storm IS still a United Front, coming at Oz like a pair of lumberjacks taking down a redwood!

STARS: Wise. They’re trapped in there with an absolute monster, not really a great time to be figuring out their personal beef.

Oz stands motionless at first, one brow arched in amusement, arms spread slightly—welcoming the oncoming assault like it’s an offering. His chin lifts, eyes closed for a half-second as if receiving the faith of these two zealots.

But just as Razor leaps into the air with a flying forearm and Latoya winds up a massive haymaker—

Oz erupts, both eyes flashing open with fire. His arms shoot up like battering rams, catching Razor midair with shocking ease, before launching him into Latoya, knocking both challengers to the mat in a tangled heap.

STARS: Oh my God! That man is a literal human catapult! You know how much merch we could sell if he came with a launch button!? Hang on, I’m calling XWF’s toy department…

TODD: Unbelievable strength from Mister Oz!

Latoya pushes herself up first, snarling, face twisted in confusion and fury. She charges again with a war cry, her fists hammering toward Oz’s broad back. Razor follows, holding his ribs but fueled by pride and adrenaline, nodding to himself in an unspoken vow to never back down.

Oz’s eyes dart between them with measured calm—a man surveying ants.

He grabs Latoya with one hand by the wrist, the other hand snatching Razor by the waistband of his tights—and in a single, fluid motion, tosses both of them into opposite corners like they’re made of foam.

Latoya’s face smashes into the turnbuckle, her expression briefly dazed, while Razor hits back-first against the corner, his face scrunching with pain—but still, he tries to smile through it, even staggering out with arms raised in a "come on then" gesture.

TODD: Oz is single handedly ragdolling both of them! This is domination! This is brutality!

STARS: This is a license to print money! A golden goose! Think action figures, NFTS, an HBO miniseries!

Mister Oz’s expression finally hardens. He exhales slowly through his nose, as if tired of their weakness, and locks his cold gaze on Razor Blade. Razor nods, raising his dukes, daring Oz to advance.

Oz obliges.

He snatches Razor from the corner with zero hesitation, yanking him into a waistlock. Razor’s face contorts with fear for the first time as Oz launches him backwards with a massive German Suplex!

Razor lands high on his shoulders, rolls through, and barely starts rising before Oz re-hooks him, face blank, breath even—another German Suplex! Razor’s limbs go limp momentarily.

TODD: Two in a row! He’s going for the full six!!

STARS: Sextuple German Suplex!

But just as Oz hoists Razor up for the third—

Latoya roars back to life.

Her face a mix of rage and desperation, she throws herself at Oz, clubbing him across the back with forearm after forearm. Razor takes this opening to scramble into the ropes, cradling them to his chest, doing anything he can to not get thrown once more.

Meanwhile, Latoya’s blows are fierce, wild, unchecked—her eyes wide with frustration that this mountain of muscle hasn’t crumbled yet.

Oz grits his teeth for the first time. A crack in the god’s patience.

He turns his head slowly toward Latoya, eyes burning.

With a sudden pivot, he hooks Latoya instead into a waistlock, and whips her into a German Suplex of her own! Her legs fly over her head as she crashes down.

TODD: Now he’s doing the sequence to Latoya!!

STARS: Everyone’s catching suplexes! You get a suplex! YOU get a suplex!

Oz grabs her again, lifting for the second—

But this time, it’s Razor Blade who throws himself forward in desperation, clutching the ropes for balance. His face is dripping sweat, chest heaving—but he throws a weak chop to Oz’s chest with all the fire he has left.

SMACK!

Oz doesn’t flinch.

He turns toward Razor, eyes wide, mouth slowly curling into an unholy grin.

Oz shoves an exhausted Latoya to the mat! Then, like a divine punishment, he grabs Razor again, reapplying the waistlock.

TODD: Oh no. Oh no! He’s back on Razor! It’s starting over!

Razor’s eyes go wide in horror as Oz begins to lift—

But Latoya, breathless and barely upright, screams and hurls herself at Oz’s back once more.

This time, Oz doesn’t let go.

With both arms locked around his two stunned opponents, Oz roars—a primal bellow that shakes the rafters. His body tenses, veins bulging from every limb—

And then—

HE GERMAN SUPLEXES BOTH OF THEM AT ONCE.

STARS: OH. MY. BRANDING.

TODD: That was a simultaneous German Suplex on Razor Blade AND Latoya Hixx! How is that even humanly possible!?

STARS: It’s not, Todd! That’s the point! Oz is performing MIRACLES in that ring!

Both Razor Blade and Latoya Hixx lie scattered on the mat like scrapheap wreckage—arms splayed, chests heaving, faces blank with exhaustion. Mister Oz stands alone in the center of the ring, towering above them, his breathing controlled, expression unreadable. He surveys the wreckage of his sermon with cold serenity, as if awaiting divine instruction on which soul to claim.

His eyes settle on Razor Blade.

Oz’s lips twitch into something that almost resembles mercy—or is it disappointment?

He stoops, gripping Razor’s arm and yanking him upright with frightening ease. Razor barely stays on his feet, legs wobbling like overcooked spaghetti. Oz threads Razor’s arm between his own legs, grabbing him around the waist—

TODD: He’s going for the pumphandle slam! That might be the exclamation point on this match!

But as Oz begins the lift—

Latoya Hixx rises behind him, face contorted with defiance and desperation. She clenches her jaw, charges forward—and fires a brutal low blow right between Oz’s legs!

Oz freezes. His arms go slack. His jaw drops in an anguished snarl.

STARS: …Good lord. Right in the family jewels…

TODD: That might be the smartest thing Latoya’s ever done in a match!

Oz stumbles forward—

CRACK!

Latoya follows up immediately, leaping into the air with a massive Bicycle Kick that explodes against Oz’s temple, sending the giant crashing to one knee like a king struck down mid-coronation.

Latoya turns to Razor, eyes wide, barking orders like a tank commander under fire.

TODD: Look at that! If there were fears American Storm couldn’t reunite after they battled on Warfare, dismiss them! Latoya has bailed out Razor and is asking him to help her take down Oz!

Razor stumbles upright, eyes wide with adrenaline. He nods, panting, hands on his knees.

Latoya spins back toward Oz—

And Razor hits…

LATOYA  from behind with Blade Rose—a sudden, savage rolling cutter!

Hixx’s skull slams her face-first into the mat.

STARS: Betrayal! That was his ride-or-die! His muscle! His tag-team enabler!

TODD: Razor Blade just stabbed Latoya Hixx in the back with Blade Rose! He knows only one of them can get the Revolution title shot and he’s decided it’s his time!

STARS: Razor might steal this one by pinning Latoya again!

Razor scrambles over her prone body, hooks the leg, shouting at the ref.

1…

Tw-Before the ref can even call “two,” Oz is there—slamming his forearm into Razor’s back.

Razor rolls off with a yelp, stunned, looking up as Oz rises again from one knee like a prophecy fulfilled. His eyes are wild now, nostrils flared. No longer tranquil. No longer divine.

Just wrath.

Latoya rolls out of the ring, clutching her face, crumpling to the floor.

Razor, panicked, tries to scramble away—but Oz grabs him by the jaw, dragging him upright with one hand.

And then—

Oz stuffs his hand deep down Razor Blade’s throat.

TODD: I FAILED YOU!

Razor flails, his eyes bulging, legs kicking as Mister Oz clamps the Mandible Claw deep into his gullet with fingers like iron.

Razor stumbles backward, trying to fight it… He shoves back on Oz with everything he’s got…

But Oz

Is

Just

Too Strong.

Ozzy marches forward, forcing Blade down.

Down.

Down.

Razor collapses to his knees.

Then to his back.

The referee slides in.

One!



Two!!




Thr..ee!!!

WINNER: MISTER OZ


Oz releases the hold slowly, staring blankly down at Razor’s twitching body.

The arena lights dim slightly, catching the faintest shimmer in his skin as he rises his arms, victorious.

TODD: Razor Blade betrayed Latoya… and still came up short.

STARS: There’s no shame in losing to a MONSTER, Todd. But there is shame in getting divinely strangled in the mouth.


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CUT TO: BACKSTAGE


We cut to a shot of Anarchy GM Jimmy Stars’ office. The camera is already rolling as Anarchy Assistant General Manager the ol' Wheel And Dealer flips through the night’s run sheet. He mumbles quietly to himself about various stipulations and contracts, when his closed door suddenly bursts wide open! Wheel and Dealer doesn’t seem to notice, however, as he continues going about his duties.

WD: “Probably should have the fire department on standby for this one… Hmm…”

Charlie Nickles swaggers in like he owns the place, using Peter’s wheelchair to forcibly open the GM’s door. Peter looks stiff as ever in his wheelchair, his body barely moving a muscle. Peter’s empty-eyed gaze remains firmly pointed in whichever direction Charlie happens to be pointing his wheelchair. WD’s jaw drops as he sees the condition of the Warfare General Manager.

WD: “Sorry, GM’s office is closed for the evening. And no, I don’t care what you did to Peter, that’s Warfare business and I’m not here to babysit.”

“Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy... it’s not what I did. It’s what YOU and the rest of the XWF LET HAPPEN….”

Wheel and Dealer looks perplexed initially, but then decides, ahh, what the hell? Let’s go with it.

WD: “Yes. I am Jimmy Stars, Charlie. One-hundred percent. The guy in the Hoveround that talks too much. Tell me, what exactly have I let happen precisely?”

Charlie rolls Peter Principle into the center of the office, then just abandons the chair as he himself walks forward to sit directly across from the faux Anarchy GM.

“As soon as Pride Month ended, The Rainbow Warriors viciously attacked our beloved Peter Principal- injecting him with all sorts of foreign chemicals…you know, poppers and the like!

But as the Universal Champion of the XWF, it is my duty to preserve the order and sanctity of this company...even if that means picking taking on new roles and obligations in the face of personnel limitations.”

’DING!’

Peter Principle stares ahead aimlessly as he dings the bell on his wheelchair. Wheel and Dealer looks between Charlie and Peter with a slack jaw, clearly taken aback at the situation.

“As the reigning Universal Champion- and the new ACTING General Manager of Warfare-“

WD: “Come again?”

The Nickleman leans back in the chair with a smug grin on his face.

“Oh, you heard me right Jimmy! Peter signed the paperwork yesterday- it’s already official.”

WD: “Not to call you a liar, but I doubt Peter signed anything. He looks like an extra on the walking dead. Get him to the local hospital and leave him there.”

‘DING. DING.’ Peter dings his bell twice.

”See? Two dings! For ‘no’! He’s fine!

Even though his face is perfectly still… something very subtle in his expression indicates the idea of being away from the XWF right now would revile Peter.

WD: “...Look, even if you’ve worked out a ding system… Peter should be checked by Doctor Richardson. There’s no way he’s in his right mind if he thinks Charlie Nickles should take over as Warfare GM.”

The Nickeman dismisses Jimmy’s concerns with a simple wave of his hand.

“No offense, Jimmy: but that’s above your paygrade. Your job is to run Anarchy…my new job is to run the XWF. That’s why it’s important that we have this meeting now, to make sure we are in full alignment about the new policies we will begin rolling out to promote the safety and prosperity of all XWF talent.”

WD raises a suspicious eyebrow as Peter ‘DINGS’ his bell once more.

WD: (sigh) “This should be good. Go on, hit me up with the changes. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Effective immediately—no Black Rainbow backstage. Period. No appearances. No surprise run-ins. No more Ouija boards in catering.

They are persona non grata, got it?.”

Peter DINGS emphatically. Charlie smiles wider.

“All fan signs referencing revolutions, uprisings, and people’s movements? Confiscate them immediately. If they wave a Dolly Waters sign, security gives them the boot. Capiche?”

WD: “We’re in a mall, Charlie. You can’t do that, because I’m not even sure that I can-”

Peter DINGS aggressively, in sequences of two, over and over ‘no no no no’... as Charlie cuts ‘Jimmy’ off.

“I can. I am. And I’m not done- so sit down, shut the fuck up, and start taking notes.

You don’t want to fail your first performance review.”

WD looks immediately taken aback as The Nickleman leans forward, placing his elbows upon Jimmy’s GM table as if it were his own.

“All Revolution merch? Pulled. All Corporation merch? Front and center at every booth.

Foam fingers? They flip birds now.

You want a shirt? It has to have my face or my belt on it.

No exceptions.”

DING!
DING!
DING from Peter. Charlie cackles maniacally at the situation.

WD: (sighing louder) “And what does three dings mean?”

”It was one ding, three times! Like, YES! YES! YES! Keep up, Stars…”

WD: “How could I have ever mistaken his obvious enthusiasm.”

“Oh, and Peter just said that the pyro budget for my entrances is now more than your entire catering bill. Also, all Anarchy talent must exclusively refer to me as ‘Mr. Champion’ in all future promos.

They will respect my title AND my tie, or they will suffer for it.”

WD: “You really think you can just walk in here and—”

“I didn’t walk in, Jimmy.

I rolled in, rang a bell, and rewrote every damn rule in the book!

Anarchy belongs to The Corporation now. You can keep your desk.

But we’re taking everything else!”

Charlie rolls his head back with laughter before turns and walks out, almost forgetting to take Peter with him!

Ding! Peter rings his bell to second Charlie’s exiting statement.

It’s not until Charlie hits the door and hears that ‘DING’ that he remembers to grab Peter’s chair. As the corporate due leave the office, WD just sits back in his chair with a look of disbelief.

WD: “Well, that’s it. I’m asking for a raise.”


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XWF PRESENTS: LEAP OF FAITH
LIVE - KROGER FIELD - LEXINGTON, KY
-  JULY 20TH 2025 -

EARLY TICKETS are on PRESALE only on: XWF99.com!
Also follow us on X - @xwf1999
Or on BlueSky - @xwf99.bluesky.social


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STARS: HOW DARE HE?!

TODD: How dare he who? Charlie? Peter Principle?!

STARS: Wheel and Dealer… Asking for a raise! All he does is sit around in my office all day!

TODD: Doing your work.

STARS: No, he’s doing his job… just like you should be doing yours.

TODD: Fine. Up next, we get to see who will take on Mister Oz at Leap of Faith for that coveted Number One Contender’s spot at the upcoming Leap of Faith PPV.

STARS: You gotta like how the Revolution division is shaping up. Maybe we should have our own rankings. Maybe a top 5 or something. A mini-ELO.

TODD: That would be nice. You going to make that a part of your SuperSTARS spotlight segment too?

STARS: Of course.

TODD: We wouldn’t want you to miss out on taking credit for anything around here.

STARS: You really do know how to cut a man deep. Oh Todderick, why wouldn’t I take credit for everything around here?



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 out his head and shoulders and begins to walk down the ramp, hands still in prayer pose. 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.

STARS: This dude gives off all the wrong vibes. It’s bad joojoo.

TODD: Bad what now?

STARS: Well, not only does he accuse me of setting him up as a stepping stone for JC Keeton, which I didn’t, by the way, he talks about himself as this tortured soul behind that mask.

TODD: XXXVI is as enigmatic as he is intense. He’s not here to win your love, Jimmy. He’s here to prove you wrong and take that brass ring from Keeton’s hand.

STARS: I NEVER SAID XXXVI couldn’t win this match!



A deep bass rumble hits first—like the distant crack of a thunderstorm rolling over farmland. The screen flickers to life with vintage home video clips: grainy footage of a young JC in headgear wrestling in dusty high school gyms… riding horses… before fast-forwarding to JC lifting the IWF world title!

BLACK SCREEN.

A burst of golden-white pyro erupts from both sides of the entrance ramp!

JC KEETON bursts through the curtain with laser focus. He doesn’t slow down. No theatrics. No posturing. He walks with an athlete’s gait—loose shoulders, tight fists, jaw locked, eyes burning forward.

He doesn’t look left or right. Just straight down the aisle, headed straight for the ring.

TODD: No frills, no distractions. That’s JC Keeton in a nutshell for ya. He’s all business every time we see him.

STARS: Well, he lives in a camper. And trust me, there’s not much in the way of distractions when you live in a camper.

TODD: How do you know he lives in a camper? Or are you making that up?

STARS: I saw it in the parking lot.

TODD: We’re at a mall.

STARS: Right. Who else would bring a camper to the mall?

TODD: Ugh. The former IWF World Champion is battle-tested. But the question tonight is… can he outmaneuver the unpredictable XXXVI and make his way through to the Land of OZ at Leap of Faith?


INDEPENDENCE EVE MINI-TOURNAMENT

XXXVI
- vs -
JC KEETON


Keeton and X square off in the center of the ring as the referee calls for the bell. Keeton calls for a test of strength and X obliges reluctantly and just as the two lock up, X kicks him in the midsection and fires off some rapid forearm strikes that backs Keeton into the ropes. X shoots Keeton off into the opposite side rope and on the rebound leaps over him, Keeton hits the ropes again and this time X flattens out on the mat and Keeton hops over, X closes the distance fast as Keeton hits the ropes again and he drills him with a nasty dropkick that sends Keeton to the canvas.

TODD: That dropkick hit like a bullet! XXXVI with the early momentum here.

STARS: XXXVI is making sure that Keeton understands the pain of loss.

TODD: If that’s true, he may be looking for a bit more than a pinfall here tonight.

STARS: Oh, if he has his way, he’ll put JC through the wringer. But JC said he could handle it… so…

Keeton bounces back up rather quickly but X is there and waiting, he grabs Keeton's leg and hauls him down the canvas with a dragon screw that torques his knee out. Keeton wills himself back to his feet quickly using the ropes and X goes on the offensive once more and clotheslines him out of the ring. X hits the ropes and leaps over top crashing into Keeton with a suicide dive and both men hit the floor hard.

TODD: X is throwing his body like a weapon—classic high-risk, high-reward there from someone who really doesn’t seem like he has anything left to lose.

STARS: And high impact. That landing looked like it sucked for both of them. Can somebody make sure we’ve got Doctor Dickbag on standby?

TODD: Doctor Dick… you mean XWF’s head trainer? Doctor Richard?

STARS: Eh, maybe. The one who gives out ice packs for anything. Both my guys are gonna need one!

X makes it back to his feet first and rolls Keeton into the ring and then scales the apron and the top turnbuckle. He leaps off with a moonsault BUT KEETON MOVES just in the nick of time and X crashes the canvas hard. Keeton capitalizes quickly and scoops X off the canvas and drills him with a series of elbow strikes followed by a jumping knee strike that rocks X and sends him stumbling. Keeton throws a spinning uppercut and then quickly drops him with a Poisonrana and follows up with a spinning 360 leg drop and makes a quick cover..


One



Two-


Kickout by XXXVI!

STARS: OHH, that was close!

TODD: That flurry from Keeton was vicious! He’s not just surviving though, Jimmy. He’s turning the tide of this contest.

STARS: You land a Poisonrana and then hit a 360 leg drop? That takes a special kind of talent. Damn shame Keeton is a Valor guy or I’d totally work with him.

TODD: Uhm, he’s an XWF superstar on your roster, too, Jimmy.

STARS: Neat!

Keeton runs his hands through his hair before pulling X back to his feet and setting him up perfectly for a German Suplex, he throws him overhead and X lands perfectly square on his feet, he leaps up and takes Keeton down to the canvas with a reverse hurricanrana dropping him square on his dome. X delivers a standing moonsault and then goes for a cover of his own hooking the leg. Cover!


One



Two-


Keeton powers out!

TODD: Loving the back and forth action! These two are mirroring each other with insane athleticism. I thought X might have had the pin there, but this could still go anyone’s way.

STARS: And how’s Keeton even conscious after that reverse rana? Numbers just bounced him offa his brainstem and JC just kept going like the JC stood for something religious!

TODD: …

X delivers another standing moonsault and then locks on the Boston crab and is wrenching on it. Keeton is writhing in pain as he crawls toward the ropes. Keeton looks as if he’s going to tap, his arm is extended fully into the air and just as he slams it down he grabs ahold of the bottom rope and the referee forces X to break the hold and he obliges after a moment. X stomps down and Keeton a few times and perches himself a few feet away and taunts Keeton to get back to his feet. He wills himself back to his feet and once he does, X throws a heavy looking super kick but KEETON DUCKS!

STARS: Ooh, I likey me some taunting. Maybe not the best time to do it but whatever.

TODD: Pure grit on display from JC Keeton. He was milliseconds from tapping!

STARS: Yeah yeah. But he didn’t, unlike Aurora. That bitch.

Keeton spins him around and drives him down to the canvas with a tiger Suplex and then quickly pulls him back to his feet and tries to lock in the Shepherds Crook (Standing ninja choke) but X floats him over to the mat with an overhead Suplex variation. Keeton is holding his ribs on that one. X points to the top rope and scales the turnbuckles and leaps off with the final countdown (Shooting star into leg drop) but at the very last minute Keeton rolls away and then taps the side of his head with a smirk on his face.

TODD: JC was playing possum! XXXVI just crashed and burned!

STARS: It looks like two can play mindgames. Count me in!

TODD: So two-and-a-half. Got it.

STARS: HEY!

TODD: Look, I’m trying to do a match, okay? These counters are lightning fast. Every move has an answer and I can barely keep up!

STARS: It's like watching two chess masters punch each other in the face. Which, to be fair, would make chess a lot more fun to watch.

Keeton takes advantage of the situation and hits the ropes and then drills X with the Ode to the outlaw (leaping leg lariat) which sends X flat back to the canvas. Keeton hooks the leg. Cover!


One



Two-



Thr-NO! X is too close to the ropes and grabs the bottom rope at the very very last millisecond breaking the Pinfall.

STARS: Good ring awareness.

TODD: That was close! I agree, Jim, XXXVI to grab that rope was incredible.

STARS: Smart wrestling from the guy who looks like he sleeps in a cemetery. Who’d have thunk it?

TODD: It really doesn’t matter how he presents himself. XXXVI brings the chops with him. And he’s got a killer moveset.

STARS: Don’t say killer-

Keeton watches as X uses the turnbuckles to pull himself back his feet ever so slowly. Keeton hits the ropes and drills X with EXILED (high impact spear) but X wisely jumps over him Keeton hits the middle turnbuckle head first at full speed. Keeton stumbles back on his arse holding his head.

TODD: CHRIST! Keeton just ate that turnbuckle full-speed! That could be a concussion right there.

STARS: That’s an ice pack at best. Moving on.

TODD: I’m being serious, Jimmy.

STARS: So am I. I know how Doctor Dickbag handles these things. It’s an ice pack or a toe tag. JC’s choice.

TODD: If he doesn’t do something soon, it’s going to be XXXVI’s choice!

X hits the ropes at full speed but Keeton quickly leaps to his feet and this time hits the EXILED!!! X slams the mat hard and Keeton hooks both legs-


One



Two-



Three!

XXXVI gets his shoulder up off of the mat, but a split-second too late!

DING DING DING

WINNER: JC KEETON


TODD: EXILED OUT OF NOWHERE! Keeton wins!

STARS: 36 got that shoulder up—but it was half a heartbeat too late. You hate to see it… unless you’re JC Keeton of course.

TODD: Now he’s heading to Leap of Faith to face Mister Oz for that number one contender’s spot! And probably a higher spot on your rankings… I might surmise.

STARS: Somebody light the fireworks! This division’s about to explode!

An unpaid intern reaches for the fireworks button-

STARS: NO! NOT LITERALLY YOU FOOL! DO YOU KIDS EVEN KNOW METAPHORS?!

TODD: Well, at least we’re not cursing at them.

STARS: YOU COULD HAVE KILLED US ALL! FUCK!

TODD: Wait… what?


[Image: wireline.png]



XWF PODCAST
LISTEN TO V3 - EPISODE 2

Did you like the first episode of the XWF Podcast V3?
Of course you did. And it wasn’t even the subliminal messaging that forced you to.
You know the drill:
Watch Anarchy and listen to the latest XWF Podcast AT THE SAME TIME!
Or check out the XWF Official™ Media YouTube Channel all your podcast needs
ALL THE WRASSLE TALK, ANY TIME YOU PLEASE

Episode 2 features Post-Rebellion thoughts and reactions to the results…
A perfect compliment to Episode 1… and perhaps…
Episode 3 may cover Leap of Faith? We sure hope so!
Let us know how we’re doing, and if you, too, enjoyed the podcast!


[Image: wireline.png]


When Anarchy comes back from commercial breaks, the fans begin stirring, pointing, and murmuring. No music plays as figures emerge from one of the Mall of America corridors next to the ring, and the jeers rain down like a torrential downpour.

TODD: Wait a minute here, what the…my.. Hey!

STARS: I didn’t authorize this!

TODD flips through his program notes, increasingly shaking his head in dismay.

TODD: THE BLACK RAINBOW IS HERE! WHY!

STARS: I don’t know.

TODD: What the hell are they doing on Anarchy?

STARS: I don’t know.

TODD: What do you know? Aren’t you supposed to be the General Manager?

STARS: Sure am, Todd. Hey, as your boss, why don’t you go ask them what they’re doing here?

TODD: No thank you.

STARS: That’s what I thought.

They're in full force, too. Emilia Glazkov, Dr. Holly Cambric, Marisol Vilaro, Enigma, and the Messenger. Dressed in all black, everything black, with the Messenger carrying the XWF Tag Team Titles for the two women who own them, yet can not be troubled to carry.

The Black Rainbow pays little mind to the hateful mall crowd as they climb into the ring and take up their stations flanking the Advocate. At the behest of Emilia, Mari secures a mic and takes center stage, gesturing in a grand manner like a game show host.

MARISOL VILARO: Behold! The full power of the Black Rainbow has arrived on MY show! Tonight, this is not XWF Anarchy, it’s Vilarchy. Named after me, of course, since I think you 400-pound mall hogs need it explained to you. We’re here for one reason only. To hold the DESECRATION CEREMONY for the XWF Tag Team Titles!

The fans in the mall become undone! Wild jeering and threats are hurled at the faction. This doesn’t change their posture, all standing with determined faces.

TODD: Jimmy? Wh.. what is she talking about?

STARS: In case you missed it the first few times…

TODD: Right. You don’t know. Gotchu.

Mari all but struts up to the Messenger, who smiles wide and evil as any evil could smile. He extends his title-clad hands outward at his sides and saunters to the middle of the ring as if he’s about to accept Jesus as his Lord and Saviour. The Messenger tilts his head back and smiles, smiles, smiles as Emilia approaches and raises a vial of Consecration Mist. The rest of the Black Rainbow produce their vials of Consecration Mist and hold them high as if in a cheerful toast.

Emilia nods to Holly and mouths something. The doctor takes control of the mic.

DR. HOLLY CAMBRIC: Behold your idols of validation. Forged in sweat. Fought over in blood. And now reduced to that which cannot be explained. These belts, once held aloft by emperors and kings, are now no more sacred than the floor tiles of this mall. Some called the holders of these straps immortals. Well, as Herodotus once said about Immortals at Thermopylae, we put their reputation to the test. And they failed. This is not blasphemy. This is not purification. This is blasphication. The merging of both.

The crowd isn’t even booing anymore. They’re more confused and on edge than anything else.

DR. HOLLY CAMBRIC: Tonight, we mark these titles in the name of the Shadow with the Yellow Eyes. We baptize them in our consecration mist so they may never again be worn without the stain of truth burned into them. A stain that no solvent can scrub away, no polish can shine away, no champion can ignore.

Emilia raises a hand, bringing Holly to a reverent hush.

EMILIA GLAZKOV: Let prestige rot. Let myth collapse. Let Black Rainbow reign.

She uncorks her vial of the black goo. The rest do the same. The crowd has no idea what to make of this until they see a blur of silver hair rushing to the ring like a bat out of hell. They pop hard.

TODD: AURORA! IT’S AURORA!

STARS: WHO LET THAT BITCH ON MY DAMN SHOW?!

TODD: IT’S A SHOPPING MALL, JIMMY - SHE DOESN’T NEED TO BE LET IN!

STARS: DAMN IT!!!

Aurora gets handed a walking cane by an old man near the ringside, and she slides into the ring with it. The first swing from Aurora comes at Vilaro herself, who ducks and immediately slides out of the ring. Emilia grabs the end of the cane, but Aurora counters with a kick to the gut! She slams the cane down across the back of the Left Hand of Maraeth! While Glaskov drops to her knees, Aurora catches Cambric out of the corner of her eye coming at her with a syringe. Aurora swings the cane at Cambric’s hand! She misses! No! Cambric looks down to see the needle broken off of the end of the syringe! Aurora then jams the cane into Cambric’s midsection, who doubles over and takes a shot to her back as well!

TODD: Aurora is absolutely cleaning house! She’s a former Tag Team Champion, and she’s been tortured for far too long by these bastards. She’s not going to let our titles get desecrated by the Black Rainbow!

STARS: I DON’T CARE - JUST GET HER OFF MY DAMN SHOW!

Aurora then turns and swings the cane at Enigma, cracking him in the ribs! But the cane SHATTERS - negating any chance she has to use the weapon. Enigma, the mountain of muscle that he is, doesn’t even FLINCH. Aurora tosses the cane aside and attempts an Entropy Blade… but Enigma simply grabs her around the neck with both hands and chokeslam bombs her right down to the mat with authority!

TODD: Oh no, that monster machine Enigma just had the walking cane shatter over his ribs, and I can’t even tell if he felt it! And now the rest of Black Rainbow is coming to, this doesn’t look too good…

STARS: Looks fine by me!

TODD: What is your problem?

STARS: My problem is in the middle of that ring with silver hair and the skin that looks like somebody scribbled on it! And if Black Rainbow finishes the job here tonight, a HEFTY BONUS is in it for ALL OF THEM!

TODD: The numbers game always catches up. You may get your wish!

Emilia, stretching the knots out of her back, barks orders. Instead of pummeling Aurora, Vilaro, Enigma and Cambric tie her arms to the top and middle ropes and stand unified in front of her. Aurora yells some things, but Mari shoves her signature scarf into her mouth, thus shutting her up.

EMILIA GLAZKOV: Thanks for joining.

Aurora’s eyes say what her voice cannot right now: BURN IN HELL BITCH!

EMILIA GLAZKOV: Before we were rudely interrupted, we now commence.

In unison, they empty the contents into their mouths, slosh it around, and then collectively they spit-spray the grotesque, oily substance onto both belts. It sizzles upon contact. The championships hiss, contort, and darken. The crowd gasps. Todd and Jimmy have been rendered speechless at the unfathomable sight. Aurora’s eyes are filled with wild fury and death lasers aimed at Emilia.

TODD: I can’t believe what I’m seeing. I’m speechless.

STARS: I can’t believe they’re not finishing that bitch off when they have the chance!

TODD: You… don’t care at all what the Black Rainbow is doing? How they’re disrespecting the legacy of every XWF champion that came before them?

STARS: Meh. We can always buy new belts.

TODD: That’s not the point!

When the ritual ceremony is complete, Emilia motions to Mari, who promptly takes the mic and gazes into the hard camera, mist all over her goddess-like lips.

MARISOL VILARO: Let all teams who come for these belts know they no longer chase championships. They now chase infection. They chase ruin. They chase us…. Nowhere over the rainbow.

Mari turns toward Aurora.

MARISOL VILARO: As for you, little lady.

Emilia summons Mari and the rest into a brief huddle. They break, and a sinister smile falls over Mari’s lips.

MARISOL VILARO: After some deliberation from my comrades here, we’ve decided that since you are on a Messiahic second coming schtick, we’ll oblige you with the Jesus Christ treatment. It’s only fair, right?

They untie her from the ropes. Aurora fights like a demon, even briefly earning her escape, but a sharp needle jab to the arm from Dr. Cambric brings Aurora to a sluggish movement. They place her on her back in the middle of the ring. Aurora is awake, eyes wide, but her movements are sloth-like, making it easy for them to pose her in the iconic Jesus Christ crucifixion pose - arms stretched out, feet crossed.

Dr. Cambric dips out of the ring and retrieves a hammer and a handful of nails from a toolbox under the ring. The crowd is now worried, screaming for this to stop, yelling at security and police to intervene. When Holly re-enters, she hands the hammer and nails to Emilia, who then kneels next to Aurora’s right hand and places the pointed end of a nail against her palm and raises the hammer.

TODD: THEY ARE LITERALLY GONNA FUCKING CRUCIFY AURORA! SOMEBODY STOP THIS FOR FUCK SAKE!

STARS: Hey… no… wait… stop… that’s my ring you’re going to put a hole in…

TODD: FUCK YOU JIMMY! GET ANYONE! GET EVERYONE OUT HERE NOW!!!

STARS: No… wait… let ‘em finish first… then kick Aurora… I mean Black Rainbow out…

As if on cue with Todd’s urgent plea, most of the Anarchy security team spills out, as well as Mall of America private security, hitting the ring with urgency. The Black Rainbow is gone, though, having retreated in time. The cameras barely catch their retreating forms before shifting the feed back to the ring, where Aurora is seen surrounded by the hordes of security and being tended to by medical staff, who brought their ice packs with them.

TODD: Damn it! Damn them! I can’t believe what Black Rainbow keeps getting away with, week after week!

STARS: Damn it! I was so close to having a good time, minus having to order a new canvas.

TODD: Seriously, what IS your problem here?

STARS: It’s a long fucking story, TODD! And you don’t like hearing me talk!

TODD: No I do not!

STARS: Then don’t ask!

TODD: UGH! I hope Aurora is okay! Thank goodness security arrived when it did, because this could have been a lot, lot worse.

STARS: If only she had some friends to come help her, hmm? I wonder who’s fault that is?

TODD: This might take some time for us to get our bearings before proceeding. We’ll… umm… we’re sorry, we’ll be right back.

STARS: I’m only sorry Aurora didn’t get what was coming to her-

TODD: SHUT! UP!


[Image: wireline.png]


CUT TO: TRAINERS ROOM


“Spoiled” Summer Page is chatting with one of the doctors on the XWF medical team. A smile from ear to ear comes over Summer’s face.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: Thank you for the news, doc…

The XWF Head Trainer Doctor Richardson (AKA Doctor Dickbag) pats Summer on her left shoulder and then walks away. A smiling Summer begins to walk through the Mall of America.

Voice: Summer!!!!

A pleasantly surprised Summer sees her older sister Bianca Page approach her. The two sisters hug.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: What are you doing here? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?

“Classy” Bianca Page: I actually didn’t know that I’d see you here. A guy that I’ve been seeing asked me to meet him here…

“Spoiled” Summer Page: Ooooh a guy?

Summer devilishly smiles at her sister.

“Classy” Bianca Page: Stop it! Don’t embarrass me!

“Spoiled” Summer Page: Who me?

“Classy” Bianca Page: Yes you! And if you do I’ll tell Craig about all the embarrassing stories of yours from when we were kids.

Summer stares daggers at her sister.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: Fine! Whatever!

“Classy” Bianca Page: Glad to hear that you see things my way…

Suddenly the conversation is interrupted by Shark’s loud and obnoxious voice as he comes rushing behind Bianca.

James Shark: YO look what they selling at Spencers.

The camera zooms into a box with Keiran King’s face on it. There is a gasp from Bianca off camera as she reads the wording on the box - “ROYAL FLESHLIGHT”.

James Shark: This motherfucker got his own pocket pussy. This is incredible. Why am I surprised though when that pussy tryna flex off of jumpin’ me after a match!?

Shark laughs out loud and throws the box over his head. The box can be heard hitting something loud and a staff member can be heard yelling out “Ow!!”. Shark cringes but then suddenly notices Summer Page. The both of them react simultaneously.

“Spoiled” Summer Page and James Shark: What are you doing here!?

Both of them glare at one another and cross their arms, it was like looking at a mirror. Bianca tilts her head confused and looks at her sister, but not before grabbing Shark’s arm closely which only lights a fire in Summer’s eyes even more as she puts two and two together.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: O!M!G! Is Shark the guy you came to see?

“Classy” Bianca Page: Wait, James is the Shark guy who has been hitting on you non stop you’ve told us about?

Both Bianca and Summer put their hands over their mouths in shock. Shark looks shocked as well but immediately frowns when he hears Bianca. He puts a finger up.

Shark: Okay well first of all, non-stop is a stret-

Before Shark can continue Bianca immediately lets go of him in disgust then slaps him across the face before storming off. Gasps can be heard from the arena by how hard the slap was, it almost looked like there was an imprint on his cheek. Shark slowly looks up at Summer, furious.

Shark: The hell is your goddamn problem!? Why do you insist on bein’ a pain in my ass for!?

“Spoiled” Summer Page: Why am I not surprised that you can’t accept responsibility?!?!

Shark: The fuck you want me to accept!? The fact that you jealous it wasn’t you hoppin’ on the dick this entire time!? Well that ain’t my problem. You had your chance but that ship done sailed for you a long time ago!

“Spoiled” Summer Page: Oh yeah sooo jealous that I kept turning down your flirting…

Shark bobs his head from side to side and mimics Summer before turning around and storming off. He can be heard muttering a bunch of cuss words to himself as the camera pans back to Summer who rolls her eyes.

STARS: Hmmmm…

TODD: All eyes on us, indeed. Eh?

STARS: I hope they can work it out. There’s a lot of potential there for that team to take on the likes of Them No Good Bastards, if they can get on the same page, that is.

TODD: Or perhaps there was a lot of potential.

STARS: Does look like Doctor Dick gave Summer the okay to return to action. I for one am ready for SummerSZN!

TODD: Unfortunately, as far as Shark is concerned, it seems like his Summer season has just ended… and he’s moved on to fresher waters. I guess we’ll have to wait and see?


[Image: wireline.png]


TODD: Up next is the Birthday Wish match… but we still don’t know what exactly a birthday wish match is!

STARS: I know what it is.

TODD: What good does that do us?

STARS: You’ll see…

The camera pans to XWF Unpaid Interns wheeling out a kiddle pool full of a blue gelatin-like substance toward the ringside area.

TODD: Jimmy, no.

STARS: JIMMY YES!

Stars calls for a mic as he gingerly stands up from his Hoveround™ mobility scooter. When the ring announcer hands him one, he taps on it until he can hear the popping through the speakers. There’s a loud shrieking feedback, nearly bursting the eardrums of everyone in the Mall of America Rotunda. Everyone except Jimmy, who remains proud and undeterred.

STARS: Ahem! Mall of America, make some noise! Because what’s coming up next isn’t just any typical match… it’s a birthday bloodbath! Solomon Kline. Tommy Wish. You thought I wouldn’t do it, but when you Wish upon a STARS, all your dreams shall come true!

TODD: Oh, brother.

STARS: Dog collars. Flaming tables. And for some reason, a kiddie pool full of Anarchy Blue jello. You wanted it? YOU GOT IT! You brought our brand the Xtreme Championship, so I bring you a match with my signature all over it! Courtesy of the Million Dollar Mouth, YOUR ANARCHY GM, JIMMY FUCKING STARS!

TODD: …

The crowd pops as the pool of jello is placed in position. Then multiple tables are stacked around it, plus lighter fluid and various methods of ignition.

TODD: Jimmy, this is giving off "make-a-wish in hell” vibes.

STARS: You just wait until Kline and Wish get their asses down here and that chain is locked between them! This match is set to ignite, but it’s up to our superstars to bring the spark!



It shows Tommy in the shadows in a corridor somewhere on the X-Tron in a hoodie, then it fades back into the arena where the lights flicker and the camera see's him coming down to the ring in his jacket hoodie, with him waving a Kendo Stick around him. Then he nods his head to the beat, and he gives some fans some dap as he walks down to the ramp, then he slides into the ring, and gets on the turnbuckle and poses to the crowd with the stick in the air. Then he comes down from there, and sits on the corner as his theme fades off.

TODD: Tommy Wish looks ready as ever, Jim. Do you think this becoming an Xtreme 24/7 Title match changes things for him at all?

STARS: Sure, it elevates the stakes, but I’d like to think not. Wish is still torn up over not being able to bring home those Anarchy Tag Team titles. This does give him a more immediate path to redemption, but ehh, I don’t see where his gameplan changes any, if at all.

TODD: Agreed. I think the Birthday Wishes of a Flaming… uhh Dog Collar… Tables… uhm Jello match works right in Tommy’s favor!

STARS: It absolutely could.



"Dethrone" by Bad Omens plays throughout the arena. The lights go out. Once the beat drops, a spotlight shines on the entryway, where Solomon Kline appears inside the light, clad in a black hoodie over his ring gear and kneeling on his right knee. As the lyrics come in, he stands, removes his hood and surveys the crowd as sparks rain down around him. He grooves his way toward the ring, and high fives fans along the way. He circles the ring and slides under the bottom rope. He continues rocking out to the song and goes to the turnbuckle to let out a primal scream, singing along to the lyric, "Here am I, take me to the pearly gates, so I can look you in the eye when I spit in your face!"

STARS: And here he is, the brand new XWF 24/7 Xtreme Champion, Solomon Kline!

TODD: Proud of him, Always great seeing someone win their first XWF title.

STARS: I’ll remember exactly where I was when Solomon Kline pinned Dickie Watson!

TODD: Where were you?

STARS: …watching the TV. Duh.

TODD: You dumbass. Anyway, yeah, it was Dickie’s tough luck that lead to Solomon’s great fortune. Will Solomon’s luck lead to Tommy Wish’s great fortune? Only a flaming table can decide who is going to walk out of the Mall of America as the Xtreme Champion! And that match starts… NOW!


BIRTHDAY WISH MATCH

XWF Xtreme Championship
SOLOMON KLINE ©
- vs -
TOMMY WISH

Xtreme Dog-Collar Flaming Tables Match
Must put the opponent through a Flaming Table to Win!
Also there’s Jello™


STARS: Both men are collared now, chain stretching about ten feet, or for our British/Canadian brethren, about the length of a Razor Blade winning streak. So it’s not that far! No escape. Tables line the outside, especially around the jello pool. And yes, that is a licensed pyrotechnician standing by with a blowtorch.

TODD: An actual blowtorch. The fuck?

STARS: Language. We wouldn’t want the fire to be the thing that ruins this match.

TODD: What about putting out said fire?

STARS: Uhm, uhh… I’ll see if Wheeler Dealer can call the Fire Department real quick.

TODD: UGH. Jimmy, with you running the show, what could possibly go wrong?

STARS: I know, right?

DING DING DING

Solomon Kline lunges forward like a man possessed, slamming into Tommy Wish with a brutal spear that yanks the chain taut and drives both men to the mat. The thud echoes throughout the Rotunda. Solomon doesn't hesitate, he mounts Wish and hammers him with closed fists, unleashing frustration and fury from a string of missed opportunities.

STARS: Kline is making it known straight away that he’s not taking his first championship defense lightly!

TODD: Potential defense. Both these athletes are sick and tired of playing second fiddle. They want to be seen and heard!

STARS: Oh, we’re going to see and hear them, Toddy.

Wish rolls and struggles to his feet, trying to create space, but the dog collar snaps tight and he's yanked back like a tethered animal. Solomon pulls him in with one swift motion and cracks a short-arm clothesline, dropping him again. The crowd roars, some even leaning over the third-floor railings to get a better view. Tommy rolls out under the bottom rope, dragging the chain with him. Solomon pursues, but Wish yanks hard. The chain catches Solomon at the worst time, sending him flying off of the ring apron and landing flat on the ringside floor.

TODD: Great use of the chain between them by Wish to get the upperhand.

STARS: Veteran move to fake-out the time-out only to lull Kline Jr. right into a false sense of security.

Coughing and clutching his windpipe, Solomon doesn’t notice that Wish has his signature kendo stick back in hand. He stumbles into a brutal kendo stick shot right to the gut, courtesy of the challenger.

Tommy doesn’t stop there. He wraps the chain around his fist and begins driving it down into Solomon’s shoulder, targeting the joint with precise, angry blows. Then he drops him with a Russian leg sweep, making sure the chain is beneath Solomon's spine when he hits. The younger Kline cries out and arches his back, pain etched across his face.

STARS: That chain’s not just for decoration. Tommy's making it a weapon tonight.

TODD: This reminds me of old school XWF, which tracks hard for Wish. Steel chain, kendo stick, concrete floor. All perfectly legal when the goal is to set your opponent on fire.

STARS: No, not directly on fire. I don’t want to have to blow out the candles.

TODD: Speaking of-

STARS: Sigh. Fire department is on their way…

TODD: Are they really?

STARS: …

Tommy drags Solomon toward the pool of Anarchy Jello where a table soaked in lighter fluid waits ominously. He retrieves a Zippo from his jacket pocket and flicks it open, but before he can light anything, Solomon surges up with a headbutt straight to Tommy's face. The lighter flies into the air, vanishing into the crowd.

STARS: Told you the blowtorch was a good option!

TODD: I seriously doubt Wish will ever see that Zippo again.

STARS: Hope it wasn’t heirloom.

Disoriented, Tommy staggers back as Solomon scoops him up and drives him hard into the polished mall floor with a crushing Blue Thunder Bomb. A wet smack echoes against the steel fixtures and tiling. Blood smears along the ground beneath Tommy's head.

TODD: You could hear that!

STARS: You could feel that! Jesus!

Solomon, groggy but determined, crawls over to the kiddie pool full of Anarchy Blue jello. He plunges his hand into the gelatinous mass, scoops up a palmful, and slaps Tommy across the cheek with it, leaving a sticky splatter.

KLINE (shouting): THIS ONE'S FOR FRANCES!

TODD: …this is your fault.

STARS: ME?

TODD: You brought this madness upon us!

STARS: It’s the kids birthday! He wanted Jello Shots… so I got him the world’s biggest jello shot!

TODD: Wait… what?

Back in the ring, Solomon sizes Tommy up for Ashes to Ashes, but as he charges, Wish pulls the chain tight, yanking Solomon into a nasty knee driven hard into the breadbasket. Solomon crumples and Wish barrels into him with a Gore-style spear—Headrusha!

TODD: This match is back-and-forth! Neither man wanting to relent!

STARS: This isn’t the type of thing one can weather the storm on. You have to stay in control, else next thing you know you’re buying new ring gear!

Tommy rises slowly, sneering. Using all of the length of the steel chain, he’s able to retrieve and drag a steel chair into the ring. He props it up, and grabs Solomon by the neck. With a sickening spike, he drops him head-first onto the chair with the HideYaFace DDT. The sound of skull meeting steel makes even the die-hards at ringside wince.

STARS: That's vintage Tommy Wish! That DDT just echoed through the entire food court! Which reminds me, I’m hungry!

TODD: Why don’t you have a jello shot?

STARS: Oh, no thanks, it’s a little early to be drinking.

TODD: Wait… WHAT?!

STARS: …what?

Tommy rolls out and starts preparing a table. He drenches it in fluid again and this time the pyrotechnician steps forward. With a blast of fire, the table ignites into a violent blaze. Flames roar several feet into the air.

TODD: What alcohol did you use?

STARS: NONE! WHY?

TODD: Oh… okay.

STARS: Cause I didn’t make it. Interns did.

TODD: JIMMY WHAT ALCOHOL DID THEY USE?!

STARS: I dunno. Everclear? I didn’t want the Jello to look cloudy.

TODD: JIMMY YOU STUPID FUCKING ASSHOLE!

STARS: HEY!

Tommy grabs the chain and begins dragging Solomon by the neck toward the table. Kline coughs and claws at the mat, gasping for air as the fire draws closer. But Tommy is able to literally drag him out of the ring and right to ground zero.

STARS: This is what he wanted! This is the wish! Flaming table and all!

TODD: IF THAT POOL CATCHES FIRE IT COULD EXPLODE DUMBASS!

STARS: …no way.

TODD: YES WAY!!! GET EVERYONE CLEAR OF THE POOL, NOW!!!

Solomon kicks up with both feet, catching Tommy in the gut and knocking him back. He scrambles up, hitting elbows to the temple, and then a Superkick right to the jaw that spins Tommy 180 degrees.

STARS: But there’s a match still going on!

TODD: (Has Left the Ringside Area. Is now actively moving fans back away from the Jello pool as far and as fast as he can.)

STARS: Fucking hate quitters.

Kline capitalizes. He wraps the chain around his wrist and clocks Tommy across the face with a spinning backfist. Then, with everything he has left, he grabs Tommy by the throat and hoists him into the air. The chain rattles as Kline plants him with Crimson Dawn, a sitout chokeslam that lands just inches from the burning table.

STARS: Kline with the desperate Crimson Dawn! But he must not have had the strength to get him up to the table, so this match continues!

TODD: (Frantically gathering every fire extinguisher available in the vicinity in the background.)

Both men lie still for a long moment, smoke rising from the table nearby. Solomon pulls himself up with the ropes, dragging the chain with him. He tries to lift Tommy again, but Tommy comes alive and claws at his eyes, raking them deep. Solomon howls, blinded, and stumbles back.

Tommy whips the chain viciously across Solomon's back, leaving a line of welts. He yanks him by the collar and sends him flying into the steel ring steps. Then, with a devilish grin, he yanks Solomon up and flings him into the jello pool.

STARS: This match has everything! Blood, fire, chains, and now... blue raspberry carnage!

TODD: GET OUT OF HERE JIMMY! YOU’LL BE COOKED ALIVE!

STARS: And miss out on this perfect Birthday Wish match? Not a chance!

TODD: On second thought, you stay right there, Jim.

Tommy climbs onto the ring apron, waiting for Solomon to emerge. As the younger man stands in the jello, Tommy leaps with a flying lariat. Both men crash into the barricade, knocking over a stack of promotional signage from Hot Topic.

They rise slowly. Solomon lashes Tommy with the chain across the back. Once. Twice. Tommy retaliates with a suplex onto the mall floor, the chain coiling beneath them. Tommy locks in the F-Locker, an ankle lock modified with the chain tightening around Solomon's leg.

STARS: He's going to tear that ankle clean off! No tap-outs in this one, but that pain is real!

Aidan Collins rushes into view from the backstage area, yelling support.

AIDAN: Don’t quit, Sol! You’re not done!

TODD: Blizzard! Help me clear the fans out of here! That’s an entire kiddie pool full of gelatinous, nearly pure grain alcohol thanks to this dumbass!

AIDAN: Really? Oh, shit. On it!

Solomon claws toward the ring steps, dragging both himself and Tommy along. With a final burst, he kicks Tommy off and rolls away, clutching his leg.

Both men are slow to return to the ring, dragging the chain like corpses bound to one another. Solomon gets in first, wrapping the chain around his arm. As Tommy rises, he swings—Ashes to Ashes! A vicious forearm across the jaw.

STARS: Pfft. They’re missing a six-star classic. Oh well, their loss.

Solomon doesn’t wait. He slides back out of the ring, and sets up another flaming table at ringside, this one positioned straddling the ring and the barricade next to the jello pool. With a motion towards the pyrotechnician, this one, too, is lit ablaze. The flames lick at the steel rails, illuminating faces in the crowd.

STARS: Hey, Dwayne “Grok” Johnson, How flammable is pure alcohol in jello shot form?

(Searching. Searching. Results: found. Listing-)

STARS: Oh no. Ohhhh noooo…

Using the chain, he drags Tommy out onto the apron. They brawl above the fire, exchanging wild strikes. Tommy lands a forearm. Solomon hits a headbutt. The chain hangs below them like a noose. The crowd is on edge.

STARS: If either man slips, this whole place goes up!

TODD: AND WHOSE FAULT IS THAT, ASSHOLE?!

STARS: I DIDN’T KNOW! JELLO SHOULD NOT BE FLAMMABLE!

TODD: IT ISN’T, UNLESS YOU USE PURE ALCOHOL TO MAKE IT!

STARS: FOR THE LAST TIME, I DIDN’T MAKE IT!

Tommy hooks Solomon for a suplex off the apron, but Solomon blocks it. He counters, hoists Tommy up onto the top turnbuckle. He follows. The crowd rises with him.

They fight at the top. One misstep means oblivion. Solomon headbutts. Then another. Blood trickles from his forehead.

He hooks the arms.

TODD: Not from up there... NO WAY!!

STARS: THIS IS MADNESS!

DUST TO DUST!

From the top rope to the floor, through the flaming table. Vertebreaker. The table explodes into ash and splinters as both men vanish beneath the blaze.

DING DING DING

WINNER AND STILL XWF 24/7 XTREME CHAMPION: SOLOMON KLINE!


STARS: SOLOMON KLINE JUST SENT TOMMY WISH STRAIGHT TO HELL! HAPPY BIRTHDAY SOLOMON!

TODD: PIECES OF THE TABLE ARE FALLING INTO THE POOL! RUN JIMMY!

STARS: Very funny. You know I can’t run…

TODD: FUCKING DRIVE AWAY THEN!

Medical staff swarm in. Aidan reaches Solomon first and hauls him up from the wreckage, dragging his body away from the pool. Todd and the Security staff pull Tommy Wish clear from the pool as well, as Jimmy drives right up to it.

STARS: The kid did it. He walked through fire and legacy. On his birthday week. In front of the world.

The pool in front of Jimmy catches ablaze. It goes up like a rocket engine pointed in the wrong direction, a bright blue flame bursting upward toward the ceiling!

Jimmy is nearly knocked back off of his Hoveround, but it doesn’t take long for the fans, all armed with the various fire extinguishers Todd gathered, to help temper the blaze. Todd, being the absolute chad that he is, is able to throw the cover back over the kiddle pool, and with help from the extinguishers, smothers the blaze before it could burn down the entire mall and everyone in it.

TODD: Hey man, are you okay?

STARS: Uhh, yeah. That’s crazy, huh?

TODD: YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!

STARS: I don’t know, man! I’m not much of a drinker, okay? Geez. How was I supposed to know?

TODD: UUGGHH!!!

The referees work to unhook Kline and Wish from each other. With both men now up, bloody, welted, and extinguished, they glance across at one another. Kline extends his hand in a gesture of respect. Wish reluctantly shakes it before walking off with his head down.

TODD: And there it is. It might not be a rose, but Kline followed through on giving Wish his flowers.

STARS: I don’t know about you, but I’m thinking we should do this match again sometime. I kinda liked their ideas all merged together!

TODD: You shut the fuck up!

STARS: But I-

TODD: YOU NEARLY BURNED DOWN THE ENTIRE MALL! ZIP IT!

STARS: Awww. Okay.

TODD: COMMERCIAL. NOW.


[Image: wireline.png]

[Image: er37Xq2.png]

MICHEAL GRAVES - GREATEST MATCHES VOL. 1
(ALLEGEDLY)

Over 4 hours and 19 minutes of Micheal Graves greatest!
No, we don’t know why most of the DVD is Mark Flynn matches!
No, we didn’t reprint the covers of Mark Flynn’s Greatest Matches Vol. 1 -
Why would we even do that?

Get yours now at local Target, Best Buy, WalMart, or order it on Amazon Prime with bonus footage-
Featuring: Micheal Graves #1 Fan Irdawg. Peter Parkour, Baby NK & Miss Furry!
Also, Vampires… for some reason!

[Image: wireline.png]


CUT TO: THE SECOND FLOOR


On the second floor of the Mall of America, people are seen eagerly waiting near a large black curtain. Beside it is Bobby Bourbon, wearing a bright fuschia tee that says “Slut” in contrasting eggshell white and a pair of purple camo cargo shorts.

XWF Universe and otherwise regular Minnesotans, welcome to the grand opening of my new retail kiosk!

I know what you're wondering.

How do you, as a No Good Bastard who embraces crass capitalism AND a member of the Revolution looking to broaden socialism, sleep at night?

On a pile of money, but only low denominations!

After all, it pays to be the High Holy Hypocrite of the Bastardly Father.

And that is why I am cutting out the middle man here today.

No longer do you have to find your local Dollar General, Family Dollar, or Dollar Tree to find the fine products from BourbCo.

You can now go to Minnesota!

Coming soon to a retail plaza near you, as well!

The curtain is pulled back, and we see the BourbCo Factory Direct Shop. All manner of boondoggles and tchotchkes adorn the kiosk with a bored attendant standing beside a register. TK is standing there extinguishing a cigarello.

That’s fuckin’ right Bobby.

We at BourbCo are pleased to give you, the consumer, everything you desire!

We have real Industrial Road Goop, as TK says it's the best made in Ohio!

When you need some Industrial Road Goop, think BourbCo, assholes, for all your needs.

We have General Purpose Little Green Doo-Dads, because how many times have you found yourself just wishing you had one of those?

TK holds up two handfuls of general purpose little green doo-dads.

We have our fine line of US Commercial Beef Pickled Sausage, which includes our popular Saffron Surprise and Chickeny Beef flavors.

TK eats a Spicy Dill flavored tube of meat.

Also, we’re unveiling our exciting array of testosterone booster.

That’s right, we will sell you hair and a better penis.

That’s right, folks, there's a fine lineup of merchandise that you, the consumer, never knew you needed until you saw famous people talk about it!

And we're the most famous tag team ever.

And the best part everything here costs just 1 Xbux.

The crowd gasps.

What?

Bobby, Xbux can only be earned by XWF wrasslers. They're extremely valuable.

They're wooden nickles. About as worth having a hotel on Boardwalk in Monopoly.

TK looks at Bobby, knowing he's never had a hotel on Boardwalk in Monopoly.

No, Bobby, they’re worth about $180 a pop.

Bobby's eyes widen, realizing he was opening a wave of kiosks full of extremely expensive merchandise.

Well our exclusive collection just can not be ignored once seen, we’re now just like Sharper Image instead of Five and Below.

I thought that's what you were going for the whole time, a high end gadget company for the upper middle class.

Bobby nods.

Now it is let's go with that.

Uplifting music starts to play.

At this time, we are going to honor the memory of a fallen member of the XWF roster.

That’s right, TK, we’re going to honor the memory of a man who competed in the XWF and was unceremoniously forgotten for years.

A massive banner drops in the middle of the XWF ring, or rather, it's a 21 banner salute throughout the Mall of America, as the visage of Steven “The Trooper” Cooper is seen by literally everyone in the building, everywhere.

[Image: images?q=tbn:ANd9GcT9FWQY8PShWVYnah3naHb...c=73016255]


Steven “The Trooper” Cooper was taken from us too soon from a rapid onset tumor, this warrior of the ring lost his final battle of cancer in, uh, what year?

Shit I don't remember. The thing is, Steven Cooper's career ended after facing us. And we care about him more than anybody.

More than anybody ever.

More than everybody ever. More than his partner, a sexual assault victim whom he mentored, more than his friend, Ned Kaye.

Whom he mentored.


Angel by Sara McLaughlin (Not Sarah Laughlin) begins to play throughout the Mall of America. The entire PA system. Every bathroom, every dressing room, every office.

Oh, and congrats on winning the JV Tag Straps Black Rainbow. I see you repping last year's model, but out with the old and in with the superior!


[Image: wireline.png]

STARS: God, I love those guys.

TODD: Well, we’ve seen a couple matches get real harcore at the Mall of America! And we’re about to get another!

STARS: We already had an X-Treme title match… But we’re about to have two of the most X-Treme men in the XWF come out here to try and top a match with flaming tables, dog collars and jell-o! And with these two? I’d give ‘em even odds to do it!


HARDCORE HEAVEN

FRANCES MARIGOLD
- vs -
MICHEAL GRAVES (CONCEIVABLY)

(Non-Title) Tables Match
An ominously large stack of tables will be set up precariously, suspiciously, in a spot where someone might get thrown from the second floor balcony for a dramatic finish!


Suddenly, there’s the strum of a banjo heard from off-stage…



Through the apron, bursts “Micheal Graves” (conceivably), Anarchy champion, sporting the “Dark Warrior” mask, and the belt on his shoulder.

STARS: Look at him, Todd! The man who beat the reigning, defending, blood-letting Universal champion! THE Top Champion of the XWF!

TODD: …’Graves’ is very impressive, Jimmy, but I think even he’d admit his victory last Anarchy over Charlie Nickles was, at best, controversial. After all, ‘Graves’ ‘won’ when he got Devil Hook Dropped, then fell out of the poorly made cage you had const-

STARS: THE XWF’S TOP CHAMPION OF THE XWF’S A-SHOW.

TODD: *sigh*Well, one thing can’t be denied. ‘Graves’ has been the longest reigning Anarchy champion in XWF history, 284 days… Over ten weeks longer than the last longest-reigning Anarchy champion, Sean Parker. [/blue]

As the banjo strings are plucked, ‘Graves’ strolls down the ramp… As an entourage follows him!

Irwin, Mark Flynn’s #1 fan is plucking the banjo, playing the folk song…

Behind *him* are the Students of Gravy.

Miss Furry paws at a triangle, which isn’t plugged into anything…

While Peter Parkour brings up the rear, holding a microphone…

Peter raises the mask over his lips and lifts the mic.

♫ You may think that you’re neutral ♫
♫  There are no neutrals though ♫
♫ You’re either with the wrestlers ♫
♫ Or a pawn of the CEOs ♫

The fans join in, knowing the chorus by heart…

WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON? WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON?

‘Graves’ continues to walk down the ramp to the beat, staring at the challenger in the ring… as the entourage behind him plays…

♫ The Boss wants us divided ♫
♫  He don’t want this song sung ♫
♫ But us wrestlers, we fight until ♫
♫ That final bell i-

”YEEEEEEAH! YOU’LL BE LEAVIN’ WITH A FAT LIP!”

CRASH!

TODD: “WAIT, WHAT THE—FRANCES MARIGOLD JUST HIT THE SCENE LIKE A ROGUE SHOPPING CART FROM HELL!”

STARS: “Say what you will about Frances Marigold, but he’s loud, which means he’s attention-drawing and he’s consistent, so his brand is clear!

TODD: He’s also constantly showing up to work drunk!

STARS: Which makes him an ideal endorsement figure for our liquor sponsors, Todd!”

Frances Marigold, blackout-drunk and laughing like a lunatic, rockets down the entryway in a stolen shopping cart, plowing straight into ’Graves’and his posse!

Irwin and his banjo go toppling into the front row… Parkour rides the shopping cart and gets flopped all the way under the ring! Miss Furry leaps like a cat onto the audience railing!

But ’Graves’ sails back off the ramp into an Orange Julius booth! kiosk, orange cream milkshake flies everywhere! Frances lands beside in a heap, immediately rising like nothing happened, teeth bloodied from the crash but grinning.

TODD: Holy cow! If you were worried about ‘Graves’ having the numbers game on his side, Marigold using that X-Treme shopping cart of his just levelled the playing field!

Frances jogs up to the cart and retakes the handle, dragging backwards with him what can only be described as a weaponized garage sale: a folded metal sign, a pogo stick, a heavy old VCR.

TODD: Where the hell does Marigold even find this stuff?

STARS: If I had to guess, the front yard of whatever trailer he just crawled out of.

‘Graves’ woozily crawls over the front of the Orange Julius kiosk, drenched in orange goop… Just as Marigold finishes heaving the shopping cart over the railing…

TODD: It looks like this action is going to get FURTHER from the ring… And that tower of tables!

STARS: Oh no! C’mon, go back towards the tables! Interns literally died making it!

‘Graves’ shakes his head, trying to get back into this one… Just as Marigold smashes the sign over Graves’ back!

‘Graves’ tries to crawl away, gripping onto the side of the neighboring Auntie Anne’s pretzel stand… when Marigold retrieves the pogo stick from the cart… then jabs the stick like a bayonet into the side of ’Graves’’ ribs, forcing a howl out of the masked technician! The Anarchy champ drops to his knees!

TODD: ‘Graves’ talked about how his recent matches have been ugly… And that trend might continue, Marigold has come out here looking dominantly X-Treme… and X-Tremely dominant!

STARS: That pogo stick spot brought to you by Sports Authority—wait, no, they’re dead. Just like Graves might be when Marigold’s through with him![/blue]

Frances lifts the pogo stick over the fallen ‘Graves’, looking to crack him over the head with it…

From the ground, ‘Graves’ kicks Frances in the shin! Marigold clumsily goes to grab his shin, then topples, losing his balance, falling face-first into the tile with a thud!

TODD: Something tells me Marigold couldn’t walk a straight line right now… Or touch his nose… Or say the alphabet backwards.

STARS: What are you, a cop?

As Marigold falls, ’Graves’ leaps on the opening, twisting Marigold up on his back, wrenching his  knee into Marigold’s back with a Surfboard Stretch right in front of a Panda Express.

TODD: That’s not an ankle you want to eat orange chicken near! Look at the torque!

STARS: If he breaks that leg, maybe we can sell a Frances Marigold action figure with a detachable knee.

Marigold grunts and growls, trying to power out of ‘Graves’’ hold… But ‘Graves’ simply technically shifts his grip to keep the hold tight!

STARS: Frances… can… break this… hold.

TODD: He can’t break that hold.

‘Graves’ uses his grip on Marigold to twist him like a pretzel off the tile… then ‘Gravy’ transitions seamlessly into a Belly-to-Back Suplex onto the cold marble floor, followed by a precise Knee Drop off a planter ledge to Frances' ribs!

‘Graves’ hooks a leg for the cover on the tiles! The official, who was standing in the ring while ‘Graves’ was entering and took this long to navigate the mall layout to get to the action, drops to count!

ONE!
TWO!!
THR-NO!

Marigold flops up at the last second, groaning something about Limp Bizkit.

TODD: It’s gonna take a lot more than that to take out Frances Marigold!

As ‘Graves’ yells at a referee about counting too slow, Frances drunkenly wandersinto an Abercrombie…

‘Graves’ spins around seeing his opponent, entering the store… He pursues!

…Just as Marigold slips back out… with a mannequin?

TODD: …What the HELL is this maniac up to?

STARS: No idea, Todd, but I guarantee whatever he’s doingm it’s clippable, shareable, and viral-able.

‘Graves’ charges, looking for a grapple…

But Marigold TEARS the arm off the mannequin! ‘Graves’’s eyes widen as he tries to put the brakes on…

WHACK—’Graves’ eats plastic elbow right between the eyes, as Marigold catches him with a stiff, plastic forearm to the face!

TODD: Frances just used fashion-forward self-expression as blunt force trauma!

STARS: I’ve never seen domestic retail violence used like this… This is ART.

TODD: ‘Graves’ might need yet *another* concussion check after this match!


‘Graves’ staggers backwards into the wall… He pushes off woozily, and Marigold delivers a Flapjack onto a mall cop's podium. Then, spotting opportunity, Marigold climbs up the podium, hops off, and hits a leg drop across Graves’ chest.

TODD: This one has been all Marigold so far!

STARS: Who would have figured that chaos in human form would thrive in a match designed to be chaotic!

Marigold latches an arm onto ‘Graves’ chest… The official counts!

ONE!

TWO!

THR-NO! ‘Graves’ forces a shoulder off the tile..

Marigold burps, shoving himself off the tile floor… He’s momentarily distracted by a smell… of cinnamon!

Like a drunken bear distracted by a balloon, Marigold scoops himself off the ground and wanders to a cart serving Auntie Anne’s pretzels!

TODD: Hey Jimmy, how much is XWF taking for product placement this episode?

STARS: Let’s just say my wheelchair is about to have solid gold spinners after all the checks clear.

‘Graves’ woozily shoves himself off the floort… Just as Frances returns with a churro, snapping a bite off it. Frances takes the remaining churro, and tries to bring it across ‘Graves’ throat from behind like piano wire!

…It snaps in half!

TODD: …Well that was dumb!

STARS: Hey part of being on the cutting edge of violence is not every idea is gonna work.

Marigold looks down at his halved churro, trying to figure out why something that would’ve worked in a Looney Tunes cartoon didn’t work here… When ‘Graves’ scrambles from his knees and drives his shoulder forward, tackling Frances through the Auntie Anne’s cart!

The whole cart topples over on its side! Nacho cheese leaks like blood from a gored nacho gazelle!

TODD: Hey Jimmy, is the XWF insured for property damage to the mall?

STARS: …Noooooo, my rims! My solid gold rims!

…’Graves’ rises up first, cradling his gut, trying to get his bearings…

When Marigold rises from the mechanical wreckage, looking unaffected… except for the pre-existing drunkenness.

TODD: If you’d told me Marigold would beat the Anarchy champion tonight, I’d have called you crazy! But this stipulation perfectly serves Frances Marigold! And ‘Graves’ can’t seem to do anything to put a dent in this alcoholic Terminator!

‘Graves’ exhaustedly stumbles up to a Directory stand, catching his breath…

Marigold pulls himself out of what little remains of the Auntie Anne’s stand, and drunkenly charges after ‘Graves’...

‘Graves’ spins around…

AND CATCHES the running Marigold

Counter Powerslam THROUGH THE KIOSK! It folds like cardboard as two men drive themselves through it!

STARS: Oh my God, stop breaking things! This is all coming out of my profits!

TODD: Jimmy, I was kidding. The legal department definitely would have had the stores sign indemnification clauses.

STARS: ..Oh. KEEP BREAKING STUFF! IT’S ENTERTAINING!

As Marigold cradles his aching back, surrounded by fiber glass from the shattered Directory stand… ‘Graves’ grabs Frances by the scruff of the neck and drags him over to the escalator…

He lifts Marigold up…

THEN ATOMIC DROPS GROIN FIRST HIM on the escalator’s silver railing… Marigold covers his ‘treble clefs’ in agony as Graves backs up…

CRACK!
KNEE TO THE SKULL! COUNTERPOINT!

Frances slumps over, his head bobbing like a ragdoll.

TODD: It took a while to get here but ‘Graves’ has finally gotten out of the gate! Marigold looks like he’s in trouble now!

STARS: ‘Graves’ said he wanted Marigold to re-baptize him in blood! To help him find the song he used to know by heart! And this ‘Graves’ is looking absolutely VICIOUS!

‘Graves’ eyes the massive tower of tables stacked like a vertical death sandwich by the food court’s edge. He grabs Marigold by the hair and drags him up the bottom of the escalator…

TODD: Oh my! ‘Graves’ looking with bad intentions at that tower of tables beside the ring!

STARS: Yessss, YESSSSSSSS!

As ‘Graves’ grips Marigold by the head dragging him to the escalator past the food court trash cans… Marigold grabs a plate a customer left atop the trash can, covered in Sbarro pizza grease…

‘Graves’ goes to huck Frances up the escalator… When Frances SMACKS ‘Graves’ with the plate, covering the Dark Warrior mask in grease!

‘Graves’ slips backwards into the escalator… And jerks in panic, trapped! The iconic Micheal Graves coat… has gotten caught in the escalator belt!

TODD: ‘Graves’ famous hobo coat! Inopportunely caught in the escalator!

STARS: That coat may never be usable again! And if half the things I’ve heard about that coat are true, they’re gonna have to burn that escalator down and exorcise the ashes.

‘Graves’ desperately tries to pull the jacket out of the belt… When Francesfalls upon him, wailing away with fists, holding a wet napkin in one hand and muttering something about “Fred said this would happen.”

The two continue up the escalator, with Frances pummelling ‘Graves’, who can’t even lift his arm to block the blows as the escalator chews on more and more of ‘Graves’’ coat sleeve!

TODD: We’re entering the second floor, Jimmy! Which means that tower of tables is looking all the more promising!

As they reach the top of the escalator… the escalator hungrily growls, ready to eat ‘Graves’’s whole arm!

Frances keeps drunkenly wailing on ‘Graves’’ head…

‘Graves’, out of desperation, judo throws Marigold behind him off the elevator…

AND YANKS HIS ARM OUT OF THE JACKET!

‘Graves’ narrowly crawls to satisfy, untangling himself from the coat as the escalator CONSUMES IT WHOLE…

Before sputtering and dying!

A mall janitor walks up, places the out-of-order belt on the escalator and walks away.

TODD: Safety first kids!

STARS: Do you really need to put a safety belt on a broken elevator? Isn’t it just stairs now?

‘Graves’ crawls out of the escalator’s grip like a man escaping a burning building…

Only to walk face-first into a raging Frances Marigold, who scoops him off the floor and LAUNCHES him by the collar through the glass-and-chrome frame of a Sunglass Hut kiosk.

CRASH!!!

TODD: If Frances wins this match, his future’s gonna be so bright, he’ll need those shades!

As Graves groans in the wreckage, Frances pulls himself out of the heap. He pauses… spots a mostly-intact pair of mirrored aviators on a busted display rack, and slips them on with dramatic flair.

STARS: This man is marketing gold, Todd. Get him on a sticker, a poster, a coffee thermos—I don’t care!

TODD: If the drunken terminator aesthetic wasn’t already there, the sunglasses really do complete the picture.

Frances tilts the shades downward as ‘Graves’ lies in the wreckage of the Sunglass Hut… Marigold grabs him by the back of the neck and throws Graves into a Hot Topic, where Graves briefly rallies by choking Frances with a belt chain off a faux-punk mannequin, before eating a stomp onto a rack of vinyl Funko Pops.

They spill into Victoria’s Secret, where the fight turns surreal—lace and fury in equal measure. Graves uses a silk robe to attempt a surfboard submission, while Frances blindly flails, grabbing what turns out to be a scented candle, and SMASHES it into Graves’ ribs with a muted thunk.

TODD: He’s using Eau de Violence!

STARS: This might be the first bra-and-bloodbath in mall history! …Actually, no—second. Westfield, 2012.

The two men exhaustedly stumble out of the Victoria’s Secret, scraped raw and sweating, stagger near the second-floor railing, just over the ominous, teetering tower of tables two stories below!

TODD: They’re RIGHT ABOVE IT! That monument of plywood and bad ideas! Somebody stop this!

STARS: If anyone tries to stop this, they’re fired! Beyond fired! Super fired!

Frances wipes blood from his nose, the shades still clinging miraculously to his face. He pulls Graves into a clinch, grunting with effort as he sets up for something truly vile—arms wrapped tight, shoulders hunched low—

TODD: Wait, WAIT—he’s going for the No Cushion Piledriver?! FROM THE BALCONY?!

STARS: Oh my God… THE RATINGS! DO IT! DO IIIIIIIIIIT!

The crowd surges forward, gasping and screaming, phones raised, as Frances tries to heave Graves into position, right on the edge…

Just as Frances Marigold prepares to dump Micheal Graves from the heavens with a No Cushion Piledriver, Graves thrashes in desperation—a sudden back body drop sends Marigold tumbling onto but not over the railing!

TODD: HE’S STILL ON! He’s still ON! Marigold’s hanging on like a man trying to keep his soul in his body!

STARS: I know we joked on Marigold earlier for running on cartoon logic, but I *swear* he hung in the air for a second like Wil E. Coyote before clinging on to that railing!

Graves, bloodied and breathing hard, lunges at Marigold, smashing him with wild, panicked right hands. Frances groans and clings to the metal bar, blood dripping off his fingertips… before he throws his skull forward in one last brutal headbutt, knocking Graves’ mask askew and spinning him back.

Frances hauls himself back over the railing like a man climbing out of hell. Still wearing the cracked sunglasses. Still grinning.

TODD: Phew, close call for Frances, he was on the cusp of a twenty foot fall there… But somehow, some way, he manages to cling on and get away from the tower of tables!

STARS: Booooooo, GO BACK TO THE TABLES!

Marigold roars and CHARGES the broken Anarchy champion…

But Graves catches him in midair—a pure survival instinct—
DESPERATION COUNTER POWERSLAM!! Right onto the polished tile!

The echo is sickening.

TODD: That floor wasn’t meant to catch people. That floor was meant to look nice under flip-flops.

STARS: Flip-flops you can find at the Mall of America’s Designer Shoe Warehouse!

TODD: Jimmy, are you plugging even more products?

STARS: Hey, some of these people agreed to bonus pay if they came up! Someone’s gotta keep the lights on!

Graves, dazed, barely upright, hauls Frances back to his feet. But Frances shakes loose, and like a wounded bull, gore-rushes Graves again!

AND THEY BOTH GO OVER THE RAILING!

They dangle. Dangle.

The crowd SCREAMS.

Graves clings to the railing by one arm, his feet scrambling against air. Marigold is on his back, arms wrapped around Graves’ torso, trying to ride him to safety—or doom.

Graves slams a fist into Frances’ temple. Another. Frances’ grip loosens…

Graves looks down. Then at Frances. Then at the tower of tables below.

TODD: No. No, please don’t…

STARS: DO IT. DO IIIIIIIIIIIT!

Frances’ eyes flutter open. He sees Graves looking. He knows.

And then… he nods.

A slow, sadistic, accepting nod.

And he smiles.

TODD: Oh my god. He wants it. HE WANTS IT.

STARS: HE WANTS IT! ‘GRAVES’ WANTS IT. I WANT IT. DO IT!

Graves wraps a front facelock… steadies himself… LIFTS—

AND THEY BOTH GO OVER!!!

THE END!!! THROUGH THE TOWER OF TABLES!!!

CRAAAAAAAAAAASHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

WOOD SPLINTERS. METAL SNAPS. THE CROWD LOSES THEIR MINDS.

“HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!”

TODD: Oh my god… Oh my GOD…

STARS: …You ever picture something in your head and it wasn’t as good as you thought it would be live?

…

STARS: Doesn’t apply here. That was SPECTACULAR!

Officials swarm the wreckage. A medic drops his clipboard. A fan faints. Security tries to hold back the mob. Somewhere, a phone alarm is going off and no one knows whose it is.

TODD: The tower of tables is absolutely devastated! It’s just a pile of broken, collapsed wood! I can’t even see ‘Graves’ and Marigold in the debris!

The officials dig into the debris—

One of them spots something.

A hand. Draped across a body.

The referee checks. He counts.

ONE!

TWO!!

THREE!!!

Todd: “NO WAY! THERE’S A WINNER! THERE’S ACTUALLY A WINNER!”

WINNER:...




…



……







WINNER: ‘MICHEAL GRAVES’


Graves’ body is still, his arm draped over Marigold’s motionless chest.

Both men are unconscious. The masked face of Graves barely visible, cracked and crooked. Frances’ shades are still—somehow—on his face, one lens shattered.

The wreckage surrounds them like a modern art sculpture in tribute to absolute annihilation.

STARS: I don’t care how much this costs us in lawsuits… That’s the kind of performance I can build a damn brand on.

TODD: Well, ‘Graves’ wanted to be baptized in blood… And I gotta tell ya, this mall is buzzing with X-Treme fervor! This feels like an X-Treme Rules religious revival!

STARS: Quick, pass a collection plate around!


[Image: wireline.png]


ONE LAST LITTLE BREAK TO CLEAN UP ALL THE BLOOD -
WE MEAN PEOPLE JUICE


[Image: wireline.png]


TODD: Ladies and gentlemen… After all this time… it is now finally  time… for your MAIN EVENT! And it is a Twin-City Contendership Match!

The arena darkens as a golden spotlight hits the stage.

RING ANNOUNCER: Introducing first… hailing from TORONTO, ONTARIO, CANADA… He is the reigning XWF Revolution Champion… He is “THE ONE… THE ONLY… THE KING”… JUSTINNNNNNN YOOOOORK!



"One for the Money" hits the PA as golden pyro blasts from either side of the stage. Justin York emerges in a jewel-encrusted crown and white-gold jacket, soaking in the cacophony of boos with a devilish smirk. Draped in a Canadian flag and with the Revolution Championship glistening around his waist, York adjusts his crown, struts down the ramp, and refuses to acknowledge fans.

Behind him, walking with disinterest, is Pro-Wrestling Valor World Champion Alex Raven. Dressed in black, with the PWValor belt over his shoulder and a look of reluctant obligation, Raven walks at his own pace. He never smiles, never claps, never cheers.

STARS: There’s OUR champ! And he’s got Pro Wrestling Valor’s Champ with him! WELCOME TO INDEPENDENCE EVE ANARCHY - ALEXANDER RAVEN!!!

TODD: Why does he look like he doesn’t want to be here?

STARS: He doesn’t, Todd. Ninety-thousand pages. That’s how long his Valor contract is. And you know somewhere in there it says "Don’t smile at York. Don’t clap for York. Just stand around and make sure Bobby Bourbon doesn’t punch York."

TODD: Well, for one, absolutely not signing anything that’s 90 thousand pages long. Second, you honestly think this contingency was covered in Alexander Raven’s contract? That he’d one day have to play bodyguard for Justin York on an episode of XWF Anarchy?

STARS: Absolutely. He’s here, ain’t he?

York enters the ring, climbs the middle turnbuckle, and raises his arms high—middle fingers extended to the crowd.

TODD: The people are letting him have it tonight.

STARS: They don’t boo royalty unless they’re jealous, Todd. That’s why we had a revolution in the first place. It all starts with being ungrateful towards your King.

TODD: …

STARS: I mean, King Chucklefuck had it coming. King York has literally done nothing wrong.

TODD: Nothing. Right.

York hands off his crown and title to the timekeeper and loosens up in the corner, barking instructions to Raven, who stands stone-faced at ringside.

RING ANNOUNCER: And his opponent… representing the No Good Bastards… he is ONE HALF of the reigning Anarchy Tag Team Champions… THIS. IS. THUNNNNDERRRR KNUCKLESSSSSS!



"I need a Dollar - Good Things" rips through the Mall of America Rotunda as the silky smooth voice of Aloe Blacc hits the air. Thunder Knuckles marches through the curtain in his signature wraparound shades and mullet bouncing with every step. Beside him, clad in a neon fuchsia “SLUT” tee and purple camo shorts, is the ever-unpredictable Bobby Bourbon, hyping up the crowd with a fresh can of Industrial Road Goop.

TK snuffs out a cigarello before stomping toward the ring. He flips off a teenager in the front row, signs a woman’s cleavage with a Sharpie, and climbs onto the apron before slingshotting into the ring.

STARS: Let’s goooooo! That’s my fucking guy!

TODD: Of course you’re rooting for Thunder Knuckles.

STARS: That man co-invented Industrial Road Goop, Todd. That’s a hero if I ever saw one!

TODD: I’ve been trying to get the smell of that stuff out of my sinuses since earlier today.

STARS: Fuck your beta sinuses, Todd. That’s shit’s a miracle of modern chemistry. We could have used it to put out the fire, I bet.

TODD: Oh God… the smell would have been atrocious.

STARS: Not much better than what I deal with on the daily with YOU, Todd.

TODD: Nice.

TK poses in the center of the ring, flexing dramatically while Bobby yells at Raven from across the ringside area.

As the two competitors stare each other down, tensions rising…

The lights suddenly cut out.

TODD: What the hell?

STARS: Uh… power outage? One of those interns in the BourbCo kiosk trip the breaker again?

TODD: What do you mean, again?

STARS: Might have had some technical difficulties earlier.

TODD: I don’t think it’s that… listen!

"DEMONS" by Tech N9ne hits the speakers.

The crowd ERUPTS.

A massive burst of pyro lights up the entrance stage as a silhouette appears behind the flames.

STARS: OH MY GOD—

TODD: IT’S JAMES SHARK!

As the chorus drops, Shark struts out shirtless, chains swinging, smirk cocked like a loaded weapon. He talks trash the entire walk down the ramp, soaking in the mixed reaction from the crowd. He circles the ring, stares down York, flashes a grin, and slides behind the commentary table.

SHARK (grabbing a headset): Move the fuck over.

TODD: What are you doing here, Shark?

SHARK: The fuck it look like I’m doin’? I’m joining you hoes on the booth tonight. Jimmy extended the invite and I aint had nothin’ better to do. Besides, I’m tryna see if York still thinks he’s hot shit after I slept him last week.

STARS: Ladies and gentlemen, THEE James FUCKING Shark joins us on commentary for the main event!

SHARK: You welcome.

With all players in position—York, TK, Bourbon, Raven, and now James Shark—the referee signals for the bell.




TWIN CITY CONTENDERSHIP MATCH
(Non-Title)

"KING" JUSTIN YORK w/ PWV’s Alexander Raven at Ringside
- vs -
THUNDER KNUCKLES w/ TNGB’s Bobby Bourbon at Ringside

Singles w/Valet
If Thunder Knuckles wins: Gains Future Revolution Championship Opportunity
If Justin York wins: Gains Future Anarchy Tag Team Championship Opportunity


DING DING DING!

Thunder Knuckles charges across the ring like a missile, launching fists into York’s jaw before the Revolution Champion can even raise his guard. The crowd pops huge as the first volley connects clean. TK doesn’t let up—he bounces York off the ropes and flattens him with a big-time back elbow.

STARS: That’s what I’m talking about! TK didn’t come here to play footsies.

SHARK: York already eatin’ elbows, c’mon bruh, he lucky that wasn’t mines.

York rolls outside immediately to regroup, barking at Raven while holding his jaw. TK leans over the ropes and yells something about “free samples at the kiosk.” Bourbon circles like a vulture nearby, making sure Raven doesn’t so much as twitch in York’s defense.

Raven’s eyes lock on Bourbon, but he doesn’t move. He simply folds his arms and watches, the PWValor World Title glinting on his shoulder like an accessory he’d rather not have to explain.

York gets back onto the apron, only to eat a right hand that sends him crashing back to the floor.

TODD: Thunder Knuckles is out here treating the Revolution Champ like he’s a discount pretzel sample from Auntie Anne’s!

SHARK: That’s an insult to pretzels, homie.

STARS: He’s rattled, Todd! I told you—this is TK’s world. York just rents space in it and probably ends up paying like… AirBnB prices. Haha..

TODD: …

STARS: Shut up, Todd!

TODD: But I didn’t say anything?

Back in the ring, TK hauls York up by the hair and plants him with a stiff side suplex. He slides over for a lateral press, not for a pin, but to lean in and slap York right across the mouth. The crowd erupts again. York scrambles back to his feet and shoves TK hard. Thunder Knuckles smirks and winds up, but York ducks, spins, and nails a quick belly to belly suplex, taking the Bastard off his feet. York grabs the leg and kicks the back of the knee repeatedly, trying to ground TK.

TODD: Smart strategy by Justin York here. He’s targeting the base.

SHARK: Only thing York be good at is playin’ it safe.

STARS: Or playing it pretty. Look at that gear. I mean, we get it, right? You’re Canadian. You’re from Canada!

SHARK: Settle down, Jim.

TODD: You’re clearly trying way too hard to impress Mister Shark. Why don’t you relax a little?

STARS: Why don’t you shut the fuck up a little?

York traps the leg and drops an elbow across the thigh. He repeats it. Then transitions to a rolling knee bar, wrenching it in as TK thrashes. Bourbon climbs onto the apron, shouting, but Raven simply steps forward—cool and calm—and stares him down.

TODD: You’ve gotta admit, Raven’s keeping Bobby in check.

STARS: Yeah, but for how long? Bobby’s got the attention span of a flea.

SHARK: Don’t let those hideous clown shorts fool you. Bobby’s the dangerous one here.

TK finally rolls to the ropes. York breaks the hold, smirking like he just checkmated Magnus Carlsen. He struts back to the center ring, throwing up a finger-gun salute to Shark.

SHARK: That’s the same finger he digs in his butthole with. Look, he so proud of it. (Takes headset off momentarily) You can finger me all you want but I’m your daddy at the end of the day….. Shit, pause. (Slowly puts headset back on)

TODD: The tension here is palpable.

SHARK: Ya… whatever that mean.

STARS: It means Todd thinks you’re gonna bust these fools up any second now, Main Event or not!

York turns back to TK, who explodes upward with a huge uppercut—followed by a short-arm lariat that flips York inside out!

The crowd roars.

Bourbon loses his damn mind at ringside, flinging a free can of Industrial Road Goop into the crowd and offering even more freebies from the kiosk to anyone who is cheering his partner.

STARS: YES! DROP HIM AGAIN!

SHARK: Knock his ego loose so I can see it roll under the table.

STARS: I just wanted a free Road Goop.

TK pulls York up for the Full Nelson Slam, slamming him down hard and rolling straight into a cover...



ONE!



TWO!



TH-Kickout!

TODD: Near fall!

STARS: Yes Todd. We have eyes. We all saw how close that was! DUH!

TK doesn’t let up. He peels York off the mat, yanks him up by the waistband, and with a grunt and heave, he hoists York right up onto his shoulders, and launches him straight down onto the back of his neck with a stiff Alabama Slam!

The ring shakes. Raven raises an eyebrow. York doesn’t move after the vicious impact!

TODD: We might be looking at a new contender for the Revolution title right here!

SHARK: Good. I’ll hand TK the Revolution title myself if it gets York off my screen.

TK wipes sweat from his brow, nods to Bobby, and mouths the words: Let’s end this shit.

TK climbs to the top rope — rare territory for the Bastard — but York kips up and sprints toward him. A well-placed jumping enziguri staggers TK, and York leaps up after him. Superplex! The whole ring trembles as both men crash to the mat. York clutches his back in pain but scrambles over for a cover.



ONE!



TWO!!!




THR-Kickout!

York screams at the referee, slapping the mat in frustration.

TODD: Our Revolution Champion Justin York nearly snatched victory from the jaws of defeat here!

STARS: You love to see it. Except when it’s at Thunder Knuckles expense. I mean, I do like Justin York, I really do. I just wish we all could get along more.

SHARK: I think I heard TK say, “That’s it?” when he kicked out.

STARS: That man is low-key such a beast though.

TODD: That impact was vicious though! You can never count Justin York out of a fight!

York drags TK up and whips him to the ropes — but TK rebounds with a surprise leaping lariat that sends both men tumbling to the canvas.

On the outside, Bourbon gets the crowd behind TK by chanting “VALOR SUCKS!” as loud as possible. A small “PWV!” chant also breaks out from the top floor. It seems the fans inside the Mall of America here are divided as to what side they’re on.

TODD: They’re… the fans are chanting for both federations here. I think the takeover is officially in effect, James, Jim.

STARS: And they’re doing it at my show. So we obviously win! Right?

TODD: That’s… not how it works.

York crawls to the ropes, grabs them, and uses them to yank himself to his feet. TK lunges at him, but York low-bridges and TK tumbles to the outside, landing hard in front of Raven.

Raven looks down.

He does nothing.

Bourbon starts to move in, but Raven cuts him off with a single icy glare. Bobby looks like he might throw down with Alexander Raven right here, right now if Raven makes a move on TK. But Raven doesn’t seem to be interested in hindering, or helping, Thunder Knuckles in any way.

TODD: Raven doing his job—grudgingly, but effectively.

STARS: I think Bobby Bourbon just realized why the folks in Valor call Alex Raven ‘The Apex’. He needs to stop worrying about him and get over there and make sure TK is OK.

SHARK: Yeah, but Bobby ain’t got the balls to deck Alex. Not without readin’ page 45,331 of that contract first.

York waits until TK rises, then sprints and dives through the ropes — suicide dive! Both men crash into the guardrail. York pops up first and throws up double middle fingers to Shark.

SHARK: That’s cute. He upgraded to two fingers now. Butthole expanding and all. AY BRUH, I DON’T CARE - I’M THE REASON YOU NOT DOUBLE CHAMP!

York tosses TK back into the ring and calls for the end. He lifts TK for the Killzone — Canadian Brainbuster — but TK knees him in the head mid-lift! York drops him.

TK retaliates with a stiff boot to the gut and charges York for a massive double knee strike into the corner!

York eats turnbuckle and staggers backward into TK’s arms — SIDE RUSSIAN LEG SWEEP!

TODD: That might be it!

STARS: DO IT FOR STEVEN COOPER!

SHARK: WHO?

TK covers!



ONE!




TWO!!




THREE– no! YORK KICKS OUT AT 2 and 7/8ths!!

Thunder Knuckles looks up at the referee and for a moment, disagrees about the particular nature of the count. In the meantime, York rolls out of the ring, barely conscious, right to the feet of Alexander Raven.

SHARK: I told you! Bro’s got his boy to run to! Always something!

TK gets in the ref’s face, pointing at Raven. Raven, in the meantime, simply shrugs as he has done nothing to actually help his boss. Raven has literally nothing but stand there the entire time. Bourbon circles wide—he’s got a sausage link in one hand and a flask in the other.

York crawls under the ring.

TODD: What’s he doing—wait—

He emerges with a gold-plated steel chair. The same one he used against Shark two weeks ago.

STARS: Uh oh. That’s not an XWF-issued chair. I’d know, trust me.

SHARK: That’s my chair!

STARS: Oh really? Then why’d you leave it under my ring?

As TK turns around, York swings—TK ducks! Boot to the gut! The chair goes flying! TK lifts York— POWERSLAM ONTO THE GOLDEN CHAIR!

STARS: RIGHT ON THOSE INJURED RIBBIES! OH NO!

TODD: That’s it! That’s got to be a Disqualification!

STARS: Nah, we ain’t doing my boy TK like that! York brought the chair into the ring… it clearly just happened to accidentally be in the way of the mat during Knuckles’ thunderous slam!

TODD: He literally AIMED FOR IT!

STARS: PROVE IT!

TODD: I WATCHED IT WITH MY OWN TWO EYES!

Shark jumps up to his feet.

SHARK: Yo! End this shit!

York wobbles to his feet — he turns and charges towards TK! TK fires off with a superkick, NO! YORK DUCKS! He spins TK around and catches him with a kick to the gut. York goes to hook TK’s arms one at a time, he’s looking for the KINGS THRONE! HE LIFTS TK UP… NO! TK blocks it! He back body drops Justin York over… but YORK LANDS ON HIS FEET! YORK CHARGES FROM BEHIND-

BUT TK TURNS AND CATCHES HIM WITH A SNAP SUPERKICK RIGHT ON THE CHIN!

YORK HITS THE MAT LIKE A TON OF BRICKS!

TK FALLS ON TOP OF HIM!



ONE!




TWO!!



THREE!!!

DING DING DING!

WINNER AND FUTURE XWF REVOLUTION CHAMPIONSHIP TITLE OPPORTUNITY RECIPIENT: THUNDER KNUCKLES


STARS: THUNDER KNUCKLES DID IT! He earned his shot at the Revolution Championship!

SHARK: He better not cash it in while I’m watching.

Raven doesn’t react other than offering a golf clap. He just walks up the ramp, ignoring York laying on the mat.

TODD: Wait, is Shark—

Shark rips off his headset and slides into the ring. He gets face to face with Thunder Knuckles, with the Revolution Champion laying just beneath them.

SHARK: I’ll see you soon. The Revolution is bout to be mine. Ya feel me?

Shark stares down TK as Bobby moves forward to stand point right beside his tag team partner. Justin York is starting to come to and is handed his Revolution Championship title belt, but must look up at the three men standing above him, all ready to take another piece of each other whenever the opportunity strikes!

TODD: Thunder Knuckles wins tonight. But I’ve got a feeling he just lit another fuse… James Shark smells blood in the water!

STARS: What do you expect? It’s Anarchy! It’s Independence Eve… and the REVOLUTION of the Jimmy Stars era has just begun!

TODD: Ladies and Gentlemen, I’m Todd Moschitti and that’s Jimmy Stars… and that’s all the time we’ve got for this evening! SEE YOU IN TWO WEEKS FOR LEAP OF FAITH! GOODNIGHT!

STARS: Time to press the button?

TODD: What button?

The four men stand in opposite corners, none of them willing to budge…

When fireworks go off inside the Mall-

When they were supposed to go off outside the mall-

TODD: WHAT THE FUCK JIMMY?!

STARS: Damn unpaid interns. They’re as bad as fucking Nirvana, I swear!

As the XWF logo fades over the screen…


[Image: logo2-2.png]
Copyright © 2025 - The Xtreme Wrestling Federation - Established 1999
All Rights Reserved


[Image: wireline.png]


Another HUGE Thank You Goes To:

Match Writers/Support Staff:
YORKIE
IRDAWGS HERO
A BARRY MASTERSON REFERENCE?
LIAMS ALIVE, BEATING HEART <3
THAD DADDY
PAPA SHARK DO DO DODODO DO
& Jimmy Motherfuckin’ Stars

Segment Writers:
President Nickles (Charles for Short)
A No Good Bastard (Bobby B! & maybe TK! too!)
Double Moose (JY)
Daddeus Duke (TD)
The Black Rainbow - Doctor Cambric’s Orders!
Allegedly, Conceivably
Another Barry Masterson Reference?
Hammerhead Shark/Summer SZN

RPers:
You
Your friends
Your friends friends
And all the people who love and support your silly hobby

“Pfft. They’re missing a six-star classic. Oh well, their loss.”
See you in all at LEAP OF FAITH
Where we'll do it all again-
Much Love for you All-
Our XWF Community
]]>
The limo driver steps out, slowly but surely, dressed like in a black butler’s suit. He walks back to the rear passenger door, before opening it to reveal….

CHARLIE NICKLES!

The Nickleman steps out of the limo in a full suit of his own, with polished dress shoes and slicked-back hair to boot! A bevy of diamond-studded rings rest on The Nickleman’s fingers, but the ‘BIG GOLD’ rests perfectly upon his shoulder. Charlie stands tall once he’s out of the limousine, taking in a deep breath of fresh air: and revealing his brand-new set of pearly whites in the process!

A moment later, the driver moves to the rear lift of the hummer and hits a button. Hydraulic whirring cuts through the ambient noise. The lift lowers slowly, revealing Peter Principle, sitting in a motorized wheelchair. His facial expression is frozen with a look of disdain, his face completely paralyzed since The Black Rainbow’s attack. A slight sliver of drool drips down Peter’s chin as his hand rests upon a silver service bell bolted to the wheelchair’s armrest.

Charlie walks over and gently places a hand on Peter’s shoulder, leaning forward and towering over the now disabled General Manager.

“You ready to get back to work, boss-man?”

‘DING!’

Peter rings the bell once as a sinister grin curls across The Nickleman’s lips.

Charlie waves away the limousine driver before he wheels Peter into the building himself. The camera follows behind them at a low angle as the hummer drives off, capturing only the click of Charlie’s newly polished shoes and the steady whir of Peter’s new chair.



INDEPENDENCE EVE
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07 - 03 - 2025

LIVE FROM THE MALL OF AMERICA

BLOOMINGTON, MINNESOTA



INDEPENDENCE EVE MINI-TOURNAMENT

MISTER OZ
- vs -
RAZOR BLADE
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX

Triple Threat
Winner faces Winner of XXXVI vs KEETON at Leap of Faith
For the Number One Contendership to the Revolution Title


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INDEPENDENCE EVE MINI-TOURNAMENT

XXXVI
- vs -
JC KEETON

Singles
Winner faces Winner of Opening Triple Threat at Leap of Faith
For the Number One Contendership to the Revolution Title


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BIRTHDAY WISH MATCH

XWF Xtreme Championship
SOLOMON KLINE ©
- vs -
TOMMY WISH

Both Solomon and Tommy must declare a match rules stipulation of their choosing in their promotional material. Will they get their wish? Jimmy makes the final decision!

Singles? Maybe?


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HARDCORE HEAVEN

FRANCES MARIGOLD
- vs -
MICHEAL GRAVES (CONCEIVABLY)

(Non-Title) Tables Match
An ominously large stack of tables will be set up precariously, suspiciously, in a spot where someone might get thrown from the second floor balcony for a dramatic finish!


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TWIN CITY CONTENDERSHIP MATCH
(Non-Title)

"KING" JUSTIN YORK w/ Any Active PWValor Superstar of his Choosing at Ringside
- vs -
THUNDER KNUCKLES w/ TNGB’s Bobby Bourbon at Ringside

Singles w/Valet
If Thunder Knuckles wins: Gains Future Revolution Championship Opportunity
If Justin York wins: Gains Future Anarchy Tag Team Championship Opportunity




STARS: I gotta change that…

TODD: Change what?

STARS: That damn intro music.

TODD: Why?

STARS: …you know why.

Plumes of Blue and White pyrotechnics shoot out from tubes around the makeshift entry ramp on the stage and mark the start of our show! On this momentous occasion, the XWF has returned to the iconic MALL OF AMERICA for this “Independence Eve” edition of Thursday Night ANARCHY!!! Hundreds of fans surround the ring in the Huntington Bank Rotunda, both on the ground floor and the surrounding walkways of the floors above. Even still, there are hundreds, nay, millions more who are watching and streaming LIVE from their homes!!!

As soon as the pyros finish, "Lithium" by Nirvana hits over the speakers, officially welcoming XWF fans to yet another edition of their favorite syndicated full-contact wrestling show, which we lovingly refer to as "The A-Show".

The Anarchy announce team is at ringside, preparing for a night filled with action!!  With "Lithium" still playing over the speakers the cameras pan around to those few lucky and avid members of the Anarchy faithful from all ages, races, creeds & colors screaming on the tops of their lungs, proudly wearing their XWF Merchandise and holding up signs for their favorite (or least favorite) stars:


CAUSE MAYBEEEEE

THE STROM. IS. COMING. TO. THE GREAT AMERICA MALL..

YOUR HOUSE IS A WRECKED MERCEDESSS

SUMMER PAGE VS MARISOL VILARO 4(EVER)

I COULDN’T AFFORD #PWV TIX - NEXT BEST THING

AND AFTER ALLLLLL

OSWALD AUTEM SEPHTIS IS MY SLEEP PARALYSIS DEMON

LIVE. ON. THE XWF. AT. THURSDAY NIGHT. ANARCHOEVE!

WHAT DOES THE JC STAND FOR KEETON? HUH?!

YOU LIKE YOUNGER BALLSSSSSSS

MICHEAL GRAVES FOR PRESIDENT WHITMORE IN INDEPENCE DAY REBOOT

JIMMY SUX! #BRING BACK BARRY

BOBBY BOURBON OWES ME A KIDNEY - AND NOT ONE OF TK’S


The fans both sitting and standing in this unique venue are murmuring and ready to get the five match card of XWF’s Anarchy underway! Many have been waiting patiently for the start of the show for quite a while, but on the periphery there are several hundred civilians just trying to enjoy a night at the nation’s largest mall, some of whom have never witnessed professional wrestling action in their entire miserable lives.

The hard cam pans around the Rotunda catching glimpses of the excitement and of the confused looks from the elderly couple who had just left The GAP moments prior.

TODD: Ladies and Gentlemen welcome to THURSDAY NIGHT ANARCHY! As always, I am your host Todd Moschitti, and alongside me is, what I hope isn’t becoming a trend, my new broadcast partner for the evening, our kinda esteemed general manager... Jimmy Stars.

STARS: Fuck you too, Todd.

TODD: Wow, so we’re going to start off the evening on the right foot, hmm?

STARS: You’re doing this on purpose.

TODD: Doing what on purpose?

STARS: You know the Mall of America rental contract has limited me to only using seven curse words for the entirety of tonight’s show. If we go over, I get a huge fine for ‘damaging their brand’ or whatever. As if Maiden Dixie is going to back out if I don’t clean up my act. This is total bullsh… crap!

TODD: And the problem is?

STARS: The problem is, I’ve already used one of my seven curses, and that’s entirely your fault!

TODD: I don’t see how that’s my problem.

STARS: How about I make it your damn problem? Wait… does damn count?

TODD: Yes.

STARS: Fuck!

TODD: That’s four.

STARS: FU-

Jimmy quickly covers up his microphone as he goes into a tirade.

TODD: Listen, while you have your little conniption off-mic, and preferably off-screen, I’d like to actually talk about the show you’ve put together for the fans here tonight. This one’s really leaning into the hardcore roots of the Xtreme Wrestling Federation and I’m looking forward to seeing how it’s all going to play out here.

STARS: It’s Independence Eve, baby. Tomorrow’s the fourth of July, but the fireworks are going to begin tonight! The Storm is coming to take on each other and Mister Oz in a triple threat match. And then JC Keeton is going to take on not 34, not 35, but 36 other competitors just to see if he can make it to the Leap of Faith final!

TODD: Well, no. JC Keeton is going to take on XXXVI.

STARS: That’s what I said.

TODD: But yes, the winners of the first two matches tonight will go on to face each other at Leap of Faith for the chance to be deemed the number one contender to the Revolution Championship.

STARS: Yes Sir. We’ve got to build the brand. Put some stakes on the line. Make our champions more vetted and have our championships feel earned. And this is how you do it: you gotta start by building the divisions individually. Being the number one contender is going to mean something after this mini-tournament. And I don’t care what 36, 37, or 38 says. Whoever earns this gets to write the fricken narrative. I only offer opportunities.

TODD: Yes. Between Latoya, Razor, Oz, JC, and XXXVI, only one can be the number one contender, and then what?

STARS: Then either the contender gets their shot or if someone else wants a shot at the Revolution title, they’ve got to go through the number one contender first AS IT SHOULD BE.

TODD: Is.. Is Peter Principle catching strays here?

STARS: NO?! Dear god man, absolutely not! Rest in Peace, Peter. I mean, get well soon. It’s 2025, you hate to see a man get waterboarded like that. I mean, I’m not here to judge. But do that kinda thing in private next time.

TODD: He was attacked by the Black Rainbow!

STARS: Sorry. I only caught the tail end of it. Wasn’t he trying to steal from the vending machine?

TODD: Ugh. No. You actually think Peter Principle used his face to break into the vending machine?

STARS: I mean, I wouldn’t have used my face. But the evidence was clearly there-

TODD: Then next we have the “Birthday Wish” match between Solomon Kline and Tommy Wish. Happy Birthday to the kid, by the way. How old is he?

STARS: Tommy? He ain’t no kid. He’s like at least 40 something.

TODD: No, It’s Solomon’s birthday.

STARS: OH! Then why the hell did I book a Birthday Wish match? His last name ain’t wish!

TODD: The good lord above couldn’t answer the question as to why you do things, Jimmy.

STARS: Anywho, yep. Gotta admit, you ain’t wrong about that. But I do promise you that I’ve taken their wishes under intense advisement, and after careful scrutiny, I have come up with a decision.

TODD: Which is?

STARS: That the match stipulation, will be-

TODD: Yeah?

STARS: Announced before the match.

TODD: …

STARS: But hey, good news, now it’s for the 24/7 Xtreme Title!

TODD: Fortunate, indeed, for the young Kline, who I believe is 27.

STARS: His name is 36. Not 27. And no, that’s not Kline under that mask. I’ve seen them both in catering together. Rules that out entirely.

TODD: I wasn’t saying that he’s literally XXXVI! I’m saying that he turned 27… oh, to hell with it.

STARS: Hell better not count against us. Hell is a place.

TODD: Sitting next to you is also a similar place. But after that match, whatever it may end up being, Hardcore Icon Frances Marigold will take on the Anarchy Champion Micheal Graves in a Hardcore Heaven match! I see you’ve got tables stacked up from here to the second floor already for that one.

STARS: You know how many unpaid interns we lost today to get that tower built?

TODD: Excuse me?

STARS: Too many.

TODD: …what do you mean by… lost?

STARS: The letters have already been mailed to their families, Todd. But if you ask me, how hard is it really to stack tables?

TODD: That’s… not very reassuring at all. I’d like to see you stack one table. One!

STARS: Whatever. I expect this match to go places, literally. They’re going to need to fight up to the second floor, at least, to win the match. So while hell IS a place, Heaven is also a place and it’s right here on the flat, hollow, planet disc Earth!

TODD: A fall from that height could kill a man, or at the very least seriously injure him and risk his entire career and way of life.

STARS: Rumor has it the day Frances was born the doctor accidentally dropped him out a fifth floor hospital window. He unironically likes Nirvana. He should be fine.

TODD: And our Anarchy Champion Micheal Graves?

STARS: He has plenty of goons to break his fall. Peter Parkour probably taught him how to ‘flip out of it’. That or the cat taught him how to land on his feet.

TODD: You can’t just… I can’t even… how is a man supposed to flip out of being driven down through a dozen or so tables to the concrete floor below?

STARS: Don’t.

TODD: What do you mean, don’t?

STARS: Don’t try to.

TODD: One of them has to take the fall, asshole!

STARS: YOU SON OF A BITCH! YOU’RE WASTING MY SEVEN CURSES YOU FUCK!

TODD: Who fucking cares about your fine? You won’t pay for it anyway! The XWF will pick up the tab for you AS PER USUAL.

STARS: True. Didn’t think about it like that. Fuckin’ gonna be a great night. I can fuckin’ feel it.

TODD: UGH. MOVING On- The main event has our Revolution Champion Justin York taking on one half of our Anarchy Tag Team Champions Thunder Knuckles in a self-proclaimed bucket-list match. Thunder Knuckles will have Bobby Bourbon in his corner… dare I ask who among the Pro Wrestling Valor roster will be in York’s corner?

STARS: No clue.

TODD: You’re the General Manager. What do you mean you don’t have a-

STARS: Hey listen. Double Moose is playing this one close to the chest. And I’m gonna let him. Cause at the end of the day, one of these guys is going to earn a shot to face the other for some stakes a little bit larger than what I could provide here tonight. And I’m fine with that.

TODD: The implications are huge. If York wins, I suppose he has to pick a partner to face Them No Good Bastards for a shot at the Anarchy Tag Team Championships.

STARS: Could it be… JC Keeton? Could it be… Thaddeus Duke?

TODD: No and no.

STARS: Could it be… the PWV superstar coming out as his muscle tonight?

TODD: Possibly. Which would only add fuel to the Valor takeover fire.

STARS: Ooh, that would be fun.

TODD: But if TK picks up the victory, that means he gets a future title opportunity at the Revolution Championship. And what does that mean?

STARS: That means Thunder Knux might get the match he wanted after all, of course. But with a new number one contender being named at Leap of Faith, I guess it depends on when TK can get that shot if it’s going to be a one on one or a triple threat.

TODD: That’s… that’s incredibly devious.

STARS: Oh, I’m aware. But the fans pay to see these fuckers beat the shit out of each other, and I’m more than fucking happy to oblige.

TODD: You’re definitely getting fined now.

STARS: Who gives a fuck? It’s fucking INDEPENDENCE EVE ANARCHY BABY!! LETS FUCKING GOOOOO!!!


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“One for the money” by Escape the Fate hits the sound system and the lights go dim. The fans are already booing and tossing garbage as they anticipate the arrival of the one and only Justin York.

TODD: Wait a minute. That’s Justin York’s music. He’s not set to come out until the main event later this evening.

STARS: That’s usually when Main Events do happen, Todd. Duh.

TODD: Whatever. All I’m saying is that, for some reason, the Revolution Champion is out here now, and I think it’s pretty safe to say that the XWF fans here in the Mall of America are not so happy to see him!

STARS: Well, I’m not happy to see them throwing their shit in my ring. That’s uncalled for!

A spotlight hits the top of the stage and he stands directly in it and before long the spotlight turns teal. He raises his arms and takes the crown off of his head and places it on the stage and then takes his signature maple leaf skull mask off and unsteady the Revolution title from his waist and holds it with one arm above his head and pyro explodes all over the set.

TODD: For once, I agree with you. It’s completely dangerous. Unsafe for the superstars and the fans sitting around the ring and-

STARS: Now I’ll have to pay the cleanup crew overtime!

TODD: …nevermind.

STARS: Don’t mention that fucking album’s name ever again.

TODD: Album? What are you talking about?

The lights come back on and York saunters down the stage paying no mind to any of the fans as he normally would. A bandage adorns his head and his ribs are taped up from the attack at PWV’s Ground Zero PPV by Cyrus Braddock.

TODD: I know Kieran King did a number on York and Shark two weeks ago. But I didn’t think it was that bad.

STARS: Tell me you haven’t watched PWV Ground Zero without telling me you haven’t watched PWV Ground Zero.

TODD: I don’t work for Pro Wrestling Valor, why should I?

STARS: Because they’re pulling out some AMAZING action, Todd! Because you’d KNOW what happened to OUR Revolution Champion Justin York if you DID watch it! AND because they’re a trusted sponsor of tonight’s broadcast! 

TODD: You mean to tell me-

STARS: That’s right! XWF Independence Eve Anarchy is brought to you by: PW Valor Ground Zero! Pre-order your digital copy today!

TODD: …

He climbs into the ring and is immediately handed a microphone.

TODD: …and now we’ve got to listen to him speak. Great.

STARS: Put some respect on our sponsor’s name!

York taps three times on the microphone before hollering into it.

JY: Cut the fucking music.

York hangs his title over the top rope.

JY: Straight to business. That nimrod King Kieran thought he was wise to take a shot at Shark and I while nobody was paying attention, what’s so kingly and royal about that? I digress, that’s for Shark to deal with.

TODD: Does Justin York have anything nice to say about anyone?

STARS: He’s nice to me!

TODD: That… makes sense, somehow.

STARS: Just like it’s really nice of Justin York to let James Shark handle Kieran King. What benevolence!

TODD: What horseshit.

JY: James Shark, I give you a round of applause, you put the nail in the coffin of this little rivalry we had and EARNED my respect, go kill Kieran and whoever you see fit! Maybe we’ll meet again one day but for now that chapter is closed.

TODD: That’s not for him to decide thou-

STARS: Shush!

York saunters around the ring and gives his head a scratch.

JY: That curly headed freak, Keeton thinks he’s all that and a fucking bag of potato chips because he beat a glorified John Blade. NOBODY and I mean nobody watches this program for YOU. Just offering a little reality check. Notice you’re at the bottom of the card and where I am? There’s a reason for that. Your match was over before I even arrived to the building. Who knows whether you won or lost tonight but the fact of the matter is this, you’ll fizzle out and disappear like you always do, it’s ingrained in you. It’s your identity.

York takes a seat on the top turnbuckle and taps on the microphone again. The crowd boos the shit out of him and for the first time in a moment he offers a grin.

JY: We’re still live, get fucking used to it. Cyrus Braddock, you big dumb shit. There’s truthfully nothing between your ears but air and opportunity. I’ll give you credit, you took your shot and hit. I’ll instantly discredit you for having balls the size of tic tacs because you don’t make a move without Thad’s blessing. A guy your size taking orders from that fucking toolbox? It tracks though. I’m not even gonna waste my time calling you out because I know for a fact you aren’t here as Thad tells you when to heel and when to fetch like a fucking golden retriever.

York chuckles to himself.

JY: What I’m really here to address and get off my back is the giant elephant in the room. You got me Thad, got me real good.

York touches the bandage on his head from the golden shovel shots as well as pats himself in the sternum where his ribs are firmly taped also from the same assault.

JY: What you’ve done in the process is prove what I’ve been saying since the very beginning. You refuse to fight your own battles, to answer any challenge that you aren’t certain that you can win and decisively. You know that isn’t the case here so you’re trying to tip the scales as far in your favor as possible. I can’t blame you, why would you want to tarnish your reputation by losing against a guy that you’ve talked down on for years and years.

TODD: So York is all messed up because Braddock attacked him on Ground Zero? And he did this under order of Thaddeus Duke?!

STARS: DUH! Get with the program, Todd!

JY: I’ve done just about everything that you couldn’t do, although I sound like I’m beating a dead horse, it's the truth. I’ve turned anarchy into a brand that is meaningful, not Bashmaster, not Jimbo, not Syn, nobody especially you and that’s for damn certain. 

STARS: HEY!

TODD: Hahaha. So much for him being nice to you.

STARS: …my name isn’t Jimbo dammit…

JY: I put it on my back since the day I walked in and turned this shithole around for the better while also offering an alternative for fans to tune into in the form of Pro Wrestling Valor. You’ve been nothing short of ungrateful, to me and to the fans that line yours and this company's pockets. You haven’t shown your face on anarchy in a blue moon. So I have a proposition that’ll not only appease these fans but will prove and give you the chance to show that you still have some sort of guys and courage left in your frail old body.

TODD: Oh, I don’t like the sound of this.

STARS: Let’s hear the man out first.

York hops off the turnbuckles and leans against the top rope facing the stage.

JY: Bring your ass down here and let’s fucking fight, man to man, one on one!

The crowd roars at the thought of Thad and York fighting right here tonight.

JY: Sure I have the main event to perform later tonight but I’m not gonna have ten seconds worth of trouble to whoop your ass all over this pathetic and filthy town. Unless of course you’re afraid of a battered and broken JY?

York grins as the crowd continues to boo his arrogance.

JY: Exactly what I thought, just like your puppy dog, you don’t have the SACK——

Thaddeus Duke, XWF COO and all the other things, steps through the curtain and to the entrance way without any pomp and circumstance to a loud roar from the XWF Universe.

TODD: OH MY GOD! THADDEUS DUKE IS HERE!

STARS: OH SHIT.

TODD: OUR COO! THE ONE AND ONLY THADDEUS DUKE!

STARS: I didn’t think he’d actually… shit shit shit-

TODD: JIMMY THIS IS- wait… Jimmy-

Todd looks up to see Jimmy’s headset bounce off of the announce table, and the back of a hoveround as it makes its way through the crowd and out into the mall at large.

TODD: Well, I guess Jimmy left us. Thank goodness!

TD: Are you done yet?

York goes to reply.

TD: Don't answer that dumbass, it's rhetorical.  For 3, maybe 4 years now, you've been suckin on my nuts tryna get my attention.

York goes to cut him off.

TD: Shut up, Yorkie. I'm not finished. Everytime you open your mouth, it's nothin but lies and half truths all the while you're callin me out to dance.

York goes to speak again but he's got a dead mic.

TODD: Thaddeus shut York’s microphone off! This night just keeps getting better and better!

TD: If you think tryna brand me as a coward or that I somehow fear you when a couple of years ago I dog walked you in about seven minutes at Denzel Porters Invitational, then my friend you got some wires crossed.

TODD: Now, I do remember that one. That match, perhaps the spark that ignited this entire feud, highlighted the differences between these two company figureheads. And yes, Thaddeus Duke absolutely destroyed Justin York. 

TD: Now, that said, I do owe you an apology.  Yorkie, I sent Cy Braddock to give you the attention your parents obviously never gave you as a puppy, but it was not my intention for him to put you in the hospital.

Simple minds sometimes fall off the rails.

See, you've been begging for my attention thinking that somehow you coming to Anarchy and becoming the star you wished you always were but never really had the talent to accomplish, is somehow offensive to me.

If it was up to me, everyone on this roster would thrive like you had been.

Your arrogant claims of being the reason Anarchy is as popular as it has grown has… honestly… something to do with you, I'll grant you that much, but not everything.  Anarchy is growing and thriving because I hired Bat Masterson.

TODD: Bashmaster?

TD: And then because I hired Jimmy Wheelchair.

STARS (shouting from behind a kiosk): IT’S A HOVEROUND DELUXE MOBILITY SCOOTER YOU F-!

TD: To answer your challenge… I dog walked you once, Yorkie.  If I liked easy wins, I'd have kept my ass in AAW.

MIC DROP - EXIT

TODD: Is that… it? Did Thaddeus Duke just tell Justin York… no?

The motor of the Hoveround can be heard as Jimmy drives back to the commentary table.

STARS: Is he… is Duke finally gone?

TODD: Yeah, he went back to the back, why?

STARS: It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it, shitbrick.

TODD: Haha, you’re scared of the boss. Even I have to give Justin York credit though, there’s not a cell in his body that seems fearful of Thaddeus Duke, even though he should be.

STARS: I’m not scared! I just… I can’t… whatever! York looks pissed, like he should be. And I don’t blame him. Why make all of the effort to come here to Independence Eve Anarchy just to say no?! Who’s the real chicken shit here?

TODD: It’s still you, Jimbo.

STARS: UGH. I’m this close to firing your ass, Todd. I swear to God.

TODD: What’s stopping you?

STARS: I haven’t drawn your name out of the firing hat… yet.

TODD: Well, whatever. It’s going to be one hell of a main event tonight, but we can’t get there until we start the action, so while Justin York has to wait until later to get his fight on, lets get ours on… right now!


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The crowd are seen chatting amongst one another when the lights suddenly go out in the arena, 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.

TODD: What?!? No freaking way! Is he here? Is Razor Blade in the building?!?

…

TODD: These are the questions that less professional announcers seem to ask whenever Razor Blade heads to the ring.

STARS: It’s embarrassing, Todd. Thankfully, this duo on Anarchy is able to keep our heads on straight for a routine entrance.

Smoke emanated from the stage, 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.

TODD: While he was scheduled to compete and is not a major surprise on the card, what IS surprising is how impressive Razor looked on Warfare! He went to war with his long-time partner Latoya Hixx, claiming an emphatic victory by executing the Diamond Blade off the entrance ramp to secure a victory!

STARS: It was a breakout performance for Razor… But, after a hit like that, you either ride that success to the next hit, or let yourself fade as a one-hit wonder. Razor did what some thought he could never do, strung together a win. But, can he make it two?

''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 suits as he knelt down, tapping the ramp with his fist, jumping up to his feet as he extended his arms out.

''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 down the ramp, high fiving members of the crowd in the front row before going over and doing the same thing on the other side of the ramp. Razor walked down the rest of ]the ramp, stopping at the end of it as he looked around before walking towards the steel steps. He glanced down at them, before tapping them with his hand as he raised his arms trying to pump up the crowd before walking up the steel steps as he scaled the turnbuckle, looking around before extending his arms as even more pyro went off on the stage. Razor hopped down into the ring.

STARS: Is the adrenaline in your soul, Todd?

TODD: Uhm. Yeah, sure. I’m always pumped for Anarchy, Jimmy.

STARS: Good answer-

TODD: Thanks, Jimmy.

STARS: -for a loser!

TODD: Ugh.



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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!

TODD: Jimmy, imagine going through a war like Latoya did on Warfare with Razor, her brother-in-arms… Waging unspeakable violence on someone you’ve developed this trust and partnership with… and then, days layer, you’re competing together met AGAIN, this time in a triple-threat match. What do you think is going through Hixx’s head right now?

STARS: The “Pop Goes the Weasel” song. Hixx ain’t working with a full toolbox and getting dropped on her head off the ramp on Warfare couldn’t have helped matters much. But, watch for her to make a choice early. Is she gonna team with Razor to try and secure this Revolution title opportunity between them? Or is it every man, woman and Oz for themselves?

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!

TODD: That’s not very nice.

STARS: If you think I’m mean, you should wait until you see this man!



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: Now… Yes, this match includes the ongoing saga of American Storm… but the monster looming over this match… has gotta be Mister Oz.

STARS: No doubt, Toddy. Oz has been on a WARPATH. He shredded Damian Santos into carnitas strips last Anarchy!

TODD: And Oz has sworn that he will become a two-time Revolution champion! Step one is winning tonight’s match. But he has two obstacles ahead of him, in the form of American Storm…


INDEPENDENCE EVE MINI-TOURNAMENT

MISTER OZ
- vs -
RAZOR BLADE
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX

Triple Threat
Winner faces Winner of XXXVI vs KEETON at Leap of Faith
For the Number One Contendership to the Revolution Title


The bell rings and Razor Blade immediately clenches his fists, bouncing on the balls of his feet with that signature wide-eyed, never-back-down expression. His lips curl into a confident sneer as he charges toward Mister Oz—his face the picture of overzealous determination.

At the same time, Latoya Hixx lets out a guttural yell, her brow furrowed like a bull seeing red. She barrels forward toward Oz as well, arms swinging like wrecking balls.

TODD: Looks like Storm IS still a United Front, coming at Oz like a pair of lumberjacks taking down a redwood!

STARS: Wise. They’re trapped in there with an absolute monster, not really a great time to be figuring out their personal beef.

Oz stands motionless at first, one brow arched in amusement, arms spread slightly—welcoming the oncoming assault like it’s an offering. His chin lifts, eyes closed for a half-second as if receiving the faith of these two zealots.

But just as Razor leaps into the air with a flying forearm and Latoya winds up a massive haymaker—

Oz erupts, both eyes flashing open with fire. His arms shoot up like battering rams, catching Razor midair with shocking ease, before launching him into Latoya, knocking both challengers to the mat in a tangled heap.

STARS: Oh my God! That man is a literal human catapult! You know how much merch we could sell if he came with a launch button!? Hang on, I’m calling XWF’s toy department…

TODD: Unbelievable strength from Mister Oz!

Latoya pushes herself up first, snarling, face twisted in confusion and fury. She charges again with a war cry, her fists hammering toward Oz’s broad back. Razor follows, holding his ribs but fueled by pride and adrenaline, nodding to himself in an unspoken vow to never back down.

Oz’s eyes dart between them with measured calm—a man surveying ants.

He grabs Latoya with one hand by the wrist, the other hand snatching Razor by the waistband of his tights—and in a single, fluid motion, tosses both of them into opposite corners like they’re made of foam.

Latoya’s face smashes into the turnbuckle, her expression briefly dazed, while Razor hits back-first against the corner, his face scrunching with pain—but still, he tries to smile through it, even staggering out with arms raised in a "come on then" gesture.

TODD: Oz is single handedly ragdolling both of them! This is domination! This is brutality!

STARS: This is a license to print money! A golden goose! Think action figures, NFTS, an HBO miniseries!

Mister Oz’s expression finally hardens. He exhales slowly through his nose, as if tired of their weakness, and locks his cold gaze on Razor Blade. Razor nods, raising his dukes, daring Oz to advance.

Oz obliges.

He snatches Razor from the corner with zero hesitation, yanking him into a waistlock. Razor’s face contorts with fear for the first time as Oz launches him backwards with a massive German Suplex!

Razor lands high on his shoulders, rolls through, and barely starts rising before Oz re-hooks him, face blank, breath even—another German Suplex! Razor’s limbs go limp momentarily.

TODD: Two in a row! He’s going for the full six!!

STARS: Sextuple German Suplex!

But just as Oz hoists Razor up for the third—

Latoya roars back to life.

Her face a mix of rage and desperation, she throws herself at Oz, clubbing him across the back with forearm after forearm. Razor takes this opening to scramble into the ropes, cradling them to his chest, doing anything he can to not get thrown once more.

Meanwhile, Latoya’s blows are fierce, wild, unchecked—her eyes wide with frustration that this mountain of muscle hasn’t crumbled yet.

Oz grits his teeth for the first time. A crack in the god’s patience.

He turns his head slowly toward Latoya, eyes burning.

With a sudden pivot, he hooks Latoya instead into a waistlock, and whips her into a German Suplex of her own! Her legs fly over her head as she crashes down.

TODD: Now he’s doing the sequence to Latoya!!

STARS: Everyone’s catching suplexes! You get a suplex! YOU get a suplex!

Oz grabs her again, lifting for the second—

But this time, it’s Razor Blade who throws himself forward in desperation, clutching the ropes for balance. His face is dripping sweat, chest heaving—but he throws a weak chop to Oz’s chest with all the fire he has left.

SMACK!

Oz doesn’t flinch.

He turns toward Razor, eyes wide, mouth slowly curling into an unholy grin.

Oz shoves an exhausted Latoya to the mat! Then, like a divine punishment, he grabs Razor again, reapplying the waistlock.

TODD: Oh no. Oh no! He’s back on Razor! It’s starting over!

Razor’s eyes go wide in horror as Oz begins to lift—

But Latoya, breathless and barely upright, screams and hurls herself at Oz’s back once more.

This time, Oz doesn’t let go.

With both arms locked around his two stunned opponents, Oz roars—a primal bellow that shakes the rafters. His body tenses, veins bulging from every limb—

And then—

HE GERMAN SUPLEXES BOTH OF THEM AT ONCE.

STARS: OH. MY. BRANDING.

TODD: That was a simultaneous German Suplex on Razor Blade AND Latoya Hixx! How is that even humanly possible!?

STARS: It’s not, Todd! That’s the point! Oz is performing MIRACLES in that ring!

Both Razor Blade and Latoya Hixx lie scattered on the mat like scrapheap wreckage—arms splayed, chests heaving, faces blank with exhaustion. Mister Oz stands alone in the center of the ring, towering above them, his breathing controlled, expression unreadable. He surveys the wreckage of his sermon with cold serenity, as if awaiting divine instruction on which soul to claim.

His eyes settle on Razor Blade.

Oz’s lips twitch into something that almost resembles mercy—or is it disappointment?

He stoops, gripping Razor’s arm and yanking him upright with frightening ease. Razor barely stays on his feet, legs wobbling like overcooked spaghetti. Oz threads Razor’s arm between his own legs, grabbing him around the waist—

TODD: He’s going for the pumphandle slam! That might be the exclamation point on this match!

But as Oz begins the lift—

Latoya Hixx rises behind him, face contorted with defiance and desperation. She clenches her jaw, charges forward—and fires a brutal low blow right between Oz’s legs!

Oz freezes. His arms go slack. His jaw drops in an anguished snarl.

STARS: …Good lord. Right in the family jewels…

TODD: That might be the smartest thing Latoya’s ever done in a match!

Oz stumbles forward—

CRACK!

Latoya follows up immediately, leaping into the air with a massive Bicycle Kick that explodes against Oz’s temple, sending the giant crashing to one knee like a king struck down mid-coronation.

Latoya turns to Razor, eyes wide, barking orders like a tank commander under fire.

TODD: Look at that! If there were fears American Storm couldn’t reunite after they battled on Warfare, dismiss them! Latoya has bailed out Razor and is asking him to help her take down Oz!

Razor stumbles upright, eyes wide with adrenaline. He nods, panting, hands on his knees.

Latoya spins back toward Oz—

And Razor hits…

LATOYA  from behind with Blade Rose—a sudden, savage rolling cutter!

Hixx’s skull slams her face-first into the mat.

STARS: Betrayal! That was his ride-or-die! His muscle! His tag-team enabler!

TODD: Razor Blade just stabbed Latoya Hixx in the back with Blade Rose! He knows only one of them can get the Revolution title shot and he’s decided it’s his time!

STARS: Razor might steal this one by pinning Latoya again!

Razor scrambles over her prone body, hooks the leg, shouting at the ref.

1…

Tw-Before the ref can even call “two,” Oz is there—slamming his forearm into Razor’s back.

Razor rolls off with a yelp, stunned, looking up as Oz rises again from one knee like a prophecy fulfilled. His eyes are wild now, nostrils flared. No longer tranquil. No longer divine.

Just wrath.

Latoya rolls out of the ring, clutching her face, crumpling to the floor.

Razor, panicked, tries to scramble away—but Oz grabs him by the jaw, dragging him upright with one hand.

And then—

Oz stuffs his hand deep down Razor Blade’s throat.

TODD: I FAILED YOU!

Razor flails, his eyes bulging, legs kicking as Mister Oz clamps the Mandible Claw deep into his gullet with fingers like iron.

Razor stumbles backward, trying to fight it… He shoves back on Oz with everything he’s got…

But Oz

Is

Just

Too Strong.

Ozzy marches forward, forcing Blade down.

Down.

Down.

Razor collapses to his knees.

Then to his back.

The referee slides in.

One!



Two!!




Thr..ee!!!

WINNER: MISTER OZ


Oz releases the hold slowly, staring blankly down at Razor’s twitching body.

The arena lights dim slightly, catching the faintest shimmer in his skin as he rises his arms, victorious.

TODD: Razor Blade betrayed Latoya… and still came up short.

STARS: There’s no shame in losing to a MONSTER, Todd. But there is shame in getting divinely strangled in the mouth.


[Image: wireline.png]


CUT TO: BACKSTAGE


We cut to a shot of Anarchy GM Jimmy Stars’ office. The camera is already rolling as Anarchy Assistant General Manager the ol' Wheel And Dealer flips through the night’s run sheet. He mumbles quietly to himself about various stipulations and contracts, when his closed door suddenly bursts wide open! Wheel and Dealer doesn’t seem to notice, however, as he continues going about his duties.

WD: “Probably should have the fire department on standby for this one… Hmm…”

Charlie Nickles swaggers in like he owns the place, using Peter’s wheelchair to forcibly open the GM’s door. Peter looks stiff as ever in his wheelchair, his body barely moving a muscle. Peter’s empty-eyed gaze remains firmly pointed in whichever direction Charlie happens to be pointing his wheelchair. WD’s jaw drops as he sees the condition of the Warfare General Manager.

WD: “Sorry, GM’s office is closed for the evening. And no, I don’t care what you did to Peter, that’s Warfare business and I’m not here to babysit.”

“Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy... it’s not what I did. It’s what YOU and the rest of the XWF LET HAPPEN….”

Wheel and Dealer looks perplexed initially, but then decides, ahh, what the hell? Let’s go with it.

WD: “Yes. I am Jimmy Stars, Charlie. One-hundred percent. The guy in the Hoveround that talks too much. Tell me, what exactly have I let happen precisely?”

Charlie rolls Peter Principle into the center of the office, then just abandons the chair as he himself walks forward to sit directly across from the faux Anarchy GM.

“As soon as Pride Month ended, The Rainbow Warriors viciously attacked our beloved Peter Principal- injecting him with all sorts of foreign chemicals…you know, poppers and the like!

But as the Universal Champion of the XWF, it is my duty to preserve the order and sanctity of this company...even if that means picking taking on new roles and obligations in the face of personnel limitations.”

’DING!’

Peter Principle stares ahead aimlessly as he dings the bell on his wheelchair. Wheel and Dealer looks between Charlie and Peter with a slack jaw, clearly taken aback at the situation.

“As the reigning Universal Champion- and the new ACTING General Manager of Warfare-“

WD: “Come again?”

The Nickleman leans back in the chair with a smug grin on his face.

“Oh, you heard me right Jimmy! Peter signed the paperwork yesterday- it’s already official.”

WD: “Not to call you a liar, but I doubt Peter signed anything. He looks like an extra on the walking dead. Get him to the local hospital and leave him there.”

‘DING. DING.’ Peter dings his bell twice.

”See? Two dings! For ‘no’! He’s fine!

Even though his face is perfectly still… something very subtle in his expression indicates the idea of being away from the XWF right now would revile Peter.

WD: “...Look, even if you’ve worked out a ding system… Peter should be checked by Doctor Richardson. There’s no way he’s in his right mind if he thinks Charlie Nickles should take over as Warfare GM.”

The Nickeman dismisses Jimmy’s concerns with a simple wave of his hand.

“No offense, Jimmy: but that’s above your paygrade. Your job is to run Anarchy…my new job is to run the XWF. That’s why it’s important that we have this meeting now, to make sure we are in full alignment about the new policies we will begin rolling out to promote the safety and prosperity of all XWF talent.”

WD raises a suspicious eyebrow as Peter ‘DINGS’ his bell once more.

WD: (sigh) “This should be good. Go on, hit me up with the changes. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Effective immediately—no Black Rainbow backstage. Period. No appearances. No surprise run-ins. No more Ouija boards in catering.

They are persona non grata, got it?.”

Peter DINGS emphatically. Charlie smiles wider.

“All fan signs referencing revolutions, uprisings, and people’s movements? Confiscate them immediately. If they wave a Dolly Waters sign, security gives them the boot. Capiche?”

WD: “We’re in a mall, Charlie. You can’t do that, because I’m not even sure that I can-”

Peter DINGS aggressively, in sequences of two, over and over ‘no no no no’... as Charlie cuts ‘Jimmy’ off.

“I can. I am. And I’m not done- so sit down, shut the fuck up, and start taking notes.

You don’t want to fail your first performance review.”

WD looks immediately taken aback as The Nickleman leans forward, placing his elbows upon Jimmy’s GM table as if it were his own.

“All Revolution merch? Pulled. All Corporation merch? Front and center at every booth.

Foam fingers? They flip birds now.

You want a shirt? It has to have my face or my belt on it.

No exceptions.”

DING!
DING!
DING from Peter. Charlie cackles maniacally at the situation.

WD: (sighing louder) “And what does three dings mean?”

”It was one ding, three times! Like, YES! YES! YES! Keep up, Stars…”

WD: “How could I have ever mistaken his obvious enthusiasm.”

“Oh, and Peter just said that the pyro budget for my entrances is now more than your entire catering bill. Also, all Anarchy talent must exclusively refer to me as ‘Mr. Champion’ in all future promos.

They will respect my title AND my tie, or they will suffer for it.”

WD: “You really think you can just walk in here and—”

“I didn’t walk in, Jimmy.

I rolled in, rang a bell, and rewrote every damn rule in the book!

Anarchy belongs to The Corporation now. You can keep your desk.

But we’re taking everything else!”

Charlie rolls his head back with laughter before turns and walks out, almost forgetting to take Peter with him!

Ding! Peter rings his bell to second Charlie’s exiting statement.

It’s not until Charlie hits the door and hears that ‘DING’ that he remembers to grab Peter’s chair. As the corporate due leave the office, WD just sits back in his chair with a look of disbelief.

WD: “Well, that’s it. I’m asking for a raise.”


[Image: wireline.png]


[Image: LkEYxqp.png]

XWF PRESENTS: LEAP OF FAITH
LIVE - KROGER FIELD - LEXINGTON, KY
-  JULY 20TH 2025 -

EARLY TICKETS are on PRESALE only on: XWF99.com!
Also follow us on X - @xwf1999
Or on BlueSky - @xwf99.bluesky.social


[Image: wireline.png]


STARS: HOW DARE HE?!

TODD: How dare he who? Charlie? Peter Principle?!

STARS: Wheel and Dealer… Asking for a raise! All he does is sit around in my office all day!

TODD: Doing your work.

STARS: No, he’s doing his job… just like you should be doing yours.

TODD: Fine. Up next, we get to see who will take on Mister Oz at Leap of Faith for that coveted Number One Contender’s spot at the upcoming Leap of Faith PPV.

STARS: You gotta like how the Revolution division is shaping up. Maybe we should have our own rankings. Maybe a top 5 or something. A mini-ELO.

TODD: That would be nice. You going to make that a part of your SuperSTARS spotlight segment too?

STARS: Of course.

TODD: We wouldn’t want you to miss out on taking credit for anything around here.

STARS: You really do know how to cut a man deep. Oh Todderick, why wouldn’t I take credit for everything around here?



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 out his head and shoulders and begins to walk down the ramp, hands still in prayer pose. 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.

STARS: This dude gives off all the wrong vibes. It’s bad joojoo.

TODD: Bad what now?

STARS: Well, not only does he accuse me of setting him up as a stepping stone for JC Keeton, which I didn’t, by the way, he talks about himself as this tortured soul behind that mask.

TODD: XXXVI is as enigmatic as he is intense. He’s not here to win your love, Jimmy. He’s here to prove you wrong and take that brass ring from Keeton’s hand.

STARS: I NEVER SAID XXXVI couldn’t win this match!



A deep bass rumble hits first—like the distant crack of a thunderstorm rolling over farmland. The screen flickers to life with vintage home video clips: grainy footage of a young JC in headgear wrestling in dusty high school gyms… riding horses… before fast-forwarding to JC lifting the IWF world title!

BLACK SCREEN.

A burst of golden-white pyro erupts from both sides of the entrance ramp!

JC KEETON bursts through the curtain with laser focus. He doesn’t slow down. No theatrics. No posturing. He walks with an athlete’s gait—loose shoulders, tight fists, jaw locked, eyes burning forward.

He doesn’t look left or right. Just straight down the aisle, headed straight for the ring.

TODD: No frills, no distractions. That’s JC Keeton in a nutshell for ya. He’s all business every time we see him.

STARS: Well, he lives in a camper. And trust me, there’s not much in the way of distractions when you live in a camper.

TODD: How do you know he lives in a camper? Or are you making that up?

STARS: I saw it in the parking lot.

TODD: We’re at a mall.

STARS: Right. Who else would bring a camper to the mall?

TODD: Ugh. The former IWF World Champion is battle-tested. But the question tonight is… can he outmaneuver the unpredictable XXXVI and make his way through to the Land of OZ at Leap of Faith?


INDEPENDENCE EVE MINI-TOURNAMENT

XXXVI
- vs -
JC KEETON


Keeton and X square off in the center of the ring as the referee calls for the bell. Keeton calls for a test of strength and X obliges reluctantly and just as the two lock up, X kicks him in the midsection and fires off some rapid forearm strikes that backs Keeton into the ropes. X shoots Keeton off into the opposite side rope and on the rebound leaps over him, Keeton hits the ropes again and this time X flattens out on the mat and Keeton hops over, X closes the distance fast as Keeton hits the ropes again and he drills him with a nasty dropkick that sends Keeton to the canvas.

TODD: That dropkick hit like a bullet! XXXVI with the early momentum here.

STARS: XXXVI is making sure that Keeton understands the pain of loss.

TODD: If that’s true, he may be looking for a bit more than a pinfall here tonight.

STARS: Oh, if he has his way, he’ll put JC through the wringer. But JC said he could handle it… so…

Keeton bounces back up rather quickly but X is there and waiting, he grabs Keeton's leg and hauls him down the canvas with a dragon screw that torques his knee out. Keeton wills himself back to his feet quickly using the ropes and X goes on the offensive once more and clotheslines him out of the ring. X hits the ropes and leaps over top crashing into Keeton with a suicide dive and both men hit the floor hard.

TODD: X is throwing his body like a weapon—classic high-risk, high-reward there from someone who really doesn’t seem like he has anything left to lose.

STARS: And high impact. That landing looked like it sucked for both of them. Can somebody make sure we’ve got Doctor Dickbag on standby?

TODD: Doctor Dick… you mean XWF’s head trainer? Doctor Richard?

STARS: Eh, maybe. The one who gives out ice packs for anything. Both my guys are gonna need one!

X makes it back to his feet first and rolls Keeton into the ring and then scales the apron and the top turnbuckle. He leaps off with a moonsault BUT KEETON MOVES just in the nick of time and X crashes the canvas hard. Keeton capitalizes quickly and scoops X off the canvas and drills him with a series of elbow strikes followed by a jumping knee strike that rocks X and sends him stumbling. Keeton throws a spinning uppercut and then quickly drops him with a Poisonrana and follows up with a spinning 360 leg drop and makes a quick cover..


One



Two-


Kickout by XXXVI!

STARS: OHH, that was close!

TODD: That flurry from Keeton was vicious! He’s not just surviving though, Jimmy. He’s turning the tide of this contest.

STARS: You land a Poisonrana and then hit a 360 leg drop? That takes a special kind of talent. Damn shame Keeton is a Valor guy or I’d totally work with him.

TODD: Uhm, he’s an XWF superstar on your roster, too, Jimmy.

STARS: Neat!

Keeton runs his hands through his hair before pulling X back to his feet and setting him up perfectly for a German Suplex, he throws him overhead and X lands perfectly square on his feet, he leaps up and takes Keeton down to the canvas with a reverse hurricanrana dropping him square on his dome. X delivers a standing moonsault and then goes for a cover of his own hooking the leg. Cover!


One



Two-


Keeton powers out!

TODD: Loving the back and forth action! These two are mirroring each other with insane athleticism. I thought X might have had the pin there, but this could still go anyone’s way.

STARS: And how’s Keeton even conscious after that reverse rana? Numbers just bounced him offa his brainstem and JC just kept going like the JC stood for something religious!

TODD: …

X delivers another standing moonsault and then locks on the Boston crab and is wrenching on it. Keeton is writhing in pain as he crawls toward the ropes. Keeton looks as if he’s going to tap, his arm is extended fully into the air and just as he slams it down he grabs ahold of the bottom rope and the referee forces X to break the hold and he obliges after a moment. X stomps down and Keeton a few times and perches himself a few feet away and taunts Keeton to get back to his feet. He wills himself back to his feet and once he does, X throws a heavy looking super kick but KEETON DUCKS!

STARS: Ooh, I likey me some taunting. Maybe not the best time to do it but whatever.

TODD: Pure grit on display from JC Keeton. He was milliseconds from tapping!

STARS: Yeah yeah. But he didn’t, unlike Aurora. That bitch.

Keeton spins him around and drives him down to the canvas with a tiger Suplex and then quickly pulls him back to his feet and tries to lock in the Shepherds Crook (Standing ninja choke) but X floats him over to the mat with an overhead Suplex variation. Keeton is holding his ribs on that one. X points to the top rope and scales the turnbuckles and leaps off with the final countdown (Shooting star into leg drop) but at the very last minute Keeton rolls away and then taps the side of his head with a smirk on his face.

TODD: JC was playing possum! XXXVI just crashed and burned!

STARS: It looks like two can play mindgames. Count me in!

TODD: So two-and-a-half. Got it.

STARS: HEY!

TODD: Look, I’m trying to do a match, okay? These counters are lightning fast. Every move has an answer and I can barely keep up!

STARS: It's like watching two chess masters punch each other in the face. Which, to be fair, would make chess a lot more fun to watch.

Keeton takes advantage of the situation and hits the ropes and then drills X with the Ode to the outlaw (leaping leg lariat) which sends X flat back to the canvas. Keeton hooks the leg. Cover!


One



Two-



Thr-NO! X is too close to the ropes and grabs the bottom rope at the very very last millisecond breaking the Pinfall.

STARS: Good ring awareness.

TODD: That was close! I agree, Jim, XXXVI to grab that rope was incredible.

STARS: Smart wrestling from the guy who looks like he sleeps in a cemetery. Who’d have thunk it?

TODD: It really doesn’t matter how he presents himself. XXXVI brings the chops with him. And he’s got a killer moveset.

STARS: Don’t say killer-

Keeton watches as X uses the turnbuckles to pull himself back his feet ever so slowly. Keeton hits the ropes and drills X with EXILED (high impact spear) but X wisely jumps over him Keeton hits the middle turnbuckle head first at full speed. Keeton stumbles back on his arse holding his head.

TODD: CHRIST! Keeton just ate that turnbuckle full-speed! That could be a concussion right there.

STARS: That’s an ice pack at best. Moving on.

TODD: I’m being serious, Jimmy.

STARS: So am I. I know how Doctor Dickbag handles these things. It’s an ice pack or a toe tag. JC’s choice.

TODD: If he doesn’t do something soon, it’s going to be XXXVI’s choice!

X hits the ropes at full speed but Keeton quickly leaps to his feet and this time hits the EXILED!!! X slams the mat hard and Keeton hooks both legs-


One



Two-



Three!

XXXVI gets his shoulder up off of the mat, but a split-second too late!

DING DING DING

WINNER: JC KEETON


TODD: EXILED OUT OF NOWHERE! Keeton wins!

STARS: 36 got that shoulder up—but it was half a heartbeat too late. You hate to see it… unless you’re JC Keeton of course.

TODD: Now he’s heading to Leap of Faith to face Mister Oz for that number one contender’s spot! And probably a higher spot on your rankings… I might surmise.

STARS: Somebody light the fireworks! This division’s about to explode!

An unpaid intern reaches for the fireworks button-

STARS: NO! NOT LITERALLY YOU FOOL! DO YOU KIDS EVEN KNOW METAPHORS?!

TODD: Well, at least we’re not cursing at them.

STARS: YOU COULD HAVE KILLED US ALL! FUCK!

TODD: Wait… what?


[Image: wireline.png]



XWF PODCAST
LISTEN TO V3 - EPISODE 2

Did you like the first episode of the XWF Podcast V3?
Of course you did. And it wasn’t even the subliminal messaging that forced you to.
You know the drill:
Watch Anarchy and listen to the latest XWF Podcast AT THE SAME TIME!
Or check out the XWF Official™ Media YouTube Channel all your podcast needs
ALL THE WRASSLE TALK, ANY TIME YOU PLEASE

Episode 2 features Post-Rebellion thoughts and reactions to the results…
A perfect compliment to Episode 1… and perhaps…
Episode 3 may cover Leap of Faith? We sure hope so!
Let us know how we’re doing, and if you, too, enjoyed the podcast!


[Image: wireline.png]


When Anarchy comes back from commercial breaks, the fans begin stirring, pointing, and murmuring. No music plays as figures emerge from one of the Mall of America corridors next to the ring, and the jeers rain down like a torrential downpour.

TODD: Wait a minute here, what the…my.. Hey!

STARS: I didn’t authorize this!

TODD flips through his program notes, increasingly shaking his head in dismay.

TODD: THE BLACK RAINBOW IS HERE! WHY!

STARS: I don’t know.

TODD: What the hell are they doing on Anarchy?

STARS: I don’t know.

TODD: What do you know? Aren’t you supposed to be the General Manager?

STARS: Sure am, Todd. Hey, as your boss, why don’t you go ask them what they’re doing here?

TODD: No thank you.

STARS: That’s what I thought.

They're in full force, too. Emilia Glazkov, Dr. Holly Cambric, Marisol Vilaro, Enigma, and the Messenger. Dressed in all black, everything black, with the Messenger carrying the XWF Tag Team Titles for the two women who own them, yet can not be troubled to carry.

The Black Rainbow pays little mind to the hateful mall crowd as they climb into the ring and take up their stations flanking the Advocate. At the behest of Emilia, Mari secures a mic and takes center stage, gesturing in a grand manner like a game show host.

MARISOL VILARO: Behold! The full power of the Black Rainbow has arrived on MY show! Tonight, this is not XWF Anarchy, it’s Vilarchy. Named after me, of course, since I think you 400-pound mall hogs need it explained to you. We’re here for one reason only. To hold the DESECRATION CEREMONY for the XWF Tag Team Titles!

The fans in the mall become undone! Wild jeering and threats are hurled at the faction. This doesn’t change their posture, all standing with determined faces.

TODD: Jimmy? Wh.. what is she talking about?

STARS: In case you missed it the first few times…

TODD: Right. You don’t know. Gotchu.

Mari all but struts up to the Messenger, who smiles wide and evil as any evil could smile. He extends his title-clad hands outward at his sides and saunters to the middle of the ring as if he’s about to accept Jesus as his Lord and Saviour. The Messenger tilts his head back and smiles, smiles, smiles as Emilia approaches and raises a vial of Consecration Mist. The rest of the Black Rainbow produce their vials of Consecration Mist and hold them high as if in a cheerful toast.

Emilia nods to Holly and mouths something. The doctor takes control of the mic.

DR. HOLLY CAMBRIC: Behold your idols of validation. Forged in sweat. Fought over in blood. And now reduced to that which cannot be explained. These belts, once held aloft by emperors and kings, are now no more sacred than the floor tiles of this mall. Some called the holders of these straps immortals. Well, as Herodotus once said about Immortals at Thermopylae, we put their reputation to the test. And they failed. This is not blasphemy. This is not purification. This is blasphication. The merging of both.

The crowd isn’t even booing anymore. They’re more confused and on edge than anything else.

DR. HOLLY CAMBRIC: Tonight, we mark these titles in the name of the Shadow with the Yellow Eyes. We baptize them in our consecration mist so they may never again be worn without the stain of truth burned into them. A stain that no solvent can scrub away, no polish can shine away, no champion can ignore.

Emilia raises a hand, bringing Holly to a reverent hush.

EMILIA GLAZKOV: Let prestige rot. Let myth collapse. Let Black Rainbow reign.

She uncorks her vial of the black goo. The rest do the same. The crowd has no idea what to make of this until they see a blur of silver hair rushing to the ring like a bat out of hell. They pop hard.

TODD: AURORA! IT’S AURORA!

STARS: WHO LET THAT BITCH ON MY DAMN SHOW?!

TODD: IT’S A SHOPPING MALL, JIMMY - SHE DOESN’T NEED TO BE LET IN!

STARS: DAMN IT!!!

Aurora gets handed a walking cane by an old man near the ringside, and she slides into the ring with it. The first swing from Aurora comes at Vilaro herself, who ducks and immediately slides out of the ring. Emilia grabs the end of the cane, but Aurora counters with a kick to the gut! She slams the cane down across the back of the Left Hand of Maraeth! While Glaskov drops to her knees, Aurora catches Cambric out of the corner of her eye coming at her with a syringe. Aurora swings the cane at Cambric’s hand! She misses! No! Cambric looks down to see the needle broken off of the end of the syringe! Aurora then jams the cane into Cambric’s midsection, who doubles over and takes a shot to her back as well!

TODD: Aurora is absolutely cleaning house! She’s a former Tag Team Champion, and she’s been tortured for far too long by these bastards. She’s not going to let our titles get desecrated by the Black Rainbow!

STARS: I DON’T CARE - JUST GET HER OFF MY DAMN SHOW!

Aurora then turns and swings the cane at Enigma, cracking him in the ribs! But the cane SHATTERS - negating any chance she has to use the weapon. Enigma, the mountain of muscle that he is, doesn’t even FLINCH. Aurora tosses the cane aside and attempts an Entropy Blade… but Enigma simply grabs her around the neck with both hands and chokeslam bombs her right down to the mat with authority!

TODD: Oh no, that monster machine Enigma just had the walking cane shatter over his ribs, and I can’t even tell if he felt it! And now the rest of Black Rainbow is coming to, this doesn’t look too good…

STARS: Looks fine by me!

TODD: What is your problem?

STARS: My problem is in the middle of that ring with silver hair and the skin that looks like somebody scribbled on it! And if Black Rainbow finishes the job here tonight, a HEFTY BONUS is in it for ALL OF THEM!

TODD: The numbers game always catches up. You may get your wish!

Emilia, stretching the knots out of her back, barks orders. Instead of pummeling Aurora, Vilaro, Enigma and Cambric tie her arms to the top and middle ropes and stand unified in front of her. Aurora yells some things, but Mari shoves her signature scarf into her mouth, thus shutting her up.

EMILIA GLAZKOV: Thanks for joining.

Aurora’s eyes say what her voice cannot right now: BURN IN HELL BITCH!

EMILIA GLAZKOV: Before we were rudely interrupted, we now commence.

In unison, they empty the contents into their mouths, slosh it around, and then collectively they spit-spray the grotesque, oily substance onto both belts. It sizzles upon contact. The championships hiss, contort, and darken. The crowd gasps. Todd and Jimmy have been rendered speechless at the unfathomable sight. Aurora’s eyes are filled with wild fury and death lasers aimed at Emilia.

TODD: I can’t believe what I’m seeing. I’m speechless.

STARS: I can’t believe they’re not finishing that bitch off when they have the chance!

TODD: You… don’t care at all what the Black Rainbow is doing? How they’re disrespecting the legacy of every XWF champion that came before them?

STARS: Meh. We can always buy new belts.

TODD: That’s not the point!

When the ritual ceremony is complete, Emilia motions to Mari, who promptly takes the mic and gazes into the hard camera, mist all over her goddess-like lips.

MARISOL VILARO: Let all teams who come for these belts know they no longer chase championships. They now chase infection. They chase ruin. They chase us…. Nowhere over the rainbow.

Mari turns toward Aurora.

MARISOL VILARO: As for you, little lady.

Emilia summons Mari and the rest into a brief huddle. They break, and a sinister smile falls over Mari’s lips.

MARISOL VILARO: After some deliberation from my comrades here, we’ve decided that since you are on a Messiahic second coming schtick, we’ll oblige you with the Jesus Christ treatment. It’s only fair, right?

They untie her from the ropes. Aurora fights like a demon, even briefly earning her escape, but a sharp needle jab to the arm from Dr. Cambric brings Aurora to a sluggish movement. They place her on her back in the middle of the ring. Aurora is awake, eyes wide, but her movements are sloth-like, making it easy for them to pose her in the iconic Jesus Christ crucifixion pose - arms stretched out, feet crossed.

Dr. Cambric dips out of the ring and retrieves a hammer and a handful of nails from a toolbox under the ring. The crowd is now worried, screaming for this to stop, yelling at security and police to intervene. When Holly re-enters, she hands the hammer and nails to Emilia, who then kneels next to Aurora’s right hand and places the pointed end of a nail against her palm and raises the hammer.

TODD: THEY ARE LITERALLY GONNA FUCKING CRUCIFY AURORA! SOMEBODY STOP THIS FOR FUCK SAKE!

STARS: Hey… no… wait… stop… that’s my ring you’re going to put a hole in…

TODD: FUCK YOU JIMMY! GET ANYONE! GET EVERYONE OUT HERE NOW!!!

STARS: No… wait… let ‘em finish first… then kick Aurora… I mean Black Rainbow out…

As if on cue with Todd’s urgent plea, most of the Anarchy security team spills out, as well as Mall of America private security, hitting the ring with urgency. The Black Rainbow is gone, though, having retreated in time. The cameras barely catch their retreating forms before shifting the feed back to the ring, where Aurora is seen surrounded by the hordes of security and being tended to by medical staff, who brought their ice packs with them.

TODD: Damn it! Damn them! I can’t believe what Black Rainbow keeps getting away with, week after week!

STARS: Damn it! I was so close to having a good time, minus having to order a new canvas.

TODD: Seriously, what IS your problem here?

STARS: It’s a long fucking story, TODD! And you don’t like hearing me talk!

TODD: No I do not!

STARS: Then don’t ask!

TODD: UGH! I hope Aurora is okay! Thank goodness security arrived when it did, because this could have been a lot, lot worse.

STARS: If only she had some friends to come help her, hmm? I wonder who’s fault that is?

TODD: This might take some time for us to get our bearings before proceeding. We’ll… umm… we’re sorry, we’ll be right back.

STARS: I’m only sorry Aurora didn’t get what was coming to her-

TODD: SHUT! UP!


[Image: wireline.png]


CUT TO: TRAINERS ROOM


“Spoiled” Summer Page is chatting with one of the doctors on the XWF medical team. A smile from ear to ear comes over Summer’s face.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: Thank you for the news, doc…

The XWF Head Trainer Doctor Richardson (AKA Doctor Dickbag) pats Summer on her left shoulder and then walks away. A smiling Summer begins to walk through the Mall of America.

Voice: Summer!!!!

A pleasantly surprised Summer sees her older sister Bianca Page approach her. The two sisters hug.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: What are you doing here? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?

“Classy” Bianca Page: I actually didn’t know that I’d see you here. A guy that I’ve been seeing asked me to meet him here…

“Spoiled” Summer Page: Ooooh a guy?

Summer devilishly smiles at her sister.

“Classy” Bianca Page: Stop it! Don’t embarrass me!

“Spoiled” Summer Page: Who me?

“Classy” Bianca Page: Yes you! And if you do I’ll tell Craig about all the embarrassing stories of yours from when we were kids.

Summer stares daggers at her sister.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: Fine! Whatever!

“Classy” Bianca Page: Glad to hear that you see things my way…

Suddenly the conversation is interrupted by Shark’s loud and obnoxious voice as he comes rushing behind Bianca.

James Shark: YO look what they selling at Spencers.

The camera zooms into a box with Keiran King’s face on it. There is a gasp from Bianca off camera as she reads the wording on the box - “ROYAL FLESHLIGHT”.

James Shark: This motherfucker got his own pocket pussy. This is incredible. Why am I surprised though when that pussy tryna flex off of jumpin’ me after a match!?

Shark laughs out loud and throws the box over his head. The box can be heard hitting something loud and a staff member can be heard yelling out “Ow!!”. Shark cringes but then suddenly notices Summer Page. The both of them react simultaneously.

“Spoiled” Summer Page and James Shark: What are you doing here!?

Both of them glare at one another and cross their arms, it was like looking at a mirror. Bianca tilts her head confused and looks at her sister, but not before grabbing Shark’s arm closely which only lights a fire in Summer’s eyes even more as she puts two and two together.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: O!M!G! Is Shark the guy you came to see?

“Classy” Bianca Page: Wait, James is the Shark guy who has been hitting on you non stop you’ve told us about?

Both Bianca and Summer put their hands over their mouths in shock. Shark looks shocked as well but immediately frowns when he hears Bianca. He puts a finger up.

Shark: Okay well first of all, non-stop is a stret-

Before Shark can continue Bianca immediately lets go of him in disgust then slaps him across the face before storming off. Gasps can be heard from the arena by how hard the slap was, it almost looked like there was an imprint on his cheek. Shark slowly looks up at Summer, furious.

Shark: The hell is your goddamn problem!? Why do you insist on bein’ a pain in my ass for!?

“Spoiled” Summer Page: Why am I not surprised that you can’t accept responsibility?!?!

Shark: The fuck you want me to accept!? The fact that you jealous it wasn’t you hoppin’ on the dick this entire time!? Well that ain’t my problem. You had your chance but that ship done sailed for you a long time ago!

“Spoiled” Summer Page: Oh yeah sooo jealous that I kept turning down your flirting…

Shark bobs his head from side to side and mimics Summer before turning around and storming off. He can be heard muttering a bunch of cuss words to himself as the camera pans back to Summer who rolls her eyes.

STARS: Hmmmm…

TODD: All eyes on us, indeed. Eh?

STARS: I hope they can work it out. There’s a lot of potential there for that team to take on the likes of Them No Good Bastards, if they can get on the same page, that is.

TODD: Or perhaps there was a lot of potential.

STARS: Does look like Doctor Dick gave Summer the okay to return to action. I for one am ready for SummerSZN!

TODD: Unfortunately, as far as Shark is concerned, it seems like his Summer season has just ended… and he’s moved on to fresher waters. I guess we’ll have to wait and see?


[Image: wireline.png]


TODD: Up next is the Birthday Wish match… but we still don’t know what exactly a birthday wish match is!

STARS: I know what it is.

TODD: What good does that do us?

STARS: You’ll see…

The camera pans to XWF Unpaid Interns wheeling out a kiddle pool full of a blue gelatin-like substance toward the ringside area.

TODD: Jimmy, no.

STARS: JIMMY YES!

Stars calls for a mic as he gingerly stands up from his Hoveround™ mobility scooter. When the ring announcer hands him one, he taps on it until he can hear the popping through the speakers. There’s a loud shrieking feedback, nearly bursting the eardrums of everyone in the Mall of America Rotunda. Everyone except Jimmy, who remains proud and undeterred.

STARS: Ahem! Mall of America, make some noise! Because what’s coming up next isn’t just any typical match… it’s a birthday bloodbath! Solomon Kline. Tommy Wish. You thought I wouldn’t do it, but when you Wish upon a STARS, all your dreams shall come true!

TODD: Oh, brother.

STARS: Dog collars. Flaming tables. And for some reason, a kiddie pool full of Anarchy Blue jello. You wanted it? YOU GOT IT! You brought our brand the Xtreme Championship, so I bring you a match with my signature all over it! Courtesy of the Million Dollar Mouth, YOUR ANARCHY GM, JIMMY FUCKING STARS!

TODD: …

The crowd pops as the pool of jello is placed in position. Then multiple tables are stacked around it, plus lighter fluid and various methods of ignition.

TODD: Jimmy, this is giving off "make-a-wish in hell” vibes.

STARS: You just wait until Kline and Wish get their asses down here and that chain is locked between them! This match is set to ignite, but it’s up to our superstars to bring the spark!



It shows Tommy in the shadows in a corridor somewhere on the X-Tron in a hoodie, then it fades back into the arena where the lights flicker and the camera see's him coming down to the ring in his jacket hoodie, with him waving a Kendo Stick around him. Then he nods his head to the beat, and he gives some fans some dap as he walks down to the ramp, then he slides into the ring, and gets on the turnbuckle and poses to the crowd with the stick in the air. Then he comes down from there, and sits on the corner as his theme fades off.

TODD: Tommy Wish looks ready as ever, Jim. Do you think this becoming an Xtreme 24/7 Title match changes things for him at all?

STARS: Sure, it elevates the stakes, but I’d like to think not. Wish is still torn up over not being able to bring home those Anarchy Tag Team titles. This does give him a more immediate path to redemption, but ehh, I don’t see where his gameplan changes any, if at all.

TODD: Agreed. I think the Birthday Wishes of a Flaming… uhh Dog Collar… Tables… uhm Jello match works right in Tommy’s favor!

STARS: It absolutely could.



"Dethrone" by Bad Omens plays throughout the arena. The lights go out. Once the beat drops, a spotlight shines on the entryway, where Solomon Kline appears inside the light, clad in a black hoodie over his ring gear and kneeling on his right knee. As the lyrics come in, he stands, removes his hood and surveys the crowd as sparks rain down around him. He grooves his way toward the ring, and high fives fans along the way. He circles the ring and slides under the bottom rope. He continues rocking out to the song and goes to the turnbuckle to let out a primal scream, singing along to the lyric, "Here am I, take me to the pearly gates, so I can look you in the eye when I spit in your face!"

STARS: And here he is, the brand new XWF 24/7 Xtreme Champion, Solomon Kline!

TODD: Proud of him, Always great seeing someone win their first XWF title.

STARS: I’ll remember exactly where I was when Solomon Kline pinned Dickie Watson!

TODD: Where were you?

STARS: …watching the TV. Duh.

TODD: You dumbass. Anyway, yeah, it was Dickie’s tough luck that lead to Solomon’s great fortune. Will Solomon’s luck lead to Tommy Wish’s great fortune? Only a flaming table can decide who is going to walk out of the Mall of America as the Xtreme Champion! And that match starts… NOW!


BIRTHDAY WISH MATCH

XWF Xtreme Championship
SOLOMON KLINE ©
- vs -
TOMMY WISH

Xtreme Dog-Collar Flaming Tables Match
Must put the opponent through a Flaming Table to Win!
Also there’s Jello™


STARS: Both men are collared now, chain stretching about ten feet, or for our British/Canadian brethren, about the length of a Razor Blade winning streak. So it’s not that far! No escape. Tables line the outside, especially around the jello pool. And yes, that is a licensed pyrotechnician standing by with a blowtorch.

TODD: An actual blowtorch. The fuck?

STARS: Language. We wouldn’t want the fire to be the thing that ruins this match.

TODD: What about putting out said fire?

STARS: Uhm, uhh… I’ll see if Wheeler Dealer can call the Fire Department real quick.

TODD: UGH. Jimmy, with you running the show, what could possibly go wrong?

STARS: I know, right?

DING DING DING

Solomon Kline lunges forward like a man possessed, slamming into Tommy Wish with a brutal spear that yanks the chain taut and drives both men to the mat. The thud echoes throughout the Rotunda. Solomon doesn't hesitate, he mounts Wish and hammers him with closed fists, unleashing frustration and fury from a string of missed opportunities.

STARS: Kline is making it known straight away that he’s not taking his first championship defense lightly!

TODD: Potential defense. Both these athletes are sick and tired of playing second fiddle. They want to be seen and heard!

STARS: Oh, we’re going to see and hear them, Toddy.

Wish rolls and struggles to his feet, trying to create space, but the dog collar snaps tight and he's yanked back like a tethered animal. Solomon pulls him in with one swift motion and cracks a short-arm clothesline, dropping him again. The crowd roars, some even leaning over the third-floor railings to get a better view. Tommy rolls out under the bottom rope, dragging the chain with him. Solomon pursues, but Wish yanks hard. The chain catches Solomon at the worst time, sending him flying off of the ring apron and landing flat on the ringside floor.

TODD: Great use of the chain between them by Wish to get the upperhand.

STARS: Veteran move to fake-out the time-out only to lull Kline Jr. right into a false sense of security.

Coughing and clutching his windpipe, Solomon doesn’t notice that Wish has his signature kendo stick back in hand. He stumbles into a brutal kendo stick shot right to the gut, courtesy of the challenger.

Tommy doesn’t stop there. He wraps the chain around his fist and begins driving it down into Solomon’s shoulder, targeting the joint with precise, angry blows. Then he drops him with a Russian leg sweep, making sure the chain is beneath Solomon's spine when he hits. The younger Kline cries out and arches his back, pain etched across his face.

STARS: That chain’s not just for decoration. Tommy's making it a weapon tonight.

TODD: This reminds me of old school XWF, which tracks hard for Wish. Steel chain, kendo stick, concrete floor. All perfectly legal when the goal is to set your opponent on fire.

STARS: No, not directly on fire. I don’t want to have to blow out the candles.

TODD: Speaking of-

STARS: Sigh. Fire department is on their way…

TODD: Are they really?

STARS: …

Tommy drags Solomon toward the pool of Anarchy Jello where a table soaked in lighter fluid waits ominously. He retrieves a Zippo from his jacket pocket and flicks it open, but before he can light anything, Solomon surges up with a headbutt straight to Tommy's face. The lighter flies into the air, vanishing into the crowd.

STARS: Told you the blowtorch was a good option!

TODD: I seriously doubt Wish will ever see that Zippo again.

STARS: Hope it wasn’t heirloom.

Disoriented, Tommy staggers back as Solomon scoops him up and drives him hard into the polished mall floor with a crushing Blue Thunder Bomb. A wet smack echoes against the steel fixtures and tiling. Blood smears along the ground beneath Tommy's head.

TODD: You could hear that!

STARS: You could feel that! Jesus!

Solomon, groggy but determined, crawls over to the kiddie pool full of Anarchy Blue jello. He plunges his hand into the gelatinous mass, scoops up a palmful, and slaps Tommy across the cheek with it, leaving a sticky splatter.

KLINE (shouting): THIS ONE'S FOR FRANCES!

TODD: …this is your fault.

STARS: ME?

TODD: You brought this madness upon us!

STARS: It’s the kids birthday! He wanted Jello Shots… so I got him the world’s biggest jello shot!

TODD: Wait… what?

Back in the ring, Solomon sizes Tommy up for Ashes to Ashes, but as he charges, Wish pulls the chain tight, yanking Solomon into a nasty knee driven hard into the breadbasket. Solomon crumples and Wish barrels into him with a Gore-style spear—Headrusha!

TODD: This match is back-and-forth! Neither man wanting to relent!

STARS: This isn’t the type of thing one can weather the storm on. You have to stay in control, else next thing you know you’re buying new ring gear!

Tommy rises slowly, sneering. Using all of the length of the steel chain, he’s able to retrieve and drag a steel chair into the ring. He props it up, and grabs Solomon by the neck. With a sickening spike, he drops him head-first onto the chair with the HideYaFace DDT. The sound of skull meeting steel makes even the die-hards at ringside wince.

STARS: That's vintage Tommy Wish! That DDT just echoed through the entire food court! Which reminds me, I’m hungry!

TODD: Why don’t you have a jello shot?

STARS: Oh, no thanks, it’s a little early to be drinking.

TODD: Wait… WHAT?!

STARS: …what?

Tommy rolls out and starts preparing a table. He drenches it in fluid again and this time the pyrotechnician steps forward. With a blast of fire, the table ignites into a violent blaze. Flames roar several feet into the air.

TODD: What alcohol did you use?

STARS: NONE! WHY?

TODD: Oh… okay.

STARS: Cause I didn’t make it. Interns did.

TODD: JIMMY WHAT ALCOHOL DID THEY USE?!

STARS: I dunno. Everclear? I didn’t want the Jello to look cloudy.

TODD: JIMMY YOU STUPID FUCKING ASSHOLE!

STARS: HEY!

Tommy grabs the chain and begins dragging Solomon by the neck toward the table. Kline coughs and claws at the mat, gasping for air as the fire draws closer. But Tommy is able to literally drag him out of the ring and right to ground zero.

STARS: This is what he wanted! This is the wish! Flaming table and all!

TODD: IF THAT POOL CATCHES FIRE IT COULD EXPLODE DUMBASS!

STARS: …no way.

TODD: YES WAY!!! GET EVERYONE CLEAR OF THE POOL, NOW!!!

Solomon kicks up with both feet, catching Tommy in the gut and knocking him back. He scrambles up, hitting elbows to the temple, and then a Superkick right to the jaw that spins Tommy 180 degrees.

STARS: But there’s a match still going on!

TODD: (Has Left the Ringside Area. Is now actively moving fans back away from the Jello pool as far and as fast as he can.)

STARS: Fucking hate quitters.

Kline capitalizes. He wraps the chain around his wrist and clocks Tommy across the face with a spinning backfist. Then, with everything he has left, he grabs Tommy by the throat and hoists him into the air. The chain rattles as Kline plants him with Crimson Dawn, a sitout chokeslam that lands just inches from the burning table.

STARS: Kline with the desperate Crimson Dawn! But he must not have had the strength to get him up to the table, so this match continues!

TODD: (Frantically gathering every fire extinguisher available in the vicinity in the background.)

Both men lie still for a long moment, smoke rising from the table nearby. Solomon pulls himself up with the ropes, dragging the chain with him. He tries to lift Tommy again, but Tommy comes alive and claws at his eyes, raking them deep. Solomon howls, blinded, and stumbles back.

Tommy whips the chain viciously across Solomon's back, leaving a line of welts. He yanks him by the collar and sends him flying into the steel ring steps. Then, with a devilish grin, he yanks Solomon up and flings him into the jello pool.

STARS: This match has everything! Blood, fire, chains, and now... blue raspberry carnage!

TODD: GET OUT OF HERE JIMMY! YOU’LL BE COOKED ALIVE!

STARS: And miss out on this perfect Birthday Wish match? Not a chance!

TODD: On second thought, you stay right there, Jim.

Tommy climbs onto the ring apron, waiting for Solomon to emerge. As the younger man stands in the jello, Tommy leaps with a flying lariat. Both men crash into the barricade, knocking over a stack of promotional signage from Hot Topic.

They rise slowly. Solomon lashes Tommy with the chain across the back. Once. Twice. Tommy retaliates with a suplex onto the mall floor, the chain coiling beneath them. Tommy locks in the F-Locker, an ankle lock modified with the chain tightening around Solomon's leg.

STARS: He's going to tear that ankle clean off! No tap-outs in this one, but that pain is real!

Aidan Collins rushes into view from the backstage area, yelling support.

AIDAN: Don’t quit, Sol! You’re not done!

TODD: Blizzard! Help me clear the fans out of here! That’s an entire kiddie pool full of gelatinous, nearly pure grain alcohol thanks to this dumbass!

AIDAN: Really? Oh, shit. On it!

Solomon claws toward the ring steps, dragging both himself and Tommy along. With a final burst, he kicks Tommy off and rolls away, clutching his leg.

Both men are slow to return to the ring, dragging the chain like corpses bound to one another. Solomon gets in first, wrapping the chain around his arm. As Tommy rises, he swings—Ashes to Ashes! A vicious forearm across the jaw.

STARS: Pfft. They’re missing a six-star classic. Oh well, their loss.

Solomon doesn’t wait. He slides back out of the ring, and sets up another flaming table at ringside, this one positioned straddling the ring and the barricade next to the jello pool. With a motion towards the pyrotechnician, this one, too, is lit ablaze. The flames lick at the steel rails, illuminating faces in the crowd.

STARS: Hey, Dwayne “Grok” Johnson, How flammable is pure alcohol in jello shot form?

(Searching. Searching. Results: found. Listing-)

STARS: Oh no. Ohhhh noooo…

Using the chain, he drags Tommy out onto the apron. They brawl above the fire, exchanging wild strikes. Tommy lands a forearm. Solomon hits a headbutt. The chain hangs below them like a noose. The crowd is on edge.

STARS: If either man slips, this whole place goes up!

TODD: AND WHOSE FAULT IS THAT, ASSHOLE?!

STARS: I DIDN’T KNOW! JELLO SHOULD NOT BE FLAMMABLE!

TODD: IT ISN’T, UNLESS YOU USE PURE ALCOHOL TO MAKE IT!

STARS: FOR THE LAST TIME, I DIDN’T MAKE IT!

Tommy hooks Solomon for a suplex off the apron, but Solomon blocks it. He counters, hoists Tommy up onto the top turnbuckle. He follows. The crowd rises with him.

They fight at the top. One misstep means oblivion. Solomon headbutts. Then another. Blood trickles from his forehead.

He hooks the arms.

TODD: Not from up there... NO WAY!!

STARS: THIS IS MADNESS!

DUST TO DUST!

From the top rope to the floor, through the flaming table. Vertebreaker. The table explodes into ash and splinters as both men vanish beneath the blaze.

DING DING DING

WINNER AND STILL XWF 24/7 XTREME CHAMPION: SOLOMON KLINE!


STARS: SOLOMON KLINE JUST SENT TOMMY WISH STRAIGHT TO HELL! HAPPY BIRTHDAY SOLOMON!

TODD: PIECES OF THE TABLE ARE FALLING INTO THE POOL! RUN JIMMY!

STARS: Very funny. You know I can’t run…

TODD: FUCKING DRIVE AWAY THEN!

Medical staff swarm in. Aidan reaches Solomon first and hauls him up from the wreckage, dragging his body away from the pool. Todd and the Security staff pull Tommy Wish clear from the pool as well, as Jimmy drives right up to it.

STARS: The kid did it. He walked through fire and legacy. On his birthday week. In front of the world.

The pool in front of Jimmy catches ablaze. It goes up like a rocket engine pointed in the wrong direction, a bright blue flame bursting upward toward the ceiling!

Jimmy is nearly knocked back off of his Hoveround, but it doesn’t take long for the fans, all armed with the various fire extinguishers Todd gathered, to help temper the blaze. Todd, being the absolute chad that he is, is able to throw the cover back over the kiddle pool, and with help from the extinguishers, smothers the blaze before it could burn down the entire mall and everyone in it.

TODD: Hey man, are you okay?

STARS: Uhh, yeah. That’s crazy, huh?

TODD: YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!

STARS: I don’t know, man! I’m not much of a drinker, okay? Geez. How was I supposed to know?

TODD: UUGGHH!!!

The referees work to unhook Kline and Wish from each other. With both men now up, bloody, welted, and extinguished, they glance across at one another. Kline extends his hand in a gesture of respect. Wish reluctantly shakes it before walking off with his head down.

TODD: And there it is. It might not be a rose, but Kline followed through on giving Wish his flowers.

STARS: I don’t know about you, but I’m thinking we should do this match again sometime. I kinda liked their ideas all merged together!

TODD: You shut the fuck up!

STARS: But I-

TODD: YOU NEARLY BURNED DOWN THE ENTIRE MALL! ZIP IT!

STARS: Awww. Okay.

TODD: COMMERCIAL. NOW.


[Image: wireline.png]

[Image: er37Xq2.png]

MICHEAL GRAVES - GREATEST MATCHES VOL. 1
(ALLEGEDLY)

Over 4 hours and 19 minutes of Micheal Graves greatest!
No, we don’t know why most of the DVD is Mark Flynn matches!
No, we didn’t reprint the covers of Mark Flynn’s Greatest Matches Vol. 1 -
Why would we even do that?

Get yours now at local Target, Best Buy, WalMart, or order it on Amazon Prime with bonus footage-
Featuring: Micheal Graves #1 Fan Irdawg. Peter Parkour, Baby NK & Miss Furry!
Also, Vampires… for some reason!

[Image: wireline.png]


CUT TO: THE SECOND FLOOR


On the second floor of the Mall of America, people are seen eagerly waiting near a large black curtain. Beside it is Bobby Bourbon, wearing a bright fuschia tee that says “Slut” in contrasting eggshell white and a pair of purple camo cargo shorts.

XWF Universe and otherwise regular Minnesotans, welcome to the grand opening of my new retail kiosk!

I know what you're wondering.

How do you, as a No Good Bastard who embraces crass capitalism AND a member of the Revolution looking to broaden socialism, sleep at night?

On a pile of money, but only low denominations!

After all, it pays to be the High Holy Hypocrite of the Bastardly Father.

And that is why I am cutting out the middle man here today.

No longer do you have to find your local Dollar General, Family Dollar, or Dollar Tree to find the fine products from BourbCo.

You can now go to Minnesota!

Coming soon to a retail plaza near you, as well!

The curtain is pulled back, and we see the BourbCo Factory Direct Shop. All manner of boondoggles and tchotchkes adorn the kiosk with a bored attendant standing beside a register. TK is standing there extinguishing a cigarello.

That’s fuckin’ right Bobby.

We at BourbCo are pleased to give you, the consumer, everything you desire!

We have real Industrial Road Goop, as TK says it's the best made in Ohio!

When you need some Industrial Road Goop, think BourbCo, assholes, for all your needs.

We have General Purpose Little Green Doo-Dads, because how many times have you found yourself just wishing you had one of those?

TK holds up two handfuls of general purpose little green doo-dads.

We have our fine line of US Commercial Beef Pickled Sausage, which includes our popular Saffron Surprise and Chickeny Beef flavors.

TK eats a Spicy Dill flavored tube of meat.

Also, we’re unveiling our exciting array of testosterone booster.

That’s right, we will sell you hair and a better penis.

That’s right, folks, there's a fine lineup of merchandise that you, the consumer, never knew you needed until you saw famous people talk about it!

And we're the most famous tag team ever.

And the best part everything here costs just 1 Xbux.

The crowd gasps.

What?

Bobby, Xbux can only be earned by XWF wrasslers. They're extremely valuable.

They're wooden nickles. About as worth having a hotel on Boardwalk in Monopoly.

TK looks at Bobby, knowing he's never had a hotel on Boardwalk in Monopoly.

No, Bobby, they’re worth about $180 a pop.

Bobby's eyes widen, realizing he was opening a wave of kiosks full of extremely expensive merchandise.

Well our exclusive collection just can not be ignored once seen, we’re now just like Sharper Image instead of Five and Below.

I thought that's what you were going for the whole time, a high end gadget company for the upper middle class.

Bobby nods.

Now it is let's go with that.

Uplifting music starts to play.

At this time, we are going to honor the memory of a fallen member of the XWF roster.

That’s right, TK, we’re going to honor the memory of a man who competed in the XWF and was unceremoniously forgotten for years.

A massive banner drops in the middle of the XWF ring, or rather, it's a 21 banner salute throughout the Mall of America, as the visage of Steven “The Trooper” Cooper is seen by literally everyone in the building, everywhere.

[Image: images?q=tbn:ANd9GcT9FWQY8PShWVYnah3naHb...c=73016255]


Steven “The Trooper” Cooper was taken from us too soon from a rapid onset tumor, this warrior of the ring lost his final battle of cancer in, uh, what year?

Shit I don't remember. The thing is, Steven Cooper's career ended after facing us. And we care about him more than anybody.

More than anybody ever.

More than everybody ever. More than his partner, a sexual assault victim whom he mentored, more than his friend, Ned Kaye.

Whom he mentored.


Angel by Sara McLaughlin (Not Sarah Laughlin) begins to play throughout the Mall of America. The entire PA system. Every bathroom, every dressing room, every office.

Oh, and congrats on winning the JV Tag Straps Black Rainbow. I see you repping last year's model, but out with the old and in with the superior!


[Image: wireline.png]

STARS: God, I love those guys.

TODD: Well, we’ve seen a couple matches get real harcore at the Mall of America! And we’re about to get another!

STARS: We already had an X-Treme title match… But we’re about to have two of the most X-Treme men in the XWF come out here to try and top a match with flaming tables, dog collars and jell-o! And with these two? I’d give ‘em even odds to do it!


HARDCORE HEAVEN

FRANCES MARIGOLD
- vs -
MICHEAL GRAVES (CONCEIVABLY)

(Non-Title) Tables Match
An ominously large stack of tables will be set up precariously, suspiciously, in a spot where someone might get thrown from the second floor balcony for a dramatic finish!


Suddenly, there’s the strum of a banjo heard from off-stage…



Through the apron, bursts “Micheal Graves” (conceivably), Anarchy champion, sporting the “Dark Warrior” mask, and the belt on his shoulder.

STARS: Look at him, Todd! The man who beat the reigning, defending, blood-letting Universal champion! THE Top Champion of the XWF!

TODD: …’Graves’ is very impressive, Jimmy, but I think even he’d admit his victory last Anarchy over Charlie Nickles was, at best, controversial. After all, ‘Graves’ ‘won’ when he got Devil Hook Dropped, then fell out of the poorly made cage you had const-

STARS: THE XWF’S TOP CHAMPION OF THE XWF’S A-SHOW.

TODD: *sigh*Well, one thing can’t be denied. ‘Graves’ has been the longest reigning Anarchy champion in XWF history, 284 days… Over ten weeks longer than the last longest-reigning Anarchy champion, Sean Parker. [/blue]

As the banjo strings are plucked, ‘Graves’ strolls down the ramp… As an entourage follows him!

Irwin, Mark Flynn’s #1 fan is plucking the banjo, playing the folk song…

Behind *him* are the Students of Gravy.

Miss Furry paws at a triangle, which isn’t plugged into anything…

While Peter Parkour brings up the rear, holding a microphone…

Peter raises the mask over his lips and lifts the mic.

♫ You may think that you’re neutral ♫
♫  There are no neutrals though ♫
♫ You’re either with the wrestlers ♫
♫ Or a pawn of the CEOs ♫

The fans join in, knowing the chorus by heart…

WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON? WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON?

‘Graves’ continues to walk down the ramp to the beat, staring at the challenger in the ring… as the entourage behind him plays…

♫ The Boss wants us divided ♫
♫  He don’t want this song sung ♫
♫ But us wrestlers, we fight until ♫
♫ That final bell i-

”YEEEEEEAH! YOU’LL BE LEAVIN’ WITH A FAT LIP!”

CRASH!

TODD: “WAIT, WHAT THE—FRANCES MARIGOLD JUST HIT THE SCENE LIKE A ROGUE SHOPPING CART FROM HELL!”

STARS: “Say what you will about Frances Marigold, but he’s loud, which means he’s attention-drawing and he’s consistent, so his brand is clear!

TODD: He’s also constantly showing up to work drunk!

STARS: Which makes him an ideal endorsement figure for our liquor sponsors, Todd!”

Frances Marigold, blackout-drunk and laughing like a lunatic, rockets down the entryway in a stolen shopping cart, plowing straight into ’Graves’and his posse!

Irwin and his banjo go toppling into the front row… Parkour rides the shopping cart and gets flopped all the way under the ring! Miss Furry leaps like a cat onto the audience railing!

But ’Graves’ sails back off the ramp into an Orange Julius booth! kiosk, orange cream milkshake flies everywhere! Frances lands beside in a heap, immediately rising like nothing happened, teeth bloodied from the crash but grinning.

TODD: Holy cow! If you were worried about ‘Graves’ having the numbers game on his side, Marigold using that X-Treme shopping cart of his just levelled the playing field!

Frances jogs up to the cart and retakes the handle, dragging backwards with him what can only be described as a weaponized garage sale: a folded metal sign, a pogo stick, a heavy old VCR.

TODD: Where the hell does Marigold even find this stuff?

STARS: If I had to guess, the front yard of whatever trailer he just crawled out of.

‘Graves’ woozily crawls over the front of the Orange Julius kiosk, drenched in orange goop… Just as Marigold finishes heaving the shopping cart over the railing…

TODD: It looks like this action is going to get FURTHER from the ring… And that tower of tables!

STARS: Oh no! C’mon, go back towards the tables! Interns literally died making it!

‘Graves’ shakes his head, trying to get back into this one… Just as Marigold smashes the sign over Graves’ back!

‘Graves’ tries to crawl away, gripping onto the side of the neighboring Auntie Anne’s pretzel stand… when Marigold retrieves the pogo stick from the cart… then jabs the stick like a bayonet into the side of ’Graves’’ ribs, forcing a howl out of the masked technician! The Anarchy champ drops to his knees!

TODD: ‘Graves’ talked about how his recent matches have been ugly… And that trend might continue, Marigold has come out here looking dominantly X-Treme… and X-Tremely dominant!

STARS: That pogo stick spot brought to you by Sports Authority—wait, no, they’re dead. Just like Graves might be when Marigold’s through with him![/blue]

Frances lifts the pogo stick over the fallen ‘Graves’, looking to crack him over the head with it…

From the ground, ‘Graves’ kicks Frances in the shin! Marigold clumsily goes to grab his shin, then topples, losing his balance, falling face-first into the tile with a thud!

TODD: Something tells me Marigold couldn’t walk a straight line right now… Or touch his nose… Or say the alphabet backwards.

STARS: What are you, a cop?

As Marigold falls, ’Graves’ leaps on the opening, twisting Marigold up on his back, wrenching his  knee into Marigold’s back with a Surfboard Stretch right in front of a Panda Express.

TODD: That’s not an ankle you want to eat orange chicken near! Look at the torque!

STARS: If he breaks that leg, maybe we can sell a Frances Marigold action figure with a detachable knee.

Marigold grunts and growls, trying to power out of ‘Graves’’ hold… But ‘Graves’ simply technically shifts his grip to keep the hold tight!

STARS: Frances… can… break this… hold.

TODD: He can’t break that hold.

‘Graves’ uses his grip on Marigold to twist him like a pretzel off the tile… then ‘Gravy’ transitions seamlessly into a Belly-to-Back Suplex onto the cold marble floor, followed by a precise Knee Drop off a planter ledge to Frances' ribs!

‘Graves’ hooks a leg for the cover on the tiles! The official, who was standing in the ring while ‘Graves’ was entering and took this long to navigate the mall layout to get to the action, drops to count!

ONE!
TWO!!
THR-NO!

Marigold flops up at the last second, groaning something about Limp Bizkit.

TODD: It’s gonna take a lot more than that to take out Frances Marigold!

As ‘Graves’ yells at a referee about counting too slow, Frances drunkenly wandersinto an Abercrombie…

‘Graves’ spins around seeing his opponent, entering the store… He pursues!

…Just as Marigold slips back out… with a mannequin?

TODD: …What the HELL is this maniac up to?

STARS: No idea, Todd, but I guarantee whatever he’s doingm it’s clippable, shareable, and viral-able.

‘Graves’ charges, looking for a grapple…

But Marigold TEARS the arm off the mannequin! ‘Graves’’s eyes widen as he tries to put the brakes on…

WHACK—’Graves’ eats plastic elbow right between the eyes, as Marigold catches him with a stiff, plastic forearm to the face!

TODD: Frances just used fashion-forward self-expression as blunt force trauma!

STARS: I’ve never seen domestic retail violence used like this… This is ART.

TODD: ‘Graves’ might need yet *another* concussion check after this match!


‘Graves’ staggers backwards into the wall… He pushes off woozily, and Marigold delivers a Flapjack onto a mall cop's podium. Then, spotting opportunity, Marigold climbs up the podium, hops off, and hits a leg drop across Graves’ chest.

TODD: This one has been all Marigold so far!

STARS: Who would have figured that chaos in human form would thrive in a match designed to be chaotic!

Marigold latches an arm onto ‘Graves’ chest… The official counts!

ONE!

TWO!

THR-NO! ‘Graves’ forces a shoulder off the tile..

Marigold burps, shoving himself off the tile floor… He’s momentarily distracted by a smell… of cinnamon!

Like a drunken bear distracted by a balloon, Marigold scoops himself off the ground and wanders to a cart serving Auntie Anne’s pretzels!

TODD: Hey Jimmy, how much is XWF taking for product placement this episode?

STARS: Let’s just say my wheelchair is about to have solid gold spinners after all the checks clear.

‘Graves’ woozily shoves himself off the floort… Just as Frances returns with a churro, snapping a bite off it. Frances takes the remaining churro, and tries to bring it across ‘Graves’ throat from behind like piano wire!

…It snaps in half!

TODD: …Well that was dumb!

STARS: Hey part of being on the cutting edge of violence is not every idea is gonna work.

Marigold looks down at his halved churro, trying to figure out why something that would’ve worked in a Looney Tunes cartoon didn’t work here… When ‘Graves’ scrambles from his knees and drives his shoulder forward, tackling Frances through the Auntie Anne’s cart!

The whole cart topples over on its side! Nacho cheese leaks like blood from a gored nacho gazelle!

TODD: Hey Jimmy, is the XWF insured for property damage to the mall?

STARS: …Noooooo, my rims! My solid gold rims!

…’Graves’ rises up first, cradling his gut, trying to get his bearings…

When Marigold rises from the mechanical wreckage, looking unaffected… except for the pre-existing drunkenness.

TODD: If you’d told me Marigold would beat the Anarchy champion tonight, I’d have called you crazy! But this stipulation perfectly serves Frances Marigold! And ‘Graves’ can’t seem to do anything to put a dent in this alcoholic Terminator!

‘Graves’ exhaustedly stumbles up to a Directory stand, catching his breath…

Marigold pulls himself out of what little remains of the Auntie Anne’s stand, and drunkenly charges after ‘Graves’...

‘Graves’ spins around…

AND CATCHES the running Marigold

Counter Powerslam THROUGH THE KIOSK! It folds like cardboard as two men drive themselves through it!

STARS: Oh my God, stop breaking things! This is all coming out of my profits!

TODD: Jimmy, I was kidding. The legal department definitely would have had the stores sign indemnification clauses.

STARS: ..Oh. KEEP BREAKING STUFF! IT’S ENTERTAINING!

As Marigold cradles his aching back, surrounded by fiber glass from the shattered Directory stand… ‘Graves’ grabs Frances by the scruff of the neck and drags him over to the escalator…

He lifts Marigold up…

THEN ATOMIC DROPS GROIN FIRST HIM on the escalator’s silver railing… Marigold covers his ‘treble clefs’ in agony as Graves backs up…

CRACK!
KNEE TO THE SKULL! COUNTERPOINT!

Frances slumps over, his head bobbing like a ragdoll.

TODD: It took a while to get here but ‘Graves’ has finally gotten out of the gate! Marigold looks like he’s in trouble now!

STARS: ‘Graves’ said he wanted Marigold to re-baptize him in blood! To help him find the song he used to know by heart! And this ‘Graves’ is looking absolutely VICIOUS!

‘Graves’ eyes the massive tower of tables stacked like a vertical death sandwich by the food court’s edge. He grabs Marigold by the hair and drags him up the bottom of the escalator…

TODD: Oh my! ‘Graves’ looking with bad intentions at that tower of tables beside the ring!

STARS: Yessss, YESSSSSSSS!

As ‘Graves’ grips Marigold by the head dragging him to the escalator past the food court trash cans… Marigold grabs a plate a customer left atop the trash can, covered in Sbarro pizza grease…

‘Graves’ goes to huck Frances up the escalator… When Frances SMACKS ‘Graves’ with the plate, covering the Dark Warrior mask in grease!

‘Graves’ slips backwards into the escalator… And jerks in panic, trapped! The iconic Micheal Graves coat… has gotten caught in the escalator belt!

TODD: ‘Graves’ famous hobo coat! Inopportunely caught in the escalator!

STARS: That coat may never be usable again! And if half the things I’ve heard about that coat are true, they’re gonna have to burn that escalator down and exorcise the ashes.

‘Graves’ desperately tries to pull the jacket out of the belt… When Francesfalls upon him, wailing away with fists, holding a wet napkin in one hand and muttering something about “Fred said this would happen.”

The two continue up the escalator, with Frances pummelling ‘Graves’, who can’t even lift his arm to block the blows as the escalator chews on more and more of ‘Graves’’ coat sleeve!

TODD: We’re entering the second floor, Jimmy! Which means that tower of tables is looking all the more promising!

As they reach the top of the escalator… the escalator hungrily growls, ready to eat ‘Graves’’s whole arm!

Frances keeps drunkenly wailing on ‘Graves’’ head…

‘Graves’, out of desperation, judo throws Marigold behind him off the elevator…

AND YANKS HIS ARM OUT OF THE JACKET!

‘Graves’ narrowly crawls to satisfy, untangling himself from the coat as the escalator CONSUMES IT WHOLE…

Before sputtering and dying!

A mall janitor walks up, places the out-of-order belt on the escalator and walks away.

TODD: Safety first kids!

STARS: Do you really need to put a safety belt on a broken elevator? Isn’t it just stairs now?

‘Graves’ crawls out of the escalator’s grip like a man escaping a burning building…

Only to walk face-first into a raging Frances Marigold, who scoops him off the floor and LAUNCHES him by the collar through the glass-and-chrome frame of a Sunglass Hut kiosk.

CRASH!!!

TODD: If Frances wins this match, his future’s gonna be so bright, he’ll need those shades!

As Graves groans in the wreckage, Frances pulls himself out of the heap. He pauses… spots a mostly-intact pair of mirrored aviators on a busted display rack, and slips them on with dramatic flair.

STARS: This man is marketing gold, Todd. Get him on a sticker, a poster, a coffee thermos—I don’t care!

TODD: If the drunken terminator aesthetic wasn’t already there, the sunglasses really do complete the picture.

Frances tilts the shades downward as ‘Graves’ lies in the wreckage of the Sunglass Hut… Marigold grabs him by the back of the neck and throws Graves into a Hot Topic, where Graves briefly rallies by choking Frances with a belt chain off a faux-punk mannequin, before eating a stomp onto a rack of vinyl Funko Pops.

They spill into Victoria’s Secret, where the fight turns surreal—lace and fury in equal measure. Graves uses a silk robe to attempt a surfboard submission, while Frances blindly flails, grabbing what turns out to be a scented candle, and SMASHES it into Graves’ ribs with a muted thunk.

TODD: He’s using Eau de Violence!

STARS: This might be the first bra-and-bloodbath in mall history! …Actually, no—second. Westfield, 2012.

The two men exhaustedly stumble out of the Victoria’s Secret, scraped raw and sweating, stagger near the second-floor railing, just over the ominous, teetering tower of tables two stories below!

TODD: They’re RIGHT ABOVE IT! That monument of plywood and bad ideas! Somebody stop this!

STARS: If anyone tries to stop this, they’re fired! Beyond fired! Super fired!

Frances wipes blood from his nose, the shades still clinging miraculously to his face. He pulls Graves into a clinch, grunting with effort as he sets up for something truly vile—arms wrapped tight, shoulders hunched low—

TODD: Wait, WAIT—he’s going for the No Cushion Piledriver?! FROM THE BALCONY?!

STARS: Oh my God… THE RATINGS! DO IT! DO IIIIIIIIIIT!

The crowd surges forward, gasping and screaming, phones raised, as Frances tries to heave Graves into position, right on the edge…

Just as Frances Marigold prepares to dump Micheal Graves from the heavens with a No Cushion Piledriver, Graves thrashes in desperation—a sudden back body drop sends Marigold tumbling onto but not over the railing!

TODD: HE’S STILL ON! He’s still ON! Marigold’s hanging on like a man trying to keep his soul in his body!

STARS: I know we joked on Marigold earlier for running on cartoon logic, but I *swear* he hung in the air for a second like Wil E. Coyote before clinging on to that railing!

Graves, bloodied and breathing hard, lunges at Marigold, smashing him with wild, panicked right hands. Frances groans and clings to the metal bar, blood dripping off his fingertips… before he throws his skull forward in one last brutal headbutt, knocking Graves’ mask askew and spinning him back.

Frances hauls himself back over the railing like a man climbing out of hell. Still wearing the cracked sunglasses. Still grinning.

TODD: Phew, close call for Frances, he was on the cusp of a twenty foot fall there… But somehow, some way, he manages to cling on and get away from the tower of tables!

STARS: Booooooo, GO BACK TO THE TABLES!

Marigold roars and CHARGES the broken Anarchy champion…

But Graves catches him in midair—a pure survival instinct—
DESPERATION COUNTER POWERSLAM!! Right onto the polished tile!

The echo is sickening.

TODD: That floor wasn’t meant to catch people. That floor was meant to look nice under flip-flops.

STARS: Flip-flops you can find at the Mall of America’s Designer Shoe Warehouse!

TODD: Jimmy, are you plugging even more products?

STARS: Hey, some of these people agreed to bonus pay if they came up! Someone’s gotta keep the lights on!

Graves, dazed, barely upright, hauls Frances back to his feet. But Frances shakes loose, and like a wounded bull, gore-rushes Graves again!

AND THEY BOTH GO OVER THE RAILING!

They dangle. Dangle.

The crowd SCREAMS.

Graves clings to the railing by one arm, his feet scrambling against air. Marigold is on his back, arms wrapped around Graves’ torso, trying to ride him to safety—or doom.

Graves slams a fist into Frances’ temple. Another. Frances’ grip loosens…

Graves looks down. Then at Frances. Then at the tower of tables below.

TODD: No. No, please don’t…

STARS: DO IT. DO IIIIIIIIIIIT!

Frances’ eyes flutter open. He sees Graves looking. He knows.

And then… he nods.

A slow, sadistic, accepting nod.

And he smiles.

TODD: Oh my god. He wants it. HE WANTS IT.

STARS: HE WANTS IT! ‘GRAVES’ WANTS IT. I WANT IT. DO IT!

Graves wraps a front facelock… steadies himself… LIFTS—

AND THEY BOTH GO OVER!!!

THE END!!! THROUGH THE TOWER OF TABLES!!!

CRAAAAAAAAAAASHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

WOOD SPLINTERS. METAL SNAPS. THE CROWD LOSES THEIR MINDS.

“HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!”

TODD: Oh my god… Oh my GOD…

STARS: …You ever picture something in your head and it wasn’t as good as you thought it would be live?

…

STARS: Doesn’t apply here. That was SPECTACULAR!

Officials swarm the wreckage. A medic drops his clipboard. A fan faints. Security tries to hold back the mob. Somewhere, a phone alarm is going off and no one knows whose it is.

TODD: The tower of tables is absolutely devastated! It’s just a pile of broken, collapsed wood! I can’t even see ‘Graves’ and Marigold in the debris!

The officials dig into the debris—

One of them spots something.

A hand. Draped across a body.

The referee checks. He counts.

ONE!

TWO!!

THREE!!!

Todd: “NO WAY! THERE’S A WINNER! THERE’S ACTUALLY A WINNER!”

WINNER:...




…



……







WINNER: ‘MICHEAL GRAVES’


Graves’ body is still, his arm draped over Marigold’s motionless chest.

Both men are unconscious. The masked face of Graves barely visible, cracked and crooked. Frances’ shades are still—somehow—on his face, one lens shattered.

The wreckage surrounds them like a modern art sculpture in tribute to absolute annihilation.

STARS: I don’t care how much this costs us in lawsuits… That’s the kind of performance I can build a damn brand on.

TODD: Well, ‘Graves’ wanted to be baptized in blood… And I gotta tell ya, this mall is buzzing with X-Treme fervor! This feels like an X-Treme Rules religious revival!

STARS: Quick, pass a collection plate around!


[Image: wireline.png]


ONE LAST LITTLE BREAK TO CLEAN UP ALL THE BLOOD -
WE MEAN PEOPLE JUICE


[Image: wireline.png]


TODD: Ladies and gentlemen… After all this time… it is now finally  time… for your MAIN EVENT! And it is a Twin-City Contendership Match!

The arena darkens as a golden spotlight hits the stage.

RING ANNOUNCER: Introducing first… hailing from TORONTO, ONTARIO, CANADA… He is the reigning XWF Revolution Champion… He is “THE ONE… THE ONLY… THE KING”… JUSTINNNNNNN YOOOOORK!



"One for the Money" hits the PA as golden pyro blasts from either side of the stage. Justin York emerges in a jewel-encrusted crown and white-gold jacket, soaking in the cacophony of boos with a devilish smirk. Draped in a Canadian flag and with the Revolution Championship glistening around his waist, York adjusts his crown, struts down the ramp, and refuses to acknowledge fans.

Behind him, walking with disinterest, is Pro-Wrestling Valor World Champion Alex Raven. Dressed in black, with the PWValor belt over his shoulder and a look of reluctant obligation, Raven walks at his own pace. He never smiles, never claps, never cheers.

STARS: There’s OUR champ! And he’s got Pro Wrestling Valor’s Champ with him! WELCOME TO INDEPENDENCE EVE ANARCHY - ALEXANDER RAVEN!!!

TODD: Why does he look like he doesn’t want to be here?

STARS: He doesn’t, Todd. Ninety-thousand pages. That’s how long his Valor contract is. And you know somewhere in there it says "Don’t smile at York. Don’t clap for York. Just stand around and make sure Bobby Bourbon doesn’t punch York."

TODD: Well, for one, absolutely not signing anything that’s 90 thousand pages long. Second, you honestly think this contingency was covered in Alexander Raven’s contract? That he’d one day have to play bodyguard for Justin York on an episode of XWF Anarchy?

STARS: Absolutely. He’s here, ain’t he?

York enters the ring, climbs the middle turnbuckle, and raises his arms high—middle fingers extended to the crowd.

TODD: The people are letting him have it tonight.

STARS: They don’t boo royalty unless they’re jealous, Todd. That’s why we had a revolution in the first place. It all starts with being ungrateful towards your King.

TODD: …

STARS: I mean, King Chucklefuck had it coming. King York has literally done nothing wrong.

TODD: Nothing. Right.

York hands off his crown and title to the timekeeper and loosens up in the corner, barking instructions to Raven, who stands stone-faced at ringside.

RING ANNOUNCER: And his opponent… representing the No Good Bastards… he is ONE HALF of the reigning Anarchy Tag Team Champions… THIS. IS. THUNNNNDERRRR KNUCKLESSSSSS!



"I need a Dollar - Good Things" rips through the Mall of America Rotunda as the silky smooth voice of Aloe Blacc hits the air. Thunder Knuckles marches through the curtain in his signature wraparound shades and mullet bouncing with every step. Beside him, clad in a neon fuchsia “SLUT” tee and purple camo shorts, is the ever-unpredictable Bobby Bourbon, hyping up the crowd with a fresh can of Industrial Road Goop.

TK snuffs out a cigarello before stomping toward the ring. He flips off a teenager in the front row, signs a woman’s cleavage with a Sharpie, and climbs onto the apron before slingshotting into the ring.

STARS: Let’s goooooo! That’s my fucking guy!

TODD: Of course you’re rooting for Thunder Knuckles.

STARS: That man co-invented Industrial Road Goop, Todd. That’s a hero if I ever saw one!

TODD: I’ve been trying to get the smell of that stuff out of my sinuses since earlier today.

STARS: Fuck your beta sinuses, Todd. That’s shit’s a miracle of modern chemistry. We could have used it to put out the fire, I bet.

TODD: Oh God… the smell would have been atrocious.

STARS: Not much better than what I deal with on the daily with YOU, Todd.

TODD: Nice.

TK poses in the center of the ring, flexing dramatically while Bobby yells at Raven from across the ringside area.

As the two competitors stare each other down, tensions rising…

The lights suddenly cut out.

TODD: What the hell?

STARS: Uh… power outage? One of those interns in the BourbCo kiosk trip the breaker again?

TODD: What do you mean, again?

STARS: Might have had some technical difficulties earlier.

TODD: I don’t think it’s that… listen!

"DEMONS" by Tech N9ne hits the speakers.

The crowd ERUPTS.

A massive burst of pyro lights up the entrance stage as a silhouette appears behind the flames.

STARS: OH MY GOD—

TODD: IT’S JAMES SHARK!

As the chorus drops, Shark struts out shirtless, chains swinging, smirk cocked like a loaded weapon. He talks trash the entire walk down the ramp, soaking in the mixed reaction from the crowd. He circles the ring, stares down York, flashes a grin, and slides behind the commentary table.

SHARK (grabbing a headset): Move the fuck over.

TODD: What are you doing here, Shark?

SHARK: The fuck it look like I’m doin’? I’m joining you hoes on the booth tonight. Jimmy extended the invite and I aint had nothin’ better to do. Besides, I’m tryna see if York still thinks he’s hot shit after I slept him last week.

STARS: Ladies and gentlemen, THEE James FUCKING Shark joins us on commentary for the main event!

SHARK: You welcome.

With all players in position—York, TK, Bourbon, Raven, and now James Shark—the referee signals for the bell.




TWIN CITY CONTENDERSHIP MATCH
(Non-Title)

"KING" JUSTIN YORK w/ PWV’s Alexander Raven at Ringside
- vs -
THUNDER KNUCKLES w/ TNGB’s Bobby Bourbon at Ringside

Singles w/Valet
If Thunder Knuckles wins: Gains Future Revolution Championship Opportunity
If Justin York wins: Gains Future Anarchy Tag Team Championship Opportunity


DING DING DING!

Thunder Knuckles charges across the ring like a missile, launching fists into York’s jaw before the Revolution Champion can even raise his guard. The crowd pops huge as the first volley connects clean. TK doesn’t let up—he bounces York off the ropes and flattens him with a big-time back elbow.

STARS: That’s what I’m talking about! TK didn’t come here to play footsies.

SHARK: York already eatin’ elbows, c’mon bruh, he lucky that wasn’t mines.

York rolls outside immediately to regroup, barking at Raven while holding his jaw. TK leans over the ropes and yells something about “free samples at the kiosk.” Bourbon circles like a vulture nearby, making sure Raven doesn’t so much as twitch in York’s defense.

Raven’s eyes lock on Bourbon, but he doesn’t move. He simply folds his arms and watches, the PWValor World Title glinting on his shoulder like an accessory he’d rather not have to explain.

York gets back onto the apron, only to eat a right hand that sends him crashing back to the floor.

TODD: Thunder Knuckles is out here treating the Revolution Champ like he’s a discount pretzel sample from Auntie Anne’s!

SHARK: That’s an insult to pretzels, homie.

STARS: He’s rattled, Todd! I told you—this is TK’s world. York just rents space in it and probably ends up paying like… AirBnB prices. Haha..

TODD: …

STARS: Shut up, Todd!

TODD: But I didn’t say anything?

Back in the ring, TK hauls York up by the hair and plants him with a stiff side suplex. He slides over for a lateral press, not for a pin, but to lean in and slap York right across the mouth. The crowd erupts again. York scrambles back to his feet and shoves TK hard. Thunder Knuckles smirks and winds up, but York ducks, spins, and nails a quick belly to belly suplex, taking the Bastard off his feet. York grabs the leg and kicks the back of the knee repeatedly, trying to ground TK.

TODD: Smart strategy by Justin York here. He’s targeting the base.

SHARK: Only thing York be good at is playin’ it safe.

STARS: Or playing it pretty. Look at that gear. I mean, we get it, right? You’re Canadian. You’re from Canada!

SHARK: Settle down, Jim.

TODD: You’re clearly trying way too hard to impress Mister Shark. Why don’t you relax a little?

STARS: Why don’t you shut the fuck up a little?

York traps the leg and drops an elbow across the thigh. He repeats it. Then transitions to a rolling knee bar, wrenching it in as TK thrashes. Bourbon climbs onto the apron, shouting, but Raven simply steps forward—cool and calm—and stares him down.

TODD: You’ve gotta admit, Raven’s keeping Bobby in check.

STARS: Yeah, but for how long? Bobby’s got the attention span of a flea.

SHARK: Don’t let those hideous clown shorts fool you. Bobby’s the dangerous one here.

TK finally rolls to the ropes. York breaks the hold, smirking like he just checkmated Magnus Carlsen. He struts back to the center ring, throwing up a finger-gun salute to Shark.

SHARK: That’s the same finger he digs in his butthole with. Look, he so proud of it. (Takes headset off momentarily) You can finger me all you want but I’m your daddy at the end of the day….. Shit, pause. (Slowly puts headset back on)

TODD: The tension here is palpable.

SHARK: Ya… whatever that mean.

STARS: It means Todd thinks you’re gonna bust these fools up any second now, Main Event or not!

York turns back to TK, who explodes upward with a huge uppercut—followed by a short-arm lariat that flips York inside out!

The crowd roars.

Bourbon loses his damn mind at ringside, flinging a free can of Industrial Road Goop into the crowd and offering even more freebies from the kiosk to anyone who is cheering his partner.

STARS: YES! DROP HIM AGAIN!

SHARK: Knock his ego loose so I can see it roll under the table.

STARS: I just wanted a free Road Goop.

TK pulls York up for the Full Nelson Slam, slamming him down hard and rolling straight into a cover...



ONE!



TWO!



TH-Kickout!

TODD: Near fall!

STARS: Yes Todd. We have eyes. We all saw how close that was! DUH!

TK doesn’t let up. He peels York off the mat, yanks him up by the waistband, and with a grunt and heave, he hoists York right up onto his shoulders, and launches him straight down onto the back of his neck with a stiff Alabama Slam!

The ring shakes. Raven raises an eyebrow. York doesn’t move after the vicious impact!

TODD: We might be looking at a new contender for the Revolution title right here!

SHARK: Good. I’ll hand TK the Revolution title myself if it gets York off my screen.

TK wipes sweat from his brow, nods to Bobby, and mouths the words: Let’s end this shit.

TK climbs to the top rope — rare territory for the Bastard — but York kips up and sprints toward him. A well-placed jumping enziguri staggers TK, and York leaps up after him. Superplex! The whole ring trembles as both men crash to the mat. York clutches his back in pain but scrambles over for a cover.



ONE!



TWO!!!




THR-Kickout!

York screams at the referee, slapping the mat in frustration.

TODD: Our Revolution Champion Justin York nearly snatched victory from the jaws of defeat here!

STARS: You love to see it. Except when it’s at Thunder Knuckles expense. I mean, I do like Justin York, I really do. I just wish we all could get along more.

SHARK: I think I heard TK say, “That’s it?” when he kicked out.

STARS: That man is low-key such a beast though.

TODD: That impact was vicious though! You can never count Justin York out of a fight!

York drags TK up and whips him to the ropes — but TK rebounds with a surprise leaping lariat that sends both men tumbling to the canvas.

On the outside, Bourbon gets the crowd behind TK by chanting “VALOR SUCKS!” as loud as possible. A small “PWV!” chant also breaks out from the top floor. It seems the fans inside the Mall of America here are divided as to what side they’re on.

TODD: They’re… the fans are chanting for both federations here. I think the takeover is officially in effect, James, Jim.

STARS: And they’re doing it at my show. So we obviously win! Right?

TODD: That’s… not how it works.

York crawls to the ropes, grabs them, and uses them to yank himself to his feet. TK lunges at him, but York low-bridges and TK tumbles to the outside, landing hard in front of Raven.

Raven looks down.

He does nothing.

Bourbon starts to move in, but Raven cuts him off with a single icy glare. Bobby looks like he might throw down with Alexander Raven right here, right now if Raven makes a move on TK. But Raven doesn’t seem to be interested in hindering, or helping, Thunder Knuckles in any way.

TODD: Raven doing his job—grudgingly, but effectively.

STARS: I think Bobby Bourbon just realized why the folks in Valor call Alex Raven ‘The Apex’. He needs to stop worrying about him and get over there and make sure TK is OK.

SHARK: Yeah, but Bobby ain’t got the balls to deck Alex. Not without readin’ page 45,331 of that contract first.

York waits until TK rises, then sprints and dives through the ropes — suicide dive! Both men crash into the guardrail. York pops up first and throws up double middle fingers to Shark.

SHARK: That’s cute. He upgraded to two fingers now. Butthole expanding and all. AY BRUH, I DON’T CARE - I’M THE REASON YOU NOT DOUBLE CHAMP!

York tosses TK back into the ring and calls for the end. He lifts TK for the Killzone — Canadian Brainbuster — but TK knees him in the head mid-lift! York drops him.

TK retaliates with a stiff boot to the gut and charges York for a massive double knee strike into the corner!

York eats turnbuckle and staggers backward into TK’s arms — SIDE RUSSIAN LEG SWEEP!

TODD: That might be it!

STARS: DO IT FOR STEVEN COOPER!

SHARK: WHO?

TK covers!



ONE!




TWO!!




THREE– no! YORK KICKS OUT AT 2 and 7/8ths!!

Thunder Knuckles looks up at the referee and for a moment, disagrees about the particular nature of the count. In the meantime, York rolls out of the ring, barely conscious, right to the feet of Alexander Raven.

SHARK: I told you! Bro’s got his boy to run to! Always something!

TK gets in the ref’s face, pointing at Raven. Raven, in the meantime, simply shrugs as he has done nothing to actually help his boss. Raven has literally nothing but stand there the entire time. Bourbon circles wide—he’s got a sausage link in one hand and a flask in the other.

York crawls under the ring.

TODD: What’s he doing—wait—

He emerges with a gold-plated steel chair. The same one he used against Shark two weeks ago.

STARS: Uh oh. That’s not an XWF-issued chair. I’d know, trust me.

SHARK: That’s my chair!

STARS: Oh really? Then why’d you leave it under my ring?

As TK turns around, York swings—TK ducks! Boot to the gut! The chair goes flying! TK lifts York— POWERSLAM ONTO THE GOLDEN CHAIR!

STARS: RIGHT ON THOSE INJURED RIBBIES! OH NO!

TODD: That’s it! That’s got to be a Disqualification!

STARS: Nah, we ain’t doing my boy TK like that! York brought the chair into the ring… it clearly just happened to accidentally be in the way of the mat during Knuckles’ thunderous slam!

TODD: He literally AIMED FOR IT!

STARS: PROVE IT!

TODD: I WATCHED IT WITH MY OWN TWO EYES!

Shark jumps up to his feet.

SHARK: Yo! End this shit!

York wobbles to his feet — he turns and charges towards TK! TK fires off with a superkick, NO! YORK DUCKS! He spins TK around and catches him with a kick to the gut. York goes to hook TK’s arms one at a time, he’s looking for the KINGS THRONE! HE LIFTS TK UP… NO! TK blocks it! He back body drops Justin York over… but YORK LANDS ON HIS FEET! YORK CHARGES FROM BEHIND-

BUT TK TURNS AND CATCHES HIM WITH A SNAP SUPERKICK RIGHT ON THE CHIN!

YORK HITS THE MAT LIKE A TON OF BRICKS!

TK FALLS ON TOP OF HIM!



ONE!




TWO!!



THREE!!!

DING DING DING!

WINNER AND FUTURE XWF REVOLUTION CHAMPIONSHIP TITLE OPPORTUNITY RECIPIENT: THUNDER KNUCKLES


STARS: THUNDER KNUCKLES DID IT! He earned his shot at the Revolution Championship!

SHARK: He better not cash it in while I’m watching.

Raven doesn’t react other than offering a golf clap. He just walks up the ramp, ignoring York laying on the mat.

TODD: Wait, is Shark—

Shark rips off his headset and slides into the ring. He gets face to face with Thunder Knuckles, with the Revolution Champion laying just beneath them.

SHARK: I’ll see you soon. The Revolution is bout to be mine. Ya feel me?

Shark stares down TK as Bobby moves forward to stand point right beside his tag team partner. Justin York is starting to come to and is handed his Revolution Championship title belt, but must look up at the three men standing above him, all ready to take another piece of each other whenever the opportunity strikes!

TODD: Thunder Knuckles wins tonight. But I’ve got a feeling he just lit another fuse… James Shark smells blood in the water!

STARS: What do you expect? It’s Anarchy! It’s Independence Eve… and the REVOLUTION of the Jimmy Stars era has just begun!

TODD: Ladies and Gentlemen, I’m Todd Moschitti and that’s Jimmy Stars… and that’s all the time we’ve got for this evening! SEE YOU IN TWO WEEKS FOR LEAP OF FAITH! GOODNIGHT!

STARS: Time to press the button?

TODD: What button?

The four men stand in opposite corners, none of them willing to budge…

When fireworks go off inside the Mall-

When they were supposed to go off outside the mall-

TODD: WHAT THE FUCK JIMMY?!

STARS: Damn unpaid interns. They’re as bad as fucking Nirvana, I swear!

As the XWF logo fades over the screen…


[Image: logo2-2.png]
Copyright © 2025 - The Xtreme Wrestling Federation - Established 1999
All Rights Reserved


[Image: wireline.png]


Another HUGE Thank You Goes To:

Match Writers/Support Staff:
YORKIE
IRDAWGS HERO
A BARRY MASTERSON REFERENCE?
LIAMS ALIVE, BEATING HEART <3
THAD DADDY
PAPA SHARK DO DO DODODO DO
& Jimmy Motherfuckin’ Stars

Segment Writers:
President Nickles (Charles for Short)
A No Good Bastard (Bobby B! & maybe TK! too!)
Double Moose (JY)
Daddeus Duke (TD)
The Black Rainbow - Doctor Cambric’s Orders!
Allegedly, Conceivably
Another Barry Masterson Reference?
Hammerhead Shark/Summer SZN

RPers:
You
Your friends
Your friends friends
And all the people who love and support your silly hobby

“Pfft. They’re missing a six-star classic. Oh well, their loss.”
See you in all at LEAP OF FAITH
Where we'll do it all again-
Much Love for you All-
Our XWF Community
]]> <![CDATA[ANARCHY - 6/19/2025]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48980 Thu, 19 Jun 2025 23:36:29 -0700 Jimmy Stars]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48980

[Image: vuE1ZV0.png]
06 - 19 - 2025

LIVE FROM SOUTH BROADWAY ATHLETIC CLUB

ST. LOUIS, MISSOURI



JACKSON HART
- vs -
JC KEETON
Singles


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XXXVI
- vs -
FRANCES MARIGOLD

X-Treme Rules


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INQUISITION
- vs -
RAZOR BLADE w/ LATOYA HIXX

Singles


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MR OZ
- vs -
DAMIAN SANTOS

Singles


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LARRY TACT
- vs -
ATARA RAVEN

Singles


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SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
SIR LIONEL PENNYFARTHING

Singles


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Anarchy Tag Title Match

Them No Good Bastards
BOBBY BOURBON & THUNDER KNUCKLES ©
- vs -
THUGS

Traditional Tag


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"KING" JUSTIN YORK
- vs -
JAMES SHARK

Non-Title Singles


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CHARLIE NICKLES
- vs -
MICHEAL GRAVES (conceivably)

Easy Way Out cage match
The only way to win the match is to walk out of the cage door!
Winner gets a new item on XWF shop.com!
(Non-Title)





Plumes of Blue and White pyrotechnics shoot out from tubes around the makeshift entry ramp on the stage and mark the start of our show. Finally, after the fallout of REBELLION, XWF has returned to SELL OUT the full 550-person capacity (and maybe a few extra, don't be a snitch) of the historic South Broadway Athletic Club for this edition of Thursday Night ANARCHY!!! Even still, there are hundreds, nay, millions more who are watching and streaming LIVE from their homes!!!

As soon as the pyros finish, "Lithium" by Nirvana hits over the speakers, officially welcoming XWF fans to yet another edition of their favorite syndicated full-contact wrestling show, which we lovingly refer to as "The A-Show".

The Anarchy announce team is at ringside, preparing for a night filled with action!!  With "Lithium" still playing over the speakers the cameras pan around to those few lucky and avid members of the Anarchy faithful from all ages, races, creeds & colors screaming on the tops of their lungs, proudly wearing their XWF Merchandise and holding up signs for their favorite (or least favorite) stars:


WE'RE BEGINNING TO CONCEIVE... ALLEGEDLY

GIVE US SHARK WEEK

THE GUY BEHIND ME CAN'T SEE CHARLIE NICKLES - LOL

WHO NAMES THEIR KID XXXVI?

I AM #TACTALIZINGLY #VILAROFIT

ALL EYES ON SUMMER SZN

WE ALREADY MISS YOU BAMA T.!

F*CK FATTEUS DUKE #XWFRadio

THE GUY IN FRONT OF ME CAN SEE CHARLIE NICKLES - LOL

IF THE THUGS WIN - WE RIOT. IF THE THUGS LOSE - WE STILL RIOT!


The fans inside the Athletic Club are murmuring and ready to get the massive NINE match card of XWF’s Anarchy underway! They have packed the hall hours before bell time, taken time to pass by the local Professional Wrestling Wall of Fame, and they're more than anticipating how this night could add even more plaques to that (in)famous wall.

The hard cam pans around the arena catching glimpses of the excitement in the hall.

TODD: Ladies and Gentlemen welcome to THURSDAY NIGHT ANARCHY! As always, I am your host Todd Moschitti, and not-at-all-like-always, I'm being joined by my new broadcast partner for the evening, our new, uhm general manager? Uhm, I guess it's an honor to have you - Jimmy Stars!

STARS: You're damn right it's an honor, Todd. But the honor and the pleasure are all mine.

TODD: No offense, Mister Stars. But shouldn't you be in your office?

STARS: Please, just call me Jimmy.

TODD: Alright, Jimmy. Shouldn't you be in your office?

STARS: See, that's the thing about me, Todd. I'm a down-in-the-trenches, hands-on kinda guy. Besides, who could ever replace the LEGENDARY Bama T.? No one. That's why I'm out here, taking one for our team.

TODD: Okay. Well, I suppose that's nice of you. There's a massive card up ahead. One of XWF's larger shows at a billed nine whole matches. And I was wonder-

Jimmy cuts Todd off.

STARS: The promotion by our super STARS has been crazy, too! Nearly everyone had their piece to say on social media or whatever. Things you love to see: this.

TODD: Yes, that's absolutely true. Lots of good promos. Just like every other XWF show. But what I was going to ask you is that if there were any matches that you, our new General Manager, are particularly interested in?

STARS: Oh, all of them, to be honest with you. It's a new era, yada yada, no one really cares. But I'm telling you now, like I'm telling the entire Anarchy Locker Room: there's opportunities to be had. Anarchy is growing and there isn't a single member on this roster that I don't have my eyes on. Starting with Hart and Keeton, and ending with our Conceivably Conceivable Anarchy Champ "Conceivably" Micheal Graves and our new Universal Champion, "The Nickleman" Charlie Nickles.

TODD: Cool. Well, tonight we start out with a double debut, as Jackson Hart takes on JC Keeton to see who can come barreling out of the gate with momentum.

STARS: Uh huh, uh huh.

TODD: Then we have the mysterious XXXVI taking on Frances Marigold in an Xtreme Rules match. Marigold must be pleased, he’s got a real chance at picking up the W here with the stipulation being, seemingly, in his favor. That’s not to count out XXXVI at all though-

STARS: I know. I know.

TODD: Ohh kayyy. Then we have-

STARS: A match even I didn’t expect!

TODD: Really? Why?

STARS: NO ONE EXPECTS THE INQUISITION! Haha, yeah!

TODD: …you mean the Spanish Inquisition?

STARS: Oh shit, really? My bad. I wasn’t trying to be insensitive, Senor Inquisitiones!

TODD: Ugh. Well Inquisition has to get the ball rolling quick and decisively tonight as he takes on Razor Blade with his American Storm Tag Team Partner Layota Hixx to cheer him on at ringside.

STARS: Dos y uno!

TODD: No. It’s still a singles match.

STARS: Si?

TODD: You booked it!

STARS: Si!

TODD: Then it's Oz versus Damian Santos. I think the kid could learn a thing or two from Oz in the ring, if he lasts longer than he did in his debut, that is.

STARS: Who?

TODD: Damian Santos or Oz?

STARS: I know OZ. Jesus, Todd. I’ve seen the movie. Anyone can tell he’s a wizard. No, I’m talking about the other guy.

TODD: He’s the one who fought Doctor Holly Cambric in the preshow-

STARS: OH! The one who showed up drunk to the ring?

TODD: He did not show up drunk, he was drugged!

STARS: Ugh. The kids these days. They’ll do anything to catch a buzz.

TODD: That’s… not what happened at all.

STARS: It’s sad, really. Back in my day we used to drink warm beers straight out of the box and-

TODD: THEN we have the “Tactalizing One” Larry Tact vs. Atara Raven in what’s sure to be an instant classic. I’m sure the fans here in the Athletic Club are stoked to be witnessing two legends from wildly different backgrounds battle it out like it’s the beginning of their careers all over agai-

STARS: Look, that could be the Main Event of any other Anarchy, too. But I love Atara Raven and I love Larry Tact. The only two people I love more are the core fans and the target demographic. And since that’s the case, this isn’t our main event. We’re gonna keep on rollin’ baby, you know what time it is!

TODD: Anarchy Stalwart Summer Page puts her undefeated non-title match streak on the line against Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing!

STARS: I don’t know what a Pennyfarthing is, but okay!

TODD: It’s a man. He works for you?

STARS: What else is new! I came to see Summer Page, is what the fans are saying. All Eyes On Us? Perhaps we get a little preview of Summer SZN here tonight!

TODD: Are you… okay?

STARS: Sure am, Tim!

TODD: That’s… reassuring.

STARS: We Got Them No Good Bastards… The Reigning… Defending… Bashmaster-Approved Anarchy Tag Team Champions Valiantly Defending Their Battle Earned Straps Against Not A Thug, Not Thee Thug, But The Thugs! Plural!

TODD: …

STARS: And We Cap It All Off With A Pair Of Championship Showcases! Justin York, Our Very, Very Canadian Revolution Champion Will Go Swimming With The Shark. Nothing On The Line But Pride… But Pride Goes Far, Todd!

TODD: Then in our main event, we have a steel cage match. But I got to be honest with you, Jimmy, the ceilings here at the South Broadway Athletic Club in downtown Saint Louis, Missouri aren’t that high. Is it even possible to fit a steel cage in here?

STARS: We’ll make it work!

TODD: How? You can’t just… say… things…

STARS: Dunno! Not my problem! But We Got All These Superstars, Plus The Universal Champion Charlie Motherfluckin Nickles And Purportedly, Preposterously, Surreptitiously Micheal Graves Under This Very Roof! So if we could achieve that, then the cage is going to fit. I promise it will fit… even  if I have to make it fit my damned self!!

TODD: You’re in a wheelchair.

STARS: It’s a mobility scooter you f-


BEHIND THE BUILDING


In the rear parking lot of the historic South Broadway Athletic Club in St. Louis, Missouri. TK's new Camero screeches to a halt. The doors swing open, and out steps Bobby Bourbon and Thunder Knuckles, the crowd of 500 pops because the biggest stars of Anarchy have arrived. As the Bastards walk toward the door, a fresh-faced interviewer comes running up like a guy trying to cancel his bar tab.

"Oh wow! Thunder Knuckles! Bobby! Hold up, just one quick question for the XWF audience."

"Who the hell are you, Bama Jr.? Get out of our face. We’re not here to get stuck in another of your ‘exclusives’."

"I got this, Bobby."

"I’ll be in the locker room when you’re done."

Them No Good Bastards exchange a no-look fist bump before Bobby walks off.

"You know, Bama Jr.… usually I’d tell you to take that mic and shove it up your ass."

Bama Jr’s (Not His Name) gulp is audible.

"But tonight? Nah, tonight I got something to say. So I’m sitting at home, minding my own damn business, cracking open a cold one, watching some clips of the beating me and my tag team partner Bobby Bourbon put on Game Girl. When someone sends me this cute little interview, and there he is, folks. Justin York, sitting under soft lights, hair all moussed up, looking like a backup dancer for Nickelback, saying he'd like to face yours truly, Ol' Thunder Knuckles."

TK cracks open a beer he pulls from the pocket of his sleeveless denim jacket, takes a long, disrespectful drink, and belches without apology.

"You’d like to face me? That’s sweet. Really. That’s like a goldfish saying it’d like to go ten rounds with a goddamn shark. Let's keep it one hundred, York. This ain’t some fantasy booking podcast. You don’t get to wish your way into the ring with me like you have a magic lamp that you rub three times and a genie pops out. You opened your mouth, and now I'm kicking in your fucking door."

He tosses the beer can off-screen.

"But I ain’t doing it for fun. I ain’t doing it because you’re cute when you cry on Twitter. I’m only doing it for one reason. That little trinket you wear around your waist. The Revolution Championship. You know, that belt you’ve been holding so tightly like it’s your support dog."

He yanks off his Pit Vipers, staring with violent intent.

"You wanna face Thunder Knuckles? Then cough it up, bitch mouth. Put the belt on the line, or get back in the kiddie pool where you belong."

TK chuckles, then points directly at the camera.

"It’s time your Canadian ass took a trip on the Ohio Turnpike. Straight into the deep end, no lifejacket, and no way out. You practically begged for this, York. You asked for the devil, and now he’s at your door with a steel chair and a beer buzz. So next Anarchy, you either show up with that Revolution Title and put it on the line… or you shut your damn mouth and keep dreaming about what it's like to  be relevant."

TK throws up some gang signs that he learned in the hood to represent Them No Good Bastards.

"One way or another, I’m walking out with that belt, York. And all you’re gonna be walking out with are three L's. A loss, a limp, and a fucking lesson. Now, if you excuse me, Bama, me and Bobby are going to get ready to be the only champions defending tonight."


RINGSIDE


STARS: HEY! That No Good Bastard cut me off!

TODD: Sucks, doesn’t it?

STARS: I’ll give Thunder Fuckle a pass, this time. Hahaha. Bama Junior. That one’s gonna stick, I bet.

TODD: Isn’t the important part that TK just challenged King York for the Revolution Title, Jimmy?

STARS: I mean, I guess. I ain’t had the job for five minutes, and everyone out here already thinking they can do it better than me!

TODD: But you’re out here doing MY job!

STARS: That’s because I’m the best goddamned commentator you’ve ever seen, Rodd.

TODD: IT’S TODD!

STARS: Hey man, chill out, relax! Let’s take this to commercial break and let Todd compose himself for our first match. It’s going to be a long night!

TODD: Sitting next to you now… I can already tell that’s true.

[Image: wireline.png]


THE XWF PODCAST
LISTEN TO V3 - EPISODE 1 NOW

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Satisfy your craving.
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Do it.

[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: Folks, we’re starting off this show with a bang! In PWV, these two spit daggers at each other! It’s spilled onto X, where the two have sub-tweeted AND tagged each other!

STARS: And did you see what they said about each other to promote this match? They went ALL-OUT! And if you missed it? You can rewatch their promos on the XWF Network app!



“Tyler Herro” by Jack Harlow hits the speakers and the arena lights shift into pulsing red and white strobe effects. Jackson Hart steps out onto the stage, smirking, spinning an Ace of Hearts card between his fingers.

He walks with slow, confident swagger, mouthing lyrics to the beat as he flicks the card at the camera with pinpoint precision.

TODD: Jackson Hart! This man created the highest expectations for himself when he said the last two Anarchy champions AND every Revolution champion in the belt’s history weren’t up to his level! And he promised to wipe Sean Parker’s face off the XWF Twitter’s Anarchy logo and become the face of Thursday Night wrestling!

STARS: I love a sales pitch! But, any businessman knows you gotta see the product in action before you buy! I’m intrigued at what the Ace of Wrestling, the young man who made Chi-Town Wrestling the talk of Chicago’s wrestling scene can do! But, it’s all puff until you’ve got some wins under your belt!

Ring Announcer: “Making his way to the ring… from Chicago, Illinois… weighing in at 190 pounds… he is ‘The Ace of Pro Wrestling’… JAAACKSOOON HAAART!”

Jackson slides under the bottom rope, climbs to the second turnbuckle, spreads his arms wide like a king basking in the spotlight, and mouths to the crowd: “You’re looking at the whole damn show.”



A deep bass rumble hits first—like the distant crack of a thunderstorm rolling over farmland. The screen flickers to life with vintage home video clips: grainy footage of a young JC in headgear wrestling in dusty high school gyms… riding horses… before fast-forwarding to JC lifting the IWF world title!

BLACK SCREEN.

A burst of golden-white pyro erupts from both sides of the entrance ramp!

JC KEETON bursts through the curtain with laser focus. He doesn’t slow down. No theatrics. No posturing. He walks with an athlete’s gait—loose shoulders, tight fists, jaw locked, eyes burning forward.

He doesn’t look left or right. Just straight down the aisle, headed straight for the ring.

TODD: JC Keeton may be entering his first match in the XWF, but he made a huge statement at Rebellion, interfering in the champion versus champion match between Revolution champion Justin York and Anarchy champion “Micheal Graves”... allegedly.

STARS: York had broken every rule in the book to get to that point, but in that moment, he had ‘Graves’ right where he wanted him! He might’ve been just seconds away from becoming Anarchy’s first ever double champion! But JC Keeton, York’s employee back at PWV stuck his nose in and took it all away! Will York get his vengeance on Keeton and stick his nose in this match? Don’t touch that dial!

TODD: It’s 2025. Who has a dial on their television anymore?

STARS: Who has a TV?

TODD: Fair? Maybe?

STARS: Don’t swipe left on us, kids! Or is it right?!

At ringside, JC stops just before the apron. He finally lifts his head and stares at the ring—his eyes scanning the ropes like a battlefield. Then, with one quick inhale through the nose, he hops to the apron in a single fluid motion.

He wipes his boots, then steps through the ropes and immediately climbs the second turnbuckle, not to pose—but to look across the crowd, as if searching for someone who still doubts him.

TODD: JC Keeton! The son of Jake Keeton! A two-time world champion in wrestling countries around the world!

STARS: But he’s never won belts in the XWF, Todd! This is where the big boys play! This is where every talent in the world wants to compete! And only one of these men is leaving their very first match with a mark in the win column!

…

The official steps between the competitors, giving them instructions…

Jackson Hart stands in his corner,  eyes locked on JC Keeton like a lion watching a rival predator. He rolls his neck, exhales sharply through his nose, and flicks an Ace toward his opponent.

Across the ring, JC Keeton bounces lightly on the balls of his feet. His face betrays no smirk—only cold, quiet intensity. His jaw is clenched tight, a flicker of tension around his eyes. He barely blinks.

TODD: These two men are very similar, but very different! Both got into wrestling in their teens! Both are second-generation talent!

STARS: But Jackson Hart was the young star of his father’s wrestling promotion, Chi-Town Wrestling… Meanwhile, Jake Keeton was calling every promoter in a two-hundred-mile radius, telling them not to give JC a shot!

TODD: Very different roads to get to this match, Jimmy!

The official signals to the timekeeper…

DING DING!

JACKSON HART
- vs -
JC KEETON
Singles Match


TODD: And we’re off! These two men got PERSONAL in their promos! So get ready for this one to pop off quick!

STARS: You’re not kidding, Todd! Jackson said JC would never escape his father’s shadow… AND brought up JC’s dead mom! Meanwhile, JC said no one gives a SHIT about Jackson Hart, not even HIS mother!

TODD: Both claim the other is the first step on their journey to dominating Thursday nights!

STARS: And dominating insults on their opponents mothers as well!

Jackson circles first, eyes narrowing as he beckons JC forward with a lazy wave of the fingers. A little arrogance to bait him. JC doesn’t fall for it. Instead, he lunges in low.

JC shoots the hips, fast—too fast—for a clean sprawl. JC grabs Jackson’s leg. Jackson’s eyes flash wide, surprised by JC’s speed, and he shifts weight with practiced reflexes, sprawling just enough to stop JC’s momentum!

TODD: Both these men have wrestled since childhood! These are two young men with decades of experience combined!

STARS: They barely have decades combined!

As JC tries to brute force Jackson onto his front, Jackson rolls through the takedown attempt, wrenching into a front facelock, his biceps clamping down.

JC’s eyes flick with tension, but he doesn’t panic. Instead, JC rotates into the grip and slips out with sharp precision, twisting behind Jackson’s back into a rear waistlock. JC tightens his grip  on Jackson’s waist and smirks, cocking his head toward the crowd.

TODD: Beautiful chain wrestling on display here, Jimmy! Look at the instincts, the fluidity—JC has Jackson’s back already!”

STARS: Don’t blink, Todd!

TODD: Or I’ll miss the moment one of these men secures control?

STARS: No, Nielsen ratings are based on eyeball tracking technology now, NEVER LOOK AWAY FROM THE RING! This has gotta be the highest-rated Anarchy in XWF history!

TODD: …that can’t be true.

STARS: I have it on good authority, Tidd.

TODD: Tidd’s not even a real name. Who told you this?

STARS: Dwayne “The Grok” Johnson!

TODD: …

STARS: What?

Jackson’s nostrils flare. His hands shoot down, and he grabs JC’s wrist. He steps behind and reverses the waistlock, smoothly transitioning into a hammerlock. Jackson’s mouth curls in satisfaction now—momentum recovered. Jackson jerks JC’s arm upward, just enough to feel he’s established control!

TODD: Jackson Hart takes control in the opening sequence!

STARS: Don’t speak too soon, Todd!

JC winces, eyes narrowing. He shifts his weight and drops to the mat, quickly turning his body through Jackson’s hold, and transitions into a wristlock of his own, rising back to his feet as he twists Hart’s arm behind his back.

The crowd oooooohs aloud at JC’s technical prowess!

TODD: …Wow, great prediction, Jimmy! JC finds a way to counter out of Jackson’s wristlock into one of his own!

STARS: A certain captain from the future who shall not be named may or may not have tipped me off of a few things going down here tonight.

TODD: Is that so? Wristlocks being on the top of the list?

STARS: No.

Jackson grits his teeth, the flicker of frustration rising behind his smug demeanor. He tries to roll through—JC follows!

Jackson tries a standing switch—JC counters again, moving step for step.

TODD: Rapid counters! Each man attacking, countering, and attacking! This is like blitz chess if chess pieces were fists!

STARS: That’s called parity, Todd. And you know what parity is? I used to think it was the word for a live action remake. But actually it’s PRIME FOR MARKETING. Give me a rivalry like this and I’ll sell merch until my office has a helipad!

Jackson yanks his arm free and snaps into a side headlock, wrenching it tight with a grimace. He mutters something under his breath. JC doesn’t answer, but instead shoves Hart to the ropes.

Jackson bounces off, looking for a clothesline!

…But JC ducks the first rebound!

Hart rebounds back off the ropes on the opposite side!

JC leapfrogs—smooth, vertical leap sky high.

TODD: Wow! Scope that vertical leap!

STARS: That’s at least ten or fifteen feet, Twod!

TODD: No, it isn’t!

Hart comes back, bouncing off the ropes once more!

JC latches his arm around Hart’s, seeking! a hip toss—

But Jackson rolls over, lands on his feet mid-rotation, and immediately shoots behind JC, goes for a backslide pin!

TODD: Ah! Hart looking to steal this one!

ONE!

TW-NO!

STARS: Not even a two-count off that one!

JC rolls through the backslide! As Hart tries to get back to a verical base, Keeton hooks both Hart’s arms…

TIGER SUP-No!

Instead, Jackson fights out with sharp elbows to the temple, snapping JC’s head sideways. JC staggers backwards into the ropes!

Jackson backs into the ropes and sprints forward…

Discus Back Elb-NO!

JC ducks it with a quick drop step!

TODD: Wow! Both these men seem to know every counter for what the other’s gonna do!

As Jackson rebounds back off the ropes, JC aims a decapitating…

CLOTHESL-...NO!

Jackson juuuuuuust ducks under the arc of JC’s rising forearm!

JC spins around as Jackson rebounds off the ropes again, before leaping through the air!

RUNNING KNE-...NO!

JC evades, spinning out to the side!

TODD: This sequence is absolutely insane! Who’s gonna hit who first?!?

STARS: I don’t know, I don’t remember!

TODD: I meant now!

STARS: I said I don’t know! I don’t remember!

They both sprint for the ropes!

And they both have the same idea!

RUNNING CROSS-BODIES!

…

They both connect! And collide to the mat!

TODD: A successful hit for both men! But it’s not clear who took the worst of it there!

…

Both men crash to the mat, their bodies thudding at the same moment.

A beat of stillness as the crowd rumbles excited with the technical exhibition they’re seeing…

And then—

KIP-UPS IN STEREO!

THE CROWD ERUPTS!

TODD: ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! THEY KIPPED UP AT THE SAME TIME!

STARS: This goes beyond athleticism, Todd. This is pure SPITE. That’s two egos colliding in the air and refusing to hit the mat for long. It makes it so much easier to keep my eyes on the ring! No blinking!

TODD: Neither man giving ground. Neither man blinking, but not for the Nielson ratings. This is what it looks like when two rising stars try to eclipse each other.

The crowd is buzzing after the double kip-up. Jackson Hart and JC Keeton close the distance again, their movements sharp, coiled like sprinters at the gun.

They lunge toward each other again—!

Jackson gets the first grip, wrapping JC in a collar-and-elbow tie-up—but instead of wrestling clean, he rakes the forearm across JC’s mouth, muttering something cruel and low enough to keep the camera guessing…

TODD: Oh! The audio didn’t pick up what Jackson just said to JC… but you can imagine JC didn’t like it based on the look on his face!

STARS: Note to self. Mic up the ring…

JC’s face contorts with rage, eyes flashing white-hot fury—he shoves Jackson off violently, then shoots in with his trademark explosive first step!

TODD: They are not just wrestling anymore. They are trying to embarrass each other.

STARS: You ever seen two stars try to outshine each other mid-supernova? You have now, baby!

Jackson tries to bowl over the speed demon Keeton with a…

CLOTHESLINE!

…NO!

Instead, JC snatches Jackson’s arm and drags him into a…

SNAP ARMDRAG!

…NO!

Instead Jackson rolls through, springing to his feet, and returns the favor with a…

SNAP ARMDRAG!

Connects!

TODD: A point to Jackson Hart!

STARS: Are we supposed to be scoring this?

JC scrambles to his feet from near the corner where Jackson flung him… Jackson tries to follow up, latching his arm around Keeton’s for another armdrag…

But instead, Keeton latches his grip around Hart’s wrist! He scrambles backward up the turnbuckle and twists in mid-air with flair!

ROPEWALK ARMDRAG!

Connects!

TODD: This is rapidly turning into a game of ‘anything you can do, I can do better!

STARS: But they CANNOT be equally matched, Todd! One of these men WILL eventually outdo the other! STAY LOCKED IN ON YOUR SCREEN, viewers at home! NEILSON CAN SEE YOU TOO!

TODD: No, it can’t.

STARS: Shut up, Tim!

Jackson lands hard off Keeton’s arm drag, eyes wide, surprised by the flourish… Keeton leaps for a dropkick…

INCREDIBLE VERTICAL LEAP!

TODD: Did Jackson get like… four feet of air there?

STARS: At least twelve by my count!

TODD: …

STARS: Enter this kid in a dunk contest already!

DROPKICK!

…NO!

…Despite Keeton’s incredible hops, Jackson manages to slide to the side! Keeton eats mat!

The crowd gasps!

TODD: Never thought of that before, but when you can jump that high, missing a dropkick can be like eating mat from a move off the turnbuckle!

STARS: Live by the hops, die by the hops, Todd!

Keeton covers his face, trying to get back to a vertical base…

But he rises straight into Hart’s arms!

SNAP DDT!

…

Connects!

JC’s head snaps to the mat!

Immediately followed by Hart kipping up off the mat!

EGO TRIP!

The crowd oooohs and claps, as Hart reaches into his tights and tosses another Ace of Hearts into the crowd!

TODD: How many tricks… and cards… does Jackson Hart have up his sleeve?!?

STARS: Remember fans! Visit the merch table after the show for Jackson Hart card decks! Every deck has fifty-two aces of hearts!

TODD: Makes go fish kinda pointless if you ask me.

STARS: War was intense, though!

Jackson stalks behind JC now, eyes sharp, the performance dial turned up to eleven…

Keeton woozily rises up to his feet, clearly still feeling some effects to his noggin after that DDT…

TODD: Jackson Hart looking for a win here in his debut!

Hart steps toward the ropes, rebounding up—clearly ready to hit the…

ACE IN THE HOLE!

…

NO!

As Hart wraps his bicep around Keeton’s skull, Keeton turns his body and hooks his arms around Hart…

BACKSLIDE!!

TODD: Oh my! Keeton looking to steal this one!

ONE!

TWO!

THR-NO!

JACKSON KICKS OUT!

Jackson explodes to his feet in frustration…

…Just as JC springs off the ropes…

Leaping through the air!

TODD: LOOK AT THESE HOPS!

ODE TO THE OUTLAW!!! (Leaping Leg Lariat)

…

CONNECTS!

Jackson’s head snaps back, body twisting mid-air before crashing to the mat like a ragdoll!

TODD: HE NAILED HIM! ODE TO THE OUTLAW FROM NOWHERE!

STARS: That looked like getting hit by a lightning bolt!

JC hooks the leg tight. His teeth are clenched, face dripping sweat and venomous satisfaction.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!!!

WINNER: JC KEETON


TODD: JC Keeton just staked his claim in the XWF—and did it by outplaying, outlasting, and outwrestling Jackson Hart in a match that was as personal as it gets! But, you have to imagine… If the variables play out a HAIR differently… a roll of the dice… or an Ace on the river… And this one easily could have gone Jackson Hart’s way!

STARS: This match wasn’t clean, Todd. It was messy. It was petty. It was brilliant. And I already know—this is not the last time we’ll see these two lock horns. You don’t get closure from something like this. You get chapter one.

TODD: You need an absolute banger out of your opening match to set the tone for the rest of the evening, and regardless, these two absolutely delivered for you there, Jimbo. You have got to be beyond impressed with both young talent.

STARS: Never. Call me that. Again.

TODD: Sorry? I couldn’t hear you over the roar of the crowd, Jimbo!

[Image: wireline.png]

STARS: This ain’t over!

TODD: Sure it is! Folks, we’re rolling right along onto our X-Treme Rules match for the night!

STARS: Fine. But hey, listen, they don’t call us the X-Treme Wrestling Federation for nothing, Thom! This is where the chains of morality and ethics are cast off in favor of AUDIENCE ENTERTAINMENT! Don’t touch that dial, you sickos, you’re about to get exactly what you tuned in for!

TODD: You have a thing for these dials.  - - - BUT WAIT! WHAT'S THIS???

The broadcast feed shifts, and we’re back…stage?

Back…hall?

BACKSTAGE - IS WHAT WE'RE CALLING IT


At the Broadway Athletic Club in St. Louis. The 500 seat, 10,000-ish square foot arena.

There’s a curtain partition separating the kitchen from a more intimate, more… arousing area of the arena.

There’s a “knock”, or something more like a RAP– RAP— RAP on the curtain.

The camera turns to see the owner of this soundless fist…

THE CROWD POPS!

It’s none other than the XWF Anarchy Champion, “Allegedly” Micheal Graves…

He keeps knocking on the curtain, making little progress in stirring the attention of whom or whatever might be on the other side.

There’s no way “Graves” can be making much sound

RAP–RAP–RAP

His fist bats against the curtain,

The dense clattering throughout the mess hall is extremely noisy, and even louder still, from behind the curtain we can hear…



But nevertheless… a head pops out from behind the curtains. It’s forehead becoming a surface to turn the –RAP–RAP–RAPs into some -THUNK–THUNK-THUNKs–

[Image: it-crowd.gif]

BARRY MASTERSON: Hold FIRM old boy! Daddies yet to lather up!

FORMER…Former? ANARCHY GM BARRY “THE BASHMASTER” MASTERSON APPEARS FROM BEHIND THE CURTAIN

...

Barry finally takes a good look at the man knocking on his head,

Oh! By the heavens, it’s MY… ehhh… my former champion

Uh… I think that’s actually ‘current champion’, Bashman. ‘Graves’ lifts the Anarchy title on his shoulder.

Haha, of course, YOU’RE still current! But I’m on my way to being former!

’On your way’? ‘Graves’ nods ”Excellente! While you’re still around, Bash’o… I need your help - - - Quick!

Around? he steps fully through the curtain Oh, yes…I’ve been around for a long, LONG time…

He leans into Graves’ ear

...and I can’t quite *get off* the ride.

‘Graves’ is snapping his middle finger against his thumb, laying his hand just infront of Bashy’s face,

Focus, Barold. Follow the sound of my voice to planet Earth.

He keeps snapping… As Barry looks off in the middle distance forlornly…

…’Graves’ sighs. Come on, brown Barr… Ol’ ‘Gravy’ needs ya.

My… he quivers with sadness, sinking his head, ...former champion? Needs me? ANYTHING!

‘Graves’ eyebrow twitches irritatedly. Look, Mastronaut… I don’t care who you work for or who I work for… As long as we’re both aligned toward worker’s rights? I’ll always be YOUR champion. So fuck that former shit.”

…’Graves’ clears his throat. ”But, on the subject of ‘XWF shit’... Just checking, you still technically are … from what I understand… in a position of power here? Yes (please-say-yes)?

Power… he chuckles ...I’ve knowing nothing but power all of my life, from my head to my…

Graves rubs at his temples,

...please say to your toes…

Bashy bursts into laughter, putting a hand on Grave’s shoulder, leading him behind the curtain

No, my boy! To my loins!

...oh my god.

Power is abhorrent, it corrupts, my dearest Gravy. It is for this reason I have taken a step back into a more…. he waves his arm out at the room before them ...PRINCIPLED roll

There’s literally an orgy of six or seven taking place.

Damnit! Barry, for sixty FUCKING seconds… LOCK IN.

“Graves” tries pulling Barry back through the other side of the curtain, but Barry pulls back. Unrelenting, glowing, thirsting to share his decadent drink of passion with an old friend,

Fine, FINE!

I’ll “FOCUS”...

“GRAVES”

Flynn “Graves” gasps… before straightening his belt on his shoulder.

”Oh, Baraldo… Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for the old… ‘Flynn is Graves, Graves is Flynn’ fake news, conspiracy theory! You saw me wrestle Mark Flynn at WarGames! How could we be the same guy?“

Still won’t confess, even as our partnership closes? Barry sighs bittersweetly. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love you for… whoever you claim to be. if not for you, my Bashtastic brand of Anarchy would’ve been… STERLING SHIT. What can I do to help you?

Flynn exhales,

Dolly Waters… heard of her?

Hmm… now I’ve had my fair share of fun with a dollie or two in my time but–

No, no! DOLLY! D-O-L-L-Y WATERS. The wrestler.

OH! The cute girl? She’s perhaps- he eyes his friend up and down, -a little too spry for you, old boy.

Goddamnit.

NO!

Her contract has been… *temporarily* (he means INDEFINITELY) suspended, by that.

Criminal!

I KNOW! It’s retaliatory malfeasance! That’s why I need you, Supreme Court Masteriuce, to reinstate her!

Barry spares no thought…

ABSOLUTELY!

“Graves” pumps his fist. YES!

...would have, old boy! If my GM contract hadn't expired several minutes before you walked in.

…

...What?

Indeed, sport. Had you asked literally two minutes ago, I could have done anything your heart decided… Darn shame!

TWO MINUTES!?! It took me like FIVE minutes to get you to stop talking about your loins!

Speaking of which… Bashmaster wriggles his eyebrows seductively. Now that I’m not your employer… Perhaps we can address the unspoken SEXUAL TENS-

WHAM! Pieface! ‘Graves’ shoves Bashy back behind the curtain!

”...FUCK.”

…

”Eh.” ‘Graves’ shakes his head, before walking down the hallway. ”Still a better GM than Sterling…”

RINGSIDE


TODD: Apologies for that interruption, folks!

STARS: Apologies? Why is that turd still showing his face on my sh-

TODD: Hold it right there, Jimmy… We still like Barry, even if he never remembered any of our names. And I’ve gotta’ say, to hear our champion asking for Dolly Wa-

STARS: No, NO! Just stop. I don’t care. And neither does anyone else.

TODD: Actually I think a lot of people care-

STARS: Time for the next match!



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. Half way down, he spreads his hands apart and reaches out both arms in T-Pose as he crouches, sauntering down the rest of the ramp toward the ring.

TODD: Here is the mysterious XXXVI! He made his presence known at Rebellion, attacking Inquisition after a 36-second countdown timer appeared on the X-Tron!

STARS: We know he’s here! But what we don’t know is why! Will we get answers tonight?

XXXVI climbs onto the apron, extends 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.



As Nirvana's Tourette's blares through the loudspeakers, the cameras pan around the arena looking for Frances Marigold in the crowd…

TODD: And here is Frances Marigold, who… well…

STARS: Is an absolute trainwreck and I can’t stop watching him! Ratings, Throg! My eyes are glued wide open!

TODD: Oof. Well, Marigold has been drunkenly stumbling through matches since his debut a few short weeks ago! While he hasn’t been traditionally successful, he has been absolutely dynamite to watch!

STARS: Like a youtube video of a drunken bear chasing a balloon by a cliff! It’s horrifying if what I think will happen happens… but I can’t bring myself to look away!

TODD: You look at weird stuff, man. Just saying.

STARS: That is very subjective of you.

TODD: No. It isn’t. Anyway, I digress because our camera is… taking an extra long time to find Frances Marigold, who tends to enter the ring from the crowd…

STARS: Well, maybe they should check the ramp, Todd!

Indeed! For once, Marigold actually emerges from the X-Tron… With a shopping cart of weapons!

Frances Marigold stumbles half-dressed down the ramp, dragging the rusted cart like it’s his guitar... The cart’s wheels squeal.

TODD: Look at what Frances brought with him! Kendo sticks! A dented bowling ball! A rusty stop sign on a pole, like he just plucked it out of the ground! Two-by-fours! …With questionable stains...

STARS: Frances brought everything but the kitchen si-... Wait, no, he also brought a kitchen sink!

Indeed! A kitchen sink hangs off one side of the cart by a chain, dragged along the ramp…

He parks his shopping cart of violence ringside… Before reaching into the cart…

TODD: Frances wisely selecting a weapon before he enters the ring with XXXVI! He could go kendo stick… Or he could go two-by-four… Or…

STARS: He’s reaching deep in there… And coming out with…

…

STARS: A six pack of beer!

Marigold grabs a six-pack of gas station beer from inside, and—with two fingers and no concern—rips the plastic rings, cracking one open and chugging. He’s barely upright, eyes bleary but somehow too intense.

TODD: ...The man brought a kitchen sink, and started with a beer. This is a cry for help disguised as a wrestling match.

STARS: Frances might wanna get it in gear of XXXVI will have him crying for help!

As Frances chugs his first beer… Crushing it against his skull… The official barks at Marigold, ordering to get in the ring so the match can start!

Frances… Raises his middle finger!

And cracks open another beer! And starts chugging it!

TODD: Is Frances planning on chugging that whole six-pack before the match?

STARS: Every talent has their own pre-match routine, Todd.

The official continues to bark at Frances to get in there!

…But inside the ring… the masked Enigma, XXXVI…

Bounds toward the ropes!

TODD: Oh! It looks like XXXVI has no intention on waiting for the bell!

XXXVI leaps!

TOPE SUICIDA! XXXVI goes hurtling through Frances Marigold!


CRASH.

Beer goes everywhere!




Their tangled bodies tumble into the shopping cart. Its contents go everywhere! Metal shrieks. The kendo sticks scatter like matchsticks. The bowling ball rolls under the ring. The stop sign bounces off the floor and into the front row. And the kitchen sink? It clangs to the ground with a finality like the ringing of a dinner bell in hell.

STARS: This match hasn’t even started and it’s already completely gone off the rails!

From inside the ring, the official shrugs and signals to the timekeeper!

FRANCES MARIGOLD
- vs -
XXXVI
Singles Match


TODD: And we’re off! Both competitors are outside the ring, but this is X-Treme Rules! No disqualifications! Falls count anywhere!

XXXVI, agile and breathless, rises first from the wreckage. His body tenses, breath sharp under the mask as his eyes flick across the ground for a weapon…

TODD: Very wise by XXXVI! Weapons have no loyalty and it looks like XXXVI is going to use some of the toys Marigold brought against him!

After a brief search, XXXVI spots it—a splintered two-by-four, one end duct-taped, the other jagged….

Frances scrambles woozily off the mat… He grabs…

TODD: Finally, we might see Frances do something related to winning this m-

A dented beer can from the six-pack…

TODD: Oh c’mon!

STARS: Frances Marigold is nothing if not consistent, Todd!

TODD: Consistently drunk?

STARS: If it fits, it ships!

TODD: I… don’t know what that even means.

…Frances shoves the beer into the pocket of his pants… And then…

Yanks up the stop sign—still attached to the bent steel pole, the red paint flaked with rust and mystery stains!

STARS: Some intersection in Saint Louis is more dangerous than it was when Marigold drove by it on the way to this very South Broadway Athletic Club!

…The two competitors turn to face each other, now each armed…

XXXVI nimbly rotates his two-by-four in his hands…

Frances sways once, burps audibly, and grins like a man too stubborn to die, as he smacks the pole of the stop sign in his hands…

TODD: I don’t even know how to describe this match…

STARS: I do. This is a samurai duel in a gas station parking lot. The masked monk versus the drunken demon.

XXXVI crouches low, two-by-four raised like a bokken...

Marigold stumbles drunkenly… And XXXVI takes the initiative—

XXXVI strikes—
Whack! to the ribs.
Thwack! to the thigh.
Crack! across the shoulder!

TODD: If you were expecting an even duel, it looks like XXXVI is the more skilled swordsman!

STARS: I dunno, Todd! Frances is getting hit, but he ain’t going down!

Indeed! Frances stumbles from XXXVI’s strikes but doesn't fall. His body absorbs the punishment like punching a couch cushion!

XXXVI brings the two-by-four down… But Frances sidesteps… And wildly swings!

Frances swings the stop sign—

THWACK! Direct hit to XXXVI’s side.

TODD: Oh my! Frances Marigold is on the board!

XXXVI’s body crumples from the stop sign attack! XXXVI drops to one knee, gritting his teeth, the two-by-four barely held in his fingers.


Frances burps, before steadying his stance… He lurches forward with another slow, looping swing!

STARS: God… this is what I think it would look like if a zombie played company softball…

TODD: You know, I’d invite you to play on the XWF softball team, but…

STARS: I swear to God, Todd.

TODD: What?

STARS: Not only could I play, I’d whoop your fucking ass, just like Frances is whooping Roman Numerals right now!

Frances brings the stop sign down!

…But XXXVI narrowly dodges!

XXXVI rolls through, comes up behind Frances, who’s still struggling to re-lift his stop sign.

TODD: He got a decent strike in! But that stop sign might be a bit too wieldy for Mister Marigold!

STARS: Who the hell says ‘wieldy’ in 2025?

TODD: Well don’t touch that dial we haven’t used for thirty years and you might find out!

Frances launches another wild arching swing…

But again XXXVI sidesteps!

Then—using the momentum—he spins in close and launches a swift upward smack with his two-by-four…

Right onto Marigold’s hand! Marigold drops the pole!

TODD: Masterful disarming move by XXXVI!

Frances blinks. Looks at his empty hands…. Like he’s still processing what just happened.

…

“Shit.”

XXXVI doesn’t hesitate. He winds up—

His back arches, knees bend, every fiber in his body tightens—]

CRAAACK! The two-by-four explodes against Frances’ forehead with an audible crunch. Splinters rain into the front row by the ramp! Frances’ body goes limp. He collapses flat on the steel ramp, arms splayed like a rockstar at the end of a concert set!

TODD: What a strike by XXXVI!

STARS: That was like watching a guillotine in slow motion! Frances Marigold just got taken to church by a flying piece of lumber!

TODD: It’s his cross to bear, apparently!

XXXVI, after the thunderous blow with the two-by-four, drops his weight across Frances Marigold’s chest. Hook of the leg, shoulders down…

The official scampers through the ropes and drops to make a count!

The crowd rises, counting along—

ONE!

TWO!

THRE—KICKOUT!

TODD: WHAT?!?

Frances jolts a shoulder up just in time, eyes rolling, a loose grin stretching across his blood-smeared face.

STARS: HOW!? This man’s brain is oatmeal! That should’ve been three, a funeral, and a wake!

XXXVI doesn’t argue. No wasted motion. He slides off, breath sharp, gaze focused like a sniper's, as he turns toward the weapons scattered around the ringside like a hunter choosing his slaying blade…

That’s when he sees them. Twin kendo sticks. He twirls them in each hand with trained precision, the handles gripped tight, his feet gliding forward like a ghost dressed for battle.

TODD: This XXXVI is a relentless hunter! Ultra Focused on bringing down his opponent!

STARS: Triple-X-Vye was a great pickup by yours truly!

Meanwhile—Frances crawls up the ramp like a man crawling out of a bar at 4AM, flails until his hand lands on something..

Spherical…

Cold…

…

The bowling ball.

TODD: Oh my…

STARS: If Frances was looking for an equalizer? I think he just found it!

A twisted smile splits Marigold’s face. His head cocks to the side like he just remembered an old joke…..

“Hehehehe… strike…”

Marigold slowly peels himself off the ramp, bringing up his new friend with him…

When XXXVI rushes in from behind…

CRACK!

CRACK!

XXXVI delivers alternating Kendo stick strikes to Marigold’s back!

Frances arches, howling, his whole spine vibrating like a tuning fork.

He slowly stumbles forward—retreating—staggering blindly to the top of the ramp.

Another pair of strikes! CRACK! CRACK!

TODD: XXXVI is trying to bring Frances down with those kendo sticks like one might bring down a blood simple animal with a cattle prod!

STARS: But I don’t think XXXVI realizes Frances is packing a bowling ball!

Frances reaches the top of the ramp, XXXVI stalks him from behind… And the scene’s caboose, the official, follows behind XXXVI, arms out, barking orders, trying to maintain some semblance of order1

When Frances turns—suddenly, violently.

And hurls the bowling ball like an olympics shot putter!

[blue]TODD: Oh God! That could take the masked man’s face clean off!

Even through his mask, XXXVI’s eyes go wide as the bowling bowls arcs his direction!

…

…..

HE DUCKS OUT OF INSTINCT!

The ball misses him by inches—

—and LANDS into the referee’s foot with horrifying force.

KERUNCH!

TODD: Oh my GOD! The official might have just gotten crippled!

STARS: …*ahem*

TODD: …oh uh… I mean.

STARS: He may have just joined us on team handicapable!

TODD: Yes, but isn’t that a bad thing for the company?

STARS: My checks will still clear. Otherwise it will no longer be “my company”.

The official collapses to the ramp, cradling his surely-broken foot, screaming for help!

Meanwhile, Frances stares at the screaming man… Like, he’s trying to remember if he did that…

When, WHAM, XXXVI catches Frances with a boot to the skull! Frances staggers backward toward the X-Tron!

XXXVI, breathing heavy but eyes sharp, tosses the kendo sticks aside…

TODD: If Frances’s aim was to introduce chaos into this match, it looks like XXXVI thrives in an environment like this! What a miscalculation!

Frances burps, shaking his head woozily near the entrance curtain…

As XXXVI wrenches his arm around Frances’ neck… And whips him onto the metal ramp!

SNAPMARE!

TODD: We’re a little over four minutes into this match and I think that’s the first thing you could call a wrestling move we’ve seen since the bell rung!

STARS: Wrestling moves? In a wrestling match?!?

TODD: What a concept!

STARS: I made this Xtreme rules for a reason. Get that shit outta here!

Frances sits on the ramp, cradling his neck… As XXXVI takes a few steps back… And charges forward!

BASEMENT DROPKICK! Marigold cradles his spine collapsing onto his front!

TODD: This one’s starting to look academic! XXXVI simply outclasses Frances Marigold!

…Frances quasi-consciously sputters on the mat… As XXXVI grabs him by the waistband and drags him back up to his feet…

Waistlock!

GERMAN SUPLEX ONTO THE RAMP!

Frances lands in a drunken pile of denim and bad decisions, rolling over with a dazed smile on his face.

TODD: This is starting to feel inhumane! XXXVI isn’t even out to win, he’s out to hurt Frances Marigold!

STARS: Well, what else is he supposed to do, Todd? Sit on his hands? He can’t win without a referee out here!

The crowd erupts as a second referee emerges from the curtain from the back, flanked by medics pushing a gurney…

TODD: It looks like we have our backup official… AND a medical team to help the first official!

The first official waves them over, desperately trying to hold his obliterated foot together…

Meanwhile, XXXVI picks up Frances by the scruff of his neck…

…BUT!

Running on instinct, Frances shoves XXXVI backwards!

His body goes onto the gurney, which slips out of the first aid team’s hands!

AND ROLLS OFF THE SIDE OF THE RAMP!

TODD: OH MY GOD!

The crowd gasps—

XXXVI goes soaring ten feet through the air, entangled in the gurney, limbs flailing before CRASHING hard to the floor below in a tangle of metal and limbs.

STARS: Frances just YEETED his opponent off the ramp using a medical device!

TODD: Could this be Frances Marigold’s first victory in his XWF career?!? He just has to climb down and pin XXXVI!

Frances teeters at the edge of the ramp, squinting down at the wreckage. He lifts his arms like a symphony conductor gone rogue.

TODD: …Noooooo. He can’t be thinking about…

STARS: I don’t think Frances has ever thought about anything he’s ever done!

Frances reaches into his pocket, grabs the beer he snagged right after the bell rung…

Chugs it down.

And crushes the can against his skull!

TODD: PLEASE DON’T DO IT! OH GOD!

Frances stumbles back a few steps. Breathes in. Then launches himself into the air…

OFF THE STAGE!



The drunken rocker majestically sails through the air!

FRANNIE’S REVENGE!

…

NO!

XXXVI rolls out of the way at the last second!

Frances CRASHES full-body into the metal scaffold and concrete below, bouncing with a horrible smack. His spine jackknifes. He lets out an awful, breathless moan.

STARS: Jeezus CHRIST! Marigold just hit the concrete like a piñata full of expired cough syrup!

TODD: He might have just joined your team handicapable-

STARS: Shut the fuck up, Todd.

XXXVI, barely conscious, barely functional, crawls forward…
He drapes an arm across the limp carcass of Frances Marigold.

The new referee briefly thinks about going down there.

…

Nah…

Remaining up on the ramp where it’s relatively safe, the official kneels cautiously and slaps the steel with authority.]

ONE!

TWO

THREE!

WINNER: XXXVI


The crowd explodes. EMTs rush to both men, but XXXVI raises a shaky fist in the air from the wreckage. Frances lies flat, smiling to himself, as blood pools under his skull… completely unaware of what just happened.

TODD: What an absolute pile of carnage and broken bodies! I don’t think the Athletic Club has seen this kind of barbaric action in quite some time, and I dare the local promotions to try to top this!

STARS: He doesn’t mean that. Todd, repeal your last segment. Don’t dare these kids. They eat Tide Pods for less.

TODD: You’re probably right. Best to leave these things to the professionals, kids.

STARS: Yeah! Sign a contract first. Then come let us kill you under our banner. I get my 6.9 percent cut that way.

TODD: Ugh.

[Image: wireline.png]

BACKSTAGE


The scene opens backstage where Summer is speaking to some of the production staff about her entrance, going over different camera angles. Suddenly some of the staff see someone behind her and silently walk away mid-conversation. Summer raises a brow and slowly turns around only to see none other than James Shark who’s met with a mixed reaction from the fans reacting in the arena.

Shark: “I went out and laid an egg at Rebellion? The fuckin’ nerve on you. You just as fake as them!”

Shark points out towards the arena, eliciting some boos from the audience, Summer rolls her eyes.

Summer: “I call it how I see it.”

Shark: “Yea well you look at that flaccid, little wiener Craig and see… man we don’t know what the fuck you see. Your vision ain’t exactly all good.”

Summer yawns.

Summer: “Done yet? I think that green substance you got injected with at Warfare made you dumber.”

A vein starts to appear on Shark’s forehead as he steps closer to Summer.

Shark: “Listen here you plastic bimbo, I rode with you to the damn hospital. Encouraged the hell outta you whenever you was down about your losses. Offered to CARRY you to success in the tag team division. But you???? You ain’t return shit did you!? Couldn’t even give up some throat. You so mad you got jumped backstage!??? You deserved worse than what you got. I should have took my sweet ass time gettin’ to you. You deserved to get bent over and PENATRATED with that goddamn barbed wire bat.”

Summer’s mouth drops open in disbelief, she instantly frowns and gets right in Shark’s face, chest to chest, showing him she doesn’t fear him. The two of them stare at one another intensely as she looks up at him with neither breaking the stare. They were staring one another down so intensely and close to one another that anyone walking by could get the wrong idea.

Summer: “You know what, James? You’re a liar, manipulator, asshole, piece of trash AND nobody likes you.”

She nods her head towards the arena.

Summer: “Not them. Not me. And certainly not your own family.”

Shark’s eyes go wide with shock and anger at the same time. The two of them keep their eyes locked at one another before Shark quickly throws a straight punch right towards her face. Their’s a HUGE sound of impact but it’s only the sound of his palm hitting the wall as he stops himself right at the last second. Summer had her eyes shut tight, expecting to eat that shot, she slowly opens it and sees him glaring at her with his hand on the wall.

Summer: “You wonder why I kept things professional between us? Take a long look at the mirror.”

Summer ducks underneath his arm and begins to storm off as Shark watches her leave.

[Image: wireline.png]

STARS: Holy fuck.

TODD: That was heavy.

STARS: That was awesome. You go get you some!

TODD: You can’t be serious.

STARS: You’re damn right I am! I’M DECLARING IT THE OFFICIAL START OF SUMMER SZN!

TODD: Let’s… cut to commercial.

[Image: 2YpaDqV.png]

XWF REBELLION '25
FORGET YOUR FOMO - TURNS OUT WE TAPED IT

SIGN UP NOW and Watch the Full Replay of REBELLION for FREE* only on: XWF99.com!

*With a small, one-time, 1,289 month commitment to the XWF X-STREAMing Service™
- Notarized Cashier’s Check and Blood of First Born Required -
*Otherwise it’s $19.99

TODD: Whoops, wrong commercial. Kind of rude to be playing that after what just happened between Shark and Summer…

STARS: Nah, screw that! You wanna find out what Summer was talking about? See who retained and what new champs came out victorious that night? Miss the shocking ending to the PPV? Wanna rewatch for funsies? Pay the man!

TODD: Let’s… just get back to the action.

STARS: Only you could ruin a commercial segment, Todd.

[Image: wireline.png]




A crow caws.

The lights flicker, as the anxiety-inducing first few chords of Dies Irae erupt across the stadium. As all lights center to the top of the stage, creating a path of light down to the ring. Fans erupt into screams, as the Inquisitor's faithful murder whip out their flashlights. The Inquisitor walks out onto the ramp, clad in his leather trench-coat, gloved hands in and full-black getup.

STARS: SENOR INQUISITIONES!

TODD: Jesus.

STARS: It’s pronounced Hey Zeus.

TODD: No. No it’s not. There’s no Spanish Inquisition. It’s just Inquisition!

The eye-rings around his mask glint in the light, and you can almost feel him smile through it.

STARS: Say that to his face, senor!

With a sudden burst, he dashes down the ring, sliding under the third rope. Throwing his arms out to his side, and his head in the air, he breathes in the sweet sound of fear and adoration. His hands jerk to grasp their opposite shoulders, in a self-hug of sorts. Giving himself a quick squeeze, he runs his hands along his shoulders and across his throat like blades before turning to face the entrance way.

TODD: Inquisition looks primed and ready to go here tonight.

STARS: Don’t call it a comeback. Or a redemption arc. Inquisition may be primed, but there’s a Storm. Coming. In. Saint Louis. Missouri!



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. Latoya Hixx follows him to the ring, remaining outside the squared circle to support Razor Blade.

TODD: What a class act.

STARS: Lifetime achievement award winner.

TODD: Gave his American Nightmare belt to the kid in the Blake shirt.

STARS: Who the fuck is Blake?

TODD: Maybe he thinks it’s a Blade shirt.

DING! DING! DING!

The match starts with high velocity offense from Razor Blade, as the "American Nightmare" barrels out of his corner like a bullet from a gun! He's on Inquisition in no time, taking the fight to the masked man. Blade unloads with a flurry of punches and elbows that force Inquisition back against the ropes, then Blade irish whips Inquisition into the ropes and drops him with a shoulder check on the rebound. Inquisition quickly scurries up to his feet, but Razor Blade is there waiting for him. Razor catches Inquisition with a running bulldog, driving both men down to the mat! Latoya Hixx cheers on her teammate outside the ring, getting the crowd involved by leading a "RAZ-OR!" chant.


Razor hooks the leg as the referee drops to make the count!


1!


KICKOUT!

TODD: Quick kickout by Inquisition there.

STARS: I’m surprised that Blake even got a one count there.

TODD: Well, you know that Inquisition promised to unravel the surface-dwellers, including Razor Blade here tonight. He’s not going to go down easy.

STARS: No, I’m legitimately surprised Raisin Blade got a chance to pin this dude’s shoulders to the mat. He moves around the ring like a…

TODD: Sleep paralysis demon?

STARS: gasp…YES!

Inquisition kicks out hard, shoving Razor off with authority. Undeterred, Razor drags him up and whips him hard into the corner, following it up with a punishing clothesline! Inquisition slumps into the corner, and Razor hoists him up for a quick snap suplex back to the center of the ring! Inquisition clutches his lower back as the entire canvas shakes!

STARS: Alright. Full stop.

TODD: What?

STARS: Do I have to give Raisin Blade credit? That snap suplex was sick!

TODD: Well, yeah. The American Nightmare is in peak physical condition. As is his partner at ringside.

STARS: Damn shame, really.

TODD: Why do you say-

STARS: Because-

TODD: No. Nevermind. I don’t want to know.

Razor Blade gets back to his feet quickly, and he tries to drag Inquisition up with him: but the masked figure is too quick! Inquisition sweeps Blade's feet out from under him, causing him to crash back to the mat. Inquisition then charges back towards the ropes. Razor Blade quickly gets back up to his feet, only to be met with a dropkick from Inquisition! Both men fall back to the mat, with the momentum shifting into Inquisition's favor!

TODD: More of those paralysis demon-like movements!

STARS: You think he’s got the pigeons hidden under the ring or something?

TODD: Man, I really don’t know. Inquisition looks like he lives under the ring.

STARS: Fucker is unnerving. That’s for sure. Variety is the spice of our brand, Flod.

TODD: And The American Nightmare is our backbone!

Latoya continues leading crowd chants, but nothing the crowd says seems to help Razor out inside that ring. Inquisition begins picking him apart like a slab of meat. Inquisition delivers a slew of strikes and kicks to his grounded opponent before locking in a headlock on Razor Blade. Inquisition squeezes tight, and it looks like Razor is getting close to the edge of consciousness, with no rope break in sight.

But Latoya Hixx continues leading crowd chants!

And this time...they actually seem to be working!

TODD: The crowd seems to be really getting behind Raisin Blake here. Damnit, now you’ve got me doing it.

STARS: 550ish people packing this Athletic hall, and a good portion of that are kids. So of course, they look up to Blade and Hixx because they share the same grade in elementary school.

TODD: What do you have against nice people?

STARS: …you literally just put the answer in the question.

With the support of the crowd, Razor Blade slowly works his way back to his feet despite the tight headlock. As the crowd chants, stomps, and claps in tune with Latoya Hixx, Razor Blade struggles and fights back to his feet. Then, once both men are standing, Razor Blade runs to the ropes, forcing Inquisition to release the hold and go flying forward! The crowd is on their feet cheering for Blade as Inquisition hits the opposite ropes.

Razor Blade prepares a scoopslam for Inquisition, but the wily coyote has other plans!

Inquisition decks Razor Blade with a lariat that nearly takes his head off!

STARS: Aha! And there goes your momentum you bum.

TODD: That’s not very-

STARS: Say it.

TODD: On second thought. We’ve got to have the American Nightmare Razor Blade and The Storm Layota Hixx teaming up for our next episode of Anarchy. It would be on brand for them to feature on the 4th of July eve celebration!

STARS: I mean, I can put a flag on my hover round. It really don’t mean anything.

TODD: That’s because you don’t represent anyone or anything but yourself.

Latoya Hixx screams bloody murder at ringside as the fans stand there stunned. Razor Blade was finally taking back the momentum, but now, the Inquisition is back in charge! Inquisition delivers another slew of blows to his grounded opponent as Latoya Hixx looks on helplessly, covering her gaping mouth as stands there with a shocked face. Inquisition pulls no punches, beating on his grounded opponent in the most devastating of fashions!

Inquisition surveys the building, getting a sense of the crowd's awe. Inquisition looks down at Razor before turning his head towards Latoya. Inquisition smirks, before he hits the ropes hard, rebounding back....and running right past Razor Blade.....

SUICIDE DIVE TO THE OUTSIDE!

Latoya sees it coming and tries to scramble, but Inquisition is too fast! He soars through the air like a missile and takes her out with brutal precision! Both bodies hit the barricade hard as the crowd pops like crazy, and Inquisition is back on his feet in no time flat.

TODD: Holy guacamole! Did you just see that?

STARS: No one expects the Spanish Inquisition to go flying through the ropes like that!

TODD: …

STARS: Yes, I saw it. I loved it. And now I’m a fan.

TODD: You… had Layota Hixx come out here tonight on purpose, didn’t you?

STARS: …maybe.

TODD: You bastard!

Inquisition quickly climbs up the ringside apron before making his way atop the turnbuckle. Then, Inquisition leaps from the air and back into the ring with a magnificent moonsault! Inquisition gets so much air that he nearly collides with the ceiling- but thankfully he doesn't!

HE JUST COLLIDES WITH RAZOR BLADE!


Inquisition hooks the leg!



1!




2!!!




KICKOUT!!!

STARS: No effin’ way!

TODD: RAZOR BLADE IS STILL IN THIS! HE HAS THE HEART OF A CHAMPION JIMBO!

STARS: I’LL CUT YOU!

Somehow, someway, Razor Blade still has some fight left in him! Inquisition can't believe it, but this crowd can! The crowd once again begins chanting 'RAZ-OR!", this time unprovoked by Latoya: who is still laying flat on the canvas outside the mat!

TODD: No, you won’t. Cause that would qualify me for workman's compensation!

STARS: …fair point.

TODD: You need to be paying attention to the match, just like Inquistion needs to be paying attention to his opponent!

Inquisition slams the mat in frustration as Razor Blade slowly begins to stir. Razor crawls over towards the ropes, but Inquisition stalks him like a predator, just waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Razor Blade uses the ropes to help him get back to his feet, but he's looking dazed and confused. Razor takes a wobbly step away from the ropes as he looks around for Inquisition...but it's too late! Inquisition is already positioned behind Razor Blade, and as Razor takes a few more wobbly steps, Inquisition grabs him from behind!

TODD: The movements are unreal!

Inquisition pulls Razor Blade into Justicia's Cross, a crucifix bomb into a pin! The crowd goes nuts as Inquisition pulls out his big move for the first time live on XWF: Anarchy!

STARS: Raisin has no chance! He just got snatched right up into Justicia’s cross!

TODD: Cover!

The referee makes the count!



1!





2!!






3!!!


WINNER: INQUISITION


TODD: Well, if that’s what Inquisition is capable of, then I think he just put the Anarchy locker room on notice!

STARS: He just put me on notice. I gotta hide all of my valuables. And lock the basement at home.

TODD: I heard you live in a trailer.

STARS: Oh yeah, that’s right. I don’t have a basement. Thank god.

TODD: Layota Hixx is helping Razor Blade back to the back. There’s always next week for them. But for us, there’s always the next match!

[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: “Up next, folks—what a clash of momentum versus malice! Damián Santos, the clever, calculating upstart, versus the raw force of nature known as Mister Oz!”



The sound of a record screeching to a halt echoes around the arena as Kendrick Lamar's voice begins to boom through the PA system.

"NOBODY PRAY FOR ME!"

"IT BEEN THAT DAY FOR ME!"

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAY- YEAH! YEAH!"

HUMBLE begins to play in full as Damián Santos bursts out through the camera with a full head of steam, talking shit to the camera before posing with vigor. He looks ahead to the ring, letting a smile spread on his face as he walks down to the ring, shadow boxing as he does so to keep himself focused.

TODD: Damián Santos had a less than stellar debut at Rebellion… Against Doctor Holly Cambric, he was jabbed with a mysterious syringe moments after the bell rung… And from there, it was academic.

STARS: You only get one chance to make a first impression with your audience, Todd, and young Damián did not nail his. Damn these kids and their designer drug addictions.

TODD: But, this is his first match on Anarchy! And you know what they say, Jimmy! Any given Thursday, with the right plan and execution, you can pick up a big win! And he’s not a drug addict. He was poisoned.

STARS: You expect me to believe that?

TODD: It happened live in front of 70 thousand people!

STARS: You expect me to believe them?

Damián rolls under the bottom rope to come into the ring, finding the far turnbuckle as he climbs upwards to soak in the boos. He finds the nearby camera, flexing his muscles again before hopping down into the ring. He lets the referee pat him down for any weapons, nodding to them before giving them a friendly reminder to be sure to do the same to his opponent before the match begins.



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 the Rebellion pre-show, Oz looked absolutely DOMINANT at Rebellion! After a close back-and-forth fight with Inquisition at MayDay, Oz went to town on the bizarrely violent and violently bizarre creature and won their rematch in exacting fashion!

STARS: And you know what I think inspired that rage? That focus? FURY! Oz has been one of the monsters of the XWF for years and he gets shoved onto the pre-show! I don’t know who made that error but Oz punished Inquisition for it at Rebellion… And he might not be done doling out punishment…

TODD: Look out, Damián!

As Oz slides into the ring, Santos starts pointing and demanding the official check him for weapons1

STARS: Santos clearly learned his lesson from last time! Doctor Holly Cambric snuck in a weapon for his match, and he’s not letting that happen twice!

TODD: Now you’re admitting it?

STARS: Admitting what?

TODD: That Holly drugged Santos?

STARS: No, she didn’t. If he wasn’t so drunk on bath bombs or whatever, Doctor Holly wouldn’t have been able to attack him with that syringe!

TODD: …

…The official approaches Oz….

Who stares ominously down at the meek man in black-and-white stripes… Before offering his wrists for inspection…

The entire time the official inspects Oz though… Oz is staring daggers at Santos! Santos bobs lightly from foot to foot. His lips are pursed in measured breath. His eyes dart to Oz’s legs—scanning, strategizing.

TODD: I think Oz feels like Santos may have just impugned on his honor as a competitor by suggesting he’d need to bring a weapon to the ring…

Satisfied that their search turned up nothing, the official signals to the timekeeper!

MISTER OZ
- vs -
DAMIÀN SANTOS
Singles Match


The moment the bell rings, Damián lunges forward suddenly with a quick low kick, ker-ACKING against Oz’s thigh!

TODD: Oh my! Santos typically describes himself as a counter-attacker but he’s starting out swinging!

STARS: I think Dame knows if he lets Oz take a swing and it comes anywhere close to connecting? This match ain’t gonna last long!

Oz’s hand shoots to cover his thigh, backing up a step… Santos follows up with a kick to Oz’s side… Oz’s hand shoots to cover there… But by then Santos has also circled to take Oz’s backside, stomping down on his calf!

TODD: Santos’ strikes are precise and tactical—he’s trying to take out Oz’s base early!

STARS: You wanna bring down the biggest redwood in the forest? It’s gonna take a lot of strikes! But this redwood can strike back, Druggie Dame!

TODD: He’s not a drug addict!

STARS: How do you know?

While Oz’s jaw flexes as Santos’ kicks land, his eyes never flinch. His massive body barely shifts with each blow.

Oz delivers a backfist!

…That Santos narrowly ducks under! Santos tries to surprise Oz by zooming from behind back to Oz’s front and launching another kick to Oz’s obliques…

…But this time, Oz catches Santos’ boot!

TODD: Uh oh!

Damián’s eyes widen. He hops on one foot, trying to yank his leg from Oz’s grip…

But Oz YANKS Santos forward…

And LEVELS him with a SHOULDER BLOCK!

Santos goes flipping end-over-end…. twice!

TODD: Whoa! What an impact! Oz hit Damián like a freight train!

STARS: Oz hit him like the fifteenth puff of canned air!

TODD: …

STARS: Not that I would know.

Damián lays on the mat, wincing, clutching his ribs. His head rolls sideways to locate Mister Oz—too late. Oz yanks him up by the wrist like he’s a paperweight!

…Santos’ face contorts in shock… As Oz’s expression is tight with the tension of unspoken rage.

Oz pauses, staring down, putting the fear of GOD in Santos…

Before exploding into action, scooping Santos in a front-facelock!

He heaves him into the air, in suplex position…
…

Hoooooooooooolds him aloft!

…

Oz actually executes a knee-bend, while holding Santos perfectly vertical in the air!

TODD: Oh my God! Oz is doing squats mid-suplexing Damián Santos!

STARS: That’s right OZZY, get your workout in!

Damián’s face contorts midair—shock fading into panic, as Oz extends his body out of the squat.

…

…Aaaaaaaaaaaaand!

WHAM!

Like a jackhammer plowing into concrete, Oz PLANTS Santos into the mat!

Delayed Vertical Suplex!

TODD: The strength of Mister Oz! The sheer power! That move was a STATEMENT!

STARS: And the statement is: You should’ve put me on the damn main card!

TODD: He’s got a point.

…Damián groans, rolling to the ropes, desperation painting his face in sweat and grit. He grabs the bottom rope like a lifeline, and as Oz approaches again, once more gripping Santos by the scruff of the neck…

But this time, Santos jabs his thumb in Oz’s eye! Lightning-quick!

Oz covers his face, staggering back! As the crowd boos, the official squints… having missed the illegal maneuver that took place right in front of him!

TODD: Santos calls himself the heeliest heel to ever heel! He masterfully blurred that eye poke in with a defensive reach!

STARS: Hey, don’t knock it! That’s guerrilla marketing—get eyes on you by attacking eyes! Hurts the Neilson ratings a bit, but the kids brain is like the fried egg in that drug commercial.

TODD: The Neilson ratings system does not work like that!

Oz staggers for a beat, blinking rapidly. Damián seizes the opening—he runs the ropes and leaps…
CROSSBODY!
…
NO! Oz catches Santos in midair!

TODD: Oh dear! Santos had a brief window of opportunity, but he’s once again wound up in No Man’s Land!

STARS: At this point, I think anywhere inside a ring that Mister Oz is also in? Is No Man’s Land! Perhaps Druggy Dame should take some LSD or something and escape to the metaphysical realm while he still can. Cause his physical ass belongs to Oz.

TODD: …

Damián’s eyes go wide—he kicks furiously, slapping at Oz’s head, desperately doing anything to escape...

But Oz gorilla presses Santos above his head in one fluid motion!

…

THEN DRIVES HIM DOWN ONTO OZ’S EXTENDED KNEE!

Gorilla Press GUTBUSTER!

TODD: WOW! What a maneuver!

STARS: That hurt just looking at it! It’s like a twelve step program all at once!

Santos rebounds off Oz’s knee, cradling his gut, struggling to breathe!

Oz raises an arm to the crowd and they screeeeeeeeeam for Mister Oz!

Damián now crawls to a corner, breathing ragged, wiping blood from his mouth. His face is a mess of pain and calculation.

Oz drops his arms… drawing a thumb across his throat!

TODD: Oz signalling that he’s ready to put Santos out of his misery!

Oz bends down over the broken Santos, going to grip him by the shoulders…

…

But Santos scrambles, crawling between Oz’s legs!

TODD: Unbelievable! Santos isn’t done yet!

STARS: Done fighting? Or done trying to survive?

Once he’s behind Oz, Santos reaches up, going for a schoolboy!

TODD: Santos has said he’s got the best schoolboy in the business! On the independent circuit, he’s stolen many, many matches with that schoolboy!

…

Here it comes…

…

Santos tugs with all his might…

…

Nope. Oz is a brick wall. Absolutely unmovable.

TODD: …Miscalculation by Santos. He can’t even budge Oz!

STARS: It’s like trying to roll a marble pillar! It ain’t happening! I don’t care how many drugs you’re on!

TODD: He’s not on drugs, damnit!

Oz looks down, insulted. Damián swallows hard, caught frozen in his foolish attempt. The crowd’s laughter stings.

Oz steps back, letting Damián fall onto his own back. He glares, then kneels beside the young man, who is now trembling beneath him. Damián raises a hand in pleading instinct.

Oz grabs him by the jaw.

Damián’s eyes dart—left, right—looking for escape.

Too late!

Oz jams his gloved fingers into Damián’s mouth and throat with a violent precision!

I FAILED YOU!

His eyes bulge with righteous fury. Damián thrashes, arms flailing—

TODD: I Failed You! It’s locked in! The Mandible Claw!

STARS: Oh my god—he’s not just making a statement, he’s checking this kid’s uvula for residue!

TODD: I… can’t even.

Damián’s legs kick desperately as Oz lowers him to the mat…

“I’m sorry…”

…The kicks begin to slow…

“I’m sorry…”

…Santos’ hands fall limp.

The official calls for the bell!

WINNER: MISTER OZ


Oz slowly releases the hold. His breathing is deep, methodical. He rises with slow dignity, standing tall over Damián's body. He doesn’t gloat. He doesn’t speak.

He stares into the hard camera—eyes burning with purpose.

STARS: That is the man who got bumped to the pre-show?! Well, I can PROMISE you, in the Jimmy Stars era of Anarchy, Oz will be getting the star treatment!

TODD: Agreed! Another absolutely dominating performance by Mister Oz! Keep up the amazing work, you machine.

STARS:  And Damian will be getting drug tested! That was a clear oversight on my part.

TODD: UGH.

STARS: It’s only because I care, Larry.

TODD: IT’S TODD!

[Image: wireline.png]

A BRIEF INTERMISSION


[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: Pardon me for my earlier outburst. Welcome back to XWF Anarchy. As many of you know, just 19 days ago at XWF Rebellion, our longtime color-commentator, and my dear friend BAMA T called his last match in XWF as the two of us had the pleasure of witnessing a THRILLER between King Justin York and the Alleged Micheal Graves.

STARS: ….

Jimmy appears to be lost for words in this emotional moment. That, or he’s eating crackers without trying to look like he’s eating crackers.

There’s crumbs on the hoveround.

TODD: I know it’s tough, Jimmy. But tonight, we’re taking the photographs… the still frames in our minds…. and we’re hanging them on a self in good health and good time.

So join us, as we take a trip down memory lane, and pay tribute to one of the greatest to ever call a match in this booth!

There's a hush over the crowd as a montage begins on the ANARCHOTron

TODD: …

STARS: …well that’s what I’m calling it…

TODD: Shh!



As the melancholy melodies of Green Day seep through the sound system, we hear:

OH, BAAAABY!

[Image: MiQI1iw.png]


Eliciting a huge pop from the crowd as the video reel plays clips of the one, the only, BAMA T. and his trusted companion, Sassafras.

We see Bama smiling, feeding Sass treats from his letterman jacket.

We see Bama waving to the crowd, and then a shot of him making a funny face, first to Vinnie Lane, then the image morphs into Bama making the same face at Todd Moschitti.


Vinnie Lane: "AI versus a sentient Squirrel! Only on Anarchy, dude!"

Bama: "It would actually be sapient, baby! Since Squirrel 41 can speak and appears to work within some kind of hive mind. Ya see Vinnie!-


Vinnie Lane: “Jamaican Jimmy just barely kicked out!”

Bama: “His goose is cooked…mon!”


SCREE SCREE SCREE SCREE

Bama: "Dang, baby, what’s that sound?!"

Vinnie Lane: "I don’t know but it HURTS, dude!"

SCREE SCREE SCREE SCREE

Bama: "It’s them Bingo Twins, dawg."

Indeed, Da Bing Bong Twinzz are making their way to the ring…


[Image: xpGRmOc.png]



We go to the ring where Alex Kincaid is already standing in one corner.

Bama: "Never a good sign when you’re already in the ring.”

Vinnie Lane: "I don’t even know who this guy is!”


We see a shot of Bama announcing his retirement, the crowd chanting “BAM-A! BAM-A!” as Bama holds back tears.


Vinnie Lane: “Holy crap! Sid just won the Anarchy Championship!”!


Bama: “Centurion can’t believe it! He was watching from the top of the ramp and just stormed off behind the curtain! WOW!”


BAMA T: "Sean Parker showed incredible skill and determination tonight. A well-deserved victory for the new Anarchy Champion! And before we go, I wanna say Merry Christmas to all our fans out there! Keep the spirit alive, baby!"

TODD: "Bama, remember, we've got a diverse audience celebrating all sorts of holidays this season. So, from all of us here at ANARCHY, Happy Holidays to everyone, no matter what you're celebrating!"

BAMA T: "You're right, Todd. Happy Holidays to everyone! Stay safe and enjoy the festivities!"


The video ends on a still frame of Bama, clutching Sassafras in one arm, and raising his other in the air with a closed fist.

TODD: …uhm *choking* ...hrm *sniffling* ...let’s get back to the… action..

[Image: wireline.png]



"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.

TODD: Larry Tact! Former Television champion and reigning star of the month!

STARS: Bastard making millions off of his Tactalizing Self-Help Program. Wouldn’t let me manage the logistics for a small cut.

TODD: Let me guess. 6.9 percent?

STARS: How did you…?

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.



The honeyed rasp of Atara's voice blares over the facility's PA in unison with those words appearing on the multitude of screens and displays littering the arena.

HELLO DOVES

The crowd pops and gets to their feet shouting in near total unison a single word.

OPA!

TODD:  Atara Raven! Wrestling industry royalty! Last time we saw her in an Anarchy ring, she won the X-Treme title from Dominick Strife, who we all thought was un-TOUCHABLE on Anarchy!

STARS: As Dom’s manager, let me assure you that that was a fluke and ninety-nine times out of one-hundred, Dom takes that match. But because Dom not only disobeyed me, but strayed from my path, he kinda had that one coming. Dumb kid.

TODD: That’s not very nice… wait. You’re not very nice.

STARS: Thank you. With that being said, Atara is capable of some incredible things when you underestimate her. I wonder if she needs a manager.

TODD: You’re the General Manager of our brand!

STARS: Oh, right.

Arena lights start to pulse in time with the music and multiple vertical streams of pyro erupt across the front of stage. Strutting with purpose Atara emerges from the back taking spot centerstage atop the ramp. Posing for the camera, a wink and kiss is given to the viewers at home.

Grunge walking to the ringsteps, she climbs and stops at the top to posture again for her adoring public. Hand on her hip, the Grecian moves to the middle of the apron to blows a final kiss to the camera and enters the ring through the middle rope.


LARRY TACT
- vs -
ATARA RAVEN

Singles


The match-up between these two contrasting in-ring ideologies of Atty and Tact starts off with a nice showing of wrestling prowess. Both incredibly seasoned tacticians trade off with various grapples, lock ups and light slams.

TODD: OH! Atara Raven showing her in ring acumen here early. Flipping out of Tact’s collar and elbow, and bringing the big man down with a fireman's carry slam.

STARS: Does it look good? Sure. But is it effective? I’d beg to differ. Atara Raven might have all of the experience in the world… but Tact might have even more. It’s going to take a lot more than some fancy rasslin’ moves to put down Tact.

TODD: You mean like Aur-

STARS: Don’t you DARE say her FUCKING NAME.

TODD: Oh, touched a nerve, did I?

STARS: Tact. Tact tact tact tact tact.

TODD: So now you’re just going to repeat Larry’s name like a child.

STARS: You could talk about Atara Raven, you know, the Greek Goddess gracing you with her presence right here, right now, tonight?!

After Atty tries wearing Tact down with a headlock, the big man powers through, showing an incredible feat of strength by muscling Atty up and into a running powerslam. Her body thrashes off the mat.

TODD: That was one stiff powerslam there, Jimmy. Larry is looking to take control here.

STARS: It’s Mister Stars to you, you fuck.

TODD: You said earlier I could call you Jimmy.

STARS: I lied.

TODD: Okay Jimmy.

STARS: Are you ready to give me my due now, Todd? I know you’re not used to sitting with someone who actually has an eye for pro wrestling…

TODD: I don’t really appreciate you taking shots at Bama that way.

STARS: Shots? Heh… Nothing I say is a “Shot” I’m calling balls and strikes out here, bucko.

TODD: I haven’t seen any balls from you, Jimmy.

STARS: Ooh, we’re going to make a great team, I just know it.

Tact with the cover!


1!



2!!



ATTY STAYS ALIVE!

TODD: You’re out here being a little bitch. And yet there’s the Atara Raven we all know and love, showing true grit out there in the ring. Perhaps you could take a lesson sometime?

STARS: True Grit was a fictional western starring John Wayne. True Tact is what we’re watching here which is a non-fictional beat down of Atara, by the Tactilizing one!

TODD: But I thought you said Atara was a Goddess-

STARS: Changed my mind! It happens, Brod!

Tact seizes full control of the match. He hits a gut wrench suplex, a snap powerbomb, and a full nelson throw into the corner, where he begins ramming Atty over and over, shoulder to gut until she plops on her rear.

TODD: Look… say what you will, but this is Atara’s first time back in an XWF ring in months, and right now Tact, our star of the month, is clearly firing on all cylinders.

STARS: Months you say? Hmmm… hasn’t been long enough to look this bad.

TODD: You know, it wasn’t too long ago when the narrative around Larry Tact was about him shaking off rust and getting acclimated to the XWF’s pace. While he’s clearly done that now, make no mistake… Atty WILL learn from this, and she will get better… she always does.

STARS: *yawns* sorry, were you saying something?

After stomping a mudhole in Atty, Tact drags her limb body out of the corner. He climbs the turnbuckle…

TODD: Uh oh! Tact isn’t really a high-flyer!

STARS: The man can afford the risk here, Todd’o… CLEARLY!

He dives from the top rope with…



THE DIVE TO BLUE ELBOW DROP!!!!!!!!









— AND ATTY ROLLS OUT OF THE WAY!!!!

TODD: Clearly not!

STARS: Whatever… let’s just hope Larry didn’t break a hip.
   

Tact slams against the mat, and Atty leaps to her feet.

She trunks to the crowd and starts firing them up with an OPA chant. This gym is clearly behind the Aphrodite Incarnate. She belly dances, waiting for Tact to get to his feet, and just when he does?

A RUNNING HIP ATTACK!


And before he can fall?



GERMAN SUPLEX!



She bridges it into a pinfall!



1!







2!!








TACT ESCAPES!


TODD: Oh my, Atty nearly won this thing!

STARS: Bahhh… Never had a doubt.

TODD: Sure you did!

STARS: …

With Tact reeling, Atty again finds herself standing, clapping, chanting, dancing, DOVING UP HER POWERS!

TODD: She’s feeding off the crowd here, this could be dangerous!!


Tact gets to his feet, and Atty rushes in…




JUDGEMENT FROM PARIS KNEE STRIKE!!!!!








IS DODGED!




TACT SCOOPS ATTY UP ON HIS SHOULDERS AND INTO A TORTURE RACK!

STARS: Dangerous, indeed!



SIT OUT POWERBOMB!


TODD: TACTILIZER! TACTILIZER!

STARS: Calm down, dude. This is elementary.


Tact hooks the leg…




1!







2!!






3!!!


WINNER - LARRY TACT!


TODD: I’ve gotta hand it to you this time, Jimmy. You were right. Nothing was stopping our Star of the Month tonight. Larry Tact is on a roll!

STARS: Could you compliment me with something original, Todd? I hear things like ‘you were right’ and ‘good call’ and ‘damn you really know your stuff’ all of the time. Be courteous, will ya? Besides, Captain Future told me this would happen.

TODD: …

STARS: What?

TODD: You son of a-

The show fades to commercial as the ref raises Tact’s arm in the air.

[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: Folks, this next match will be a sight to behold! These two competitors have never faced off before, literally anything could happen!



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.

STARS: ‘Spoiled’ Summer Page! Thoroughly marketable! And quasi-attached to former Universal champion, James Shark! What an asset!

TODD: But that friendship with James Shark caused Charlie Nickles to attack Summer with a barbed wire bat before Rebellion! We’re happy to see Summer back in the ring, but after an experience like that, is she ready?

STARS: Whaddya talking about, Todd? Of course, she’s ready! It’s Summer SZN! Look at her! She can’t wait to compete for the best show in the XWF’s entertainment empire!

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.

TODD: Well, Summer is one of the best on Anarchy’s roster! To date, she has been undefeated in non-title matches for over one year! An-



TODD: Wait, what?!? Charlie Nickles! He’s not competing until the main event!

STARS: This is what makes Thursday must-see TV! Anything can happen! It’s ANARCHY! The Universal champion could’ve killed Summer last show… and now he’s coming to finish the job!

…Inside the ring, Summer’s face turns to a furious scowl… She takes a fighting stance, ready to swing!

A ghoulish figure in a Demos mask lumbers out onto the ramp with a hideous scowl on his face to a mixed reaction from the crowd.

TODD: I can’t believe it! It’s…

…

TODD: Wait. That’s not Charlie.

STARS: Not unless he’s gotten six inches shorter since Warfare.

Wearing a false beard designed to look scraggly and unkempt like the Nickleman… And sporting Nickles’ trademark trackpants-based outfit… It’s Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing!

TODD: It’s Sir Lionel! What the hell’s he doing dressed like the Universal champion?

STARS: …I’m receiving word from my sources that… apparently, he considers this part of his media tour? To promote his appearance playing the part of Charlie Nickles in the Anarchy champion’s promo this week!

TODD: …What? He’s promoting a promo that already dropped?

Sir Lionel eerily marches down the ramp, perfectly recreating the mannerisms of the Nickleman…

(though he does allow himself a wink to the camera as he passes… as this message flashes across the screen)

PRESENTED FOR YOUR AWARD SEASON CONSIDERATION


…Inside the ring, Summer’s face turns to a furious scowl…

TODD: Oh dear… it looks like one person isn’t a fan of Sir Lionel’s method acting… and that’s Summer Page!

Sir Lionel hop-steps up the ramp, before stopping on the second step and delivering a trademark Nickleman sneer… before raising his hands…

”BANG-BANG!” He delivers Charlie’s signature gesture, in a surprisingly accurate impression of a resident of Steubenville, Ohio!

The crowd is half-horrified, half-howling with laughter, as Lionel finishes clambering up the steps and through the ropes

TODD: Well, Sir Lionel, while he seems to aim to win an award for his acting performances, he hasn’t won many matches since joining the XWF roster… Perhaps he thinks these mind games will help him end Summer Page’s undefea-

The moment Pennyfarthing enters the ring, Page jumps him!

TODD: Whoa! Summer not taking kindly to Lionel’s acting job and she’s giving him criticisms… with her fists!

The official, flustered by this, signals for the bell to ring!

DING DING!

SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
SIR LIONEL PENNYFARTHING
Singles Match


STARS: If Pennyfarthing’s aim was to exploit Page’s recent trauma… It looks like all it did was piss Page off!

The usually more technically-minded Page pulls Lionel’s tracksuit jacket over his head like a hockey player and starts hammering him with punches to the gut!

The official finally steps up to break it up…

STARS: There ya go, ref! Step in! Sir Lionel wasn’t even ready, he didn’t even get a chance to monologue!

Sir Lionel meekly mews, cradling his protruding gut in the corner… The official asks if he’s ready to be-

Summer grabs Sir Lionel the arm he’s cradling to his chest and pulls him forward!

Lou Thesz Press!

TODD: Wow! We’ve seen Page get aggressive in the ring, but she is absolutely on a TEAR tonight!

Lionel’s eyes bulge with surprise as his back hits the mat… His beard-wig comes askew, as Summer mounts him, fists flying.

WHAM! WHAM! Each punch is punctuated by a scream of catharsis and fury.

TODD: Wow! Summer Page doesn't just want to beat Sir Lionel—she wants to erase the memory of the man he's portraying!

Sir Lionel flails theatrically, trying to shield his face with exaggerated flops of his arms, limbs wriggling like a man caught in a Shakespearean tempest!

“Unhand me, you wretched wench! Tis but a performance!”

STARS: Ooooh, sounds like Lionel just broke character… What will the Academy think of that?!?

Summer rips him up by the lapels of his Nickleman tracksuit, before whipping him into the ropes, her arms moving with tight, purposeful snaps!

Lionel staggers back, still halfway in character, arms flung wide like he’s delivering Hamlet’s soliloquy as he dashes across the ring…

Summer executes a perfectly-timed standing switch, wrapping her arms around Lionel just as he passes…

AND RIPPING HIM BACKWARDS AGAINST THE MAT!

Snap German Suplex WITH AUTHORITY!

TODD: Wow! Incredible power on display by Summer Page!

The official drops to count!

1!

2!

THR-NO!

Lionel kicks out!

TODD: Lionel kicks out?!? I can’t believe he wants this match to continue!

STARS: Lionel’s an addict for stagetime! He may not understand wrestling, but he gets that when the three-count happens, he’s done performing for the night!

Summer kips up, her face locked in calm fury now. She spins with fluid precision… as Lionel, cradling his head, gingerly rises up, bending forward…

WHAM! Summer nails a High Knee to Lionel’s jaw!

TODD: Summer is not letting up for one second on Sir Lionel! Pennyfarthing is totally outmatched here!

Lionel reels back off Summer’s knee, spinning on his heels and flopping like he’s been shot—landing back against the ropes, cradling his chest… as if ready to deliver a death monologue…

But Summer doesn’t give him the opportunity! She dives forward for a crossbody against the ropes!

…

BUT LIONEL DUCKS IT!

Summer goes chest first into the ropes, her arm tangling! She’s trapped!

TODD: Wow! If you asked me before this match if Lionel was a quick guy, I would have said no! But somehow he had the intuition and wherewithal to dodge Summer’s attack!

STARS: You know what they say, Todd! Acting is reacting!

Summer gives a brief, mocking smirk, as if to say “This is the big threat?” She bounces off the ropes with ease, springboards into a Tornado DDT, Lionel’s cravat flapping like a white flag mid-spin.

Lionel tumbles forward to the center of the ring… his face twists into a wild, desperate inspiration. He scrambles around… and sees Summer trapped…

…He smiles insidiously.

Lionel’s tongue extends outward, as he taps into his thespian spirit to channel Charlie Nickles’ mania!

…Summer sees him from the corner of her eye… And furiously tries to free herself from the tangled ropes…

TODD: Summer’s a sitting duck! This CAN’T be how Summer’s undefeated streak ends, can it?

STARS: Hey, Genghis Khan died falling off his horse… You don’t get to pick how a reign of dominance ends! And Summer’s might end tonight! To Lionel Pennyfarthing AS Charlie Nickles!

Lionel creeps behind Summer, feeling the crowd buzz for the absurdity, before throwing up finger guns and yelling…

“BANG BANG!”

Then, suddenly serious, Pennyfarthing hooks both Summer’s arms…

TODD: There’s NO WAY! Lionel’s going for the Devil Hook Drop!

STARS: Charlie Nickles’ finishing move!

Lionel snarls with evil intent in his eyes!


DEVIL HOOK DROP!


…


IS COUNTERED!

Page twists out of the hook!

Lionel looks shocked, like he hadn’t read to this part in the script…

WHAM! Boot to the gut from Page to Pennyfarthing!

Summer wraps Lionel in a front facelock!

TODD: Summer going for a finish over her own!

Summer lifts Pennyfarthing…

Bridges!

PURE PERFECTION! (Perfect-Plex!)

TODD: Summer calls that move Pure Perfection!

STARS: And there ain’t no move in wrestling with a name that describes itself better, Todd.

Summer holds the bridge!

The official counts!

1!

2!

THREE!

WINNER: SUMMER PAGE


TODD: What a dominant performance by Summer Page! She recently celebrated her one-year anniversary as an Anarchy superstar, and she remains undefeated in non-title matches!

STARS: But more than that, Todd! She created INTEREST! She made clear that she’s got ANIMOSITY for Charlie Nickles! If she… and Charlie… AND James Shark! Are all going to keep making Anarchy appearances! That’s a match, tinder and dynamite all packed together! And you can watch it detonate live by staying tuned!

Summer sits up slowly, her chest heaving, her expression unreadable—part vindicated, part exhausted. She stares down at Lionel, now sprawled on the mat with his fake mustache sliding halfway off his face, mouthing “Brava… brava…” through a woozy daze.

She stands, brushing her hair from her face, raising one fist in victory.

And with that—no posing, no posturing—she leaves.

TODD: Well, Lionel may be the first man to get an Oscar for appearing in a wrestling promo, but he didn’t get the win tonight!

STARS: Nor did he make friends with Summer Page!

As Summer exits the ring, Lionel lifts a hand skyward from the mat.

“Is this… not… a stage divine?”

The crowd laughs and applauds his curtain call as he collapses onto his back like a possum feigning death.

STARS: Godspeed, Sir Pennyfarthing. Whatever the fuck a Pennyfarthing is.

TODD: Ugh.

STARS: Hey, listen, forget the weird dude. Summer SZN is continuing on her streak of being undefeated in title matches, yet, suspiciously unvictorious any time the gold is on the line. It makes one have to wonder, will her next opportunity break the trend.

TODD: Are you saying that Summer is in line for another title opportunity?

STARS: All I’m saying is performances like this aren’t hurting her chances.

The ref raises Summer’s arm….

But then…


BLACKOUT

The fans are confused, and are wondering, a few murmurs can be heard.

Then…




Taylor Swift’s ‘SHAKE IT OFF’ blares through the darkness in the gym.

TODD: Jimmy, is… is this….

STARS: The one person on the roster with a Taylor Swift song?

The lights turn back on and a robed figure is standing in front of an exhausted Summer Page. While surrounding the ring, a couple dozen other robed figures.

Summer stumbles back in shock as…



MARISOL VILARO REMOVES HER HOOD


TODD: OH MY GOD, JIMMY!

STARS: …oh my god.

TODD: SUMMER’S OLDEST RIVAL IN THE XWF, MARISOL VILARO IS HERE!!!!!

Summer stumbles backward, heading for the rope, but looks out to see all of the VILAROFIT cultists surrounding the ring, by the time she looks back…


IT’S TOO LATE!


Mari grabs her wrist, twists her in, puts a boot on her jaw and…



TODD: VILAROFIT FACIAL!!!!!!!


Summer falls lifelessly to the mat…


The satisfied customers, or cultists, of VilaroFit slide under the ropes by the many… stomping Summer Page while Mari, callously turns away, and smiles for the camera.

“Don’t you forget it, world… Anarchy is MY show.”

The scene fades to black as officials rush down to the ring trying to help Summer while Mari just winks, and flexes her finely toned arms.

We cut to commercial.

[Image: wireline.png]

BACKSTAGE


When we return, The B.O.B. locker room is, well, still around somehow. God knows if they are waiting to call their chickens to roost. Inside, we see TNGB. Thunder Knuckles is sipping on a Bud Light, watching playback of Anarchy. Bobby Bourbon is seen playing with his son, with whom he shares legal guardianship with Mark Flynn, the North Korean War Baby, aka Chevy.

”Dude, you can't bring that baby to the ring, we already talked about it.”

Bobby rolls his eyes but keeps his attention on Chevy.

”I know, but I do have that armored titanium chest protector baby carrier that would let me do a body splash with my son, just imagine bro, the combined might of me and an infant.”

Bobby points to some contraption on the ground that looks like what he was describing. It's gunmetal black and has a lot of straps.

”Bobby, we need to do better than combine our strength with a baby. Besides you can be a mac for your kid later.”

”Not mac, Brother Knuckles, a mech, as in a big walking robotic suit of armor like as seen across pop culture from films like Pacific Rim or Avatar, shows such as Mighty Morphin Power Rangers, games like Starcraft or Mech Warrior, or cult classic Robot Jox.”

”They sound crazy.”

”We've piloted one.”

Bobby holds up a set of keys, and presses an alarm check button. Outside the arena, parked beside TK's brand new Camaro, is the hundred foot tall Bastardtron, complete with laser destructor cannon and battle fist attachments. Back indoors, Mark Flynn has entered the B.O.B. locker room. TK looks up at him incredulously.

”The fuck do you want?”

Mark stares daggers back at TK.

”He’s here for Chevy. Mark’s his other dad.”

”Chevy? Like Chevy Chase?”

”Or Chevy Silverado, that's a cool name.”

Mark shakes his head in disbelief.

”WE will talk about that LATER.”

“Your match is up next, and I told you I don't want OUR son ringside.”

”Thank fuck. We agree on something.”

”Fine, but I don't want our son anywhere around Michael Graves! That dude is seriously creepy, and if I find out he's laid one finger on our little boy I will grind him up into a fine paste and he'll be found through several septic tanks.”

Mark’s eyes go wide as he draws a long slow breath, as though some brilliant plan he'd had was on the cusp of backfiring catastrophically.

”I want you to use the baby carrier I designed.”

Mark turns and attempts to lift the reinforced titanium baby carrier Bobby designed.

”Christ on a cracker, how much does this even weigh?”

”It’s 250 pounds of reinforced titanium.”

”You expect me to wear this?”

”Well strong daddy can.”

The North Korean War Baby beckons towards both Bobby and Mark.

”What is it pal?”

The Wee Baby NK starts moving his jaws, making sounds.

”He’s trying to say something! What is it buddy? Can you say dada?”

”Can you say proletariat?”

The baby leans forward, looks up at his dads, and live on Anarchy, utters his first word.

“Fuck.”

Bobby looks at Mark with frustration. Mark gestures back to Bobby with matching energy. TK laughs. Mark rolls his eyes, having come to the same conclusion as Bobby, who has begun scratching his head sheepishly.

“FUCK!”

The North Korean War Baby laughs and claps, finally using people words for the first time.

”How hard have we failed as parents?”

”This will be fine.”

[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: Folks, we have our title match of the night and this one is a doozy!

STARS: Absolutely, Todd. The Anarchy tag division is where the XWF’s best tag-teams do battle! In fact, some day, you mark my words, they’re going to rename the Anarchy Tags… the Tag Titles! And the current Tag Titles will become the Warfare Tag Titles!

TODD: …I say this as an Anarchy employee. I sincerely doubt that will happen.



We see the X-Tron come to life with the words THUGS in red font, and smoke comes out of the stage and the camera sees Tommy coming out first trash talking to the camera, then JB follows behind as he raises his fist in the air as they walk down to the ring. At the ramp area, Tommy and JB smack talk some people, and they both climb to the ring and enter it and bask in the mixed reactions as their theme cuts off.[/font]

TODD: The THUGS looked absolutely DOMINANT at Rebellion! Through a few dirty tricks and third man tactics, they absolutely humiliated American Storm, securing their status as #1 contenders to the Anarchy Tag Titles!

STARS: And I had my guys watch through old tapes… (which you, the viewer, can watch on the XWF network)... Last time, the THUGS and TNGB met on Anarchy? The THUGS came out on top!

TODD: Wild but true, Jimmy! Can the THUGS pull off the upset of the century twice?

The entirely epic XTron video of TNGB takes over the arena as the lights dim. A spotlight highlights the ramp, and Thunder Knuckles walks out onto the entrance ramp, hyped and ready to fight, pointing out into the crowd. Behind him, Bobby Bourbon deliberately walks out and stops, also pointing out into the crowd. Both men glance at each other and return their attention to the ring, delivering a no-look fistbump, then in unison point into the ring. The crowd sings along with the song.

*ASSHOLE, DIRTBAG, NO GOOD BASTARDS!*stomp stomp*

TODD: I bet Them No Good Bastards wish Rebellion had gone as well for them as it went for The Thugs! They’re first Anarchy tags defense was a loss against Scoops McGeeGee… if they hadn’t gotten themselves intentionally disqualified, they might have lost those tag belts!

STARS: Here’s the thing about teams like Them No Good Bastards, Todd… They’re most dangerous coming off a loss. They’ve tuned their game! They’ve spot-checked their strategies!

TODD: I don’t disagree, Jimmy! But, The THUGS looked like a well-oiled machine at Rebellion! Can the Bastards turn around a victory after their recent defeat?!?

TK slides into the ring and gets up onto a knee, beckoning the crowd as Bobby climbs the steps and enters the ring behind him. TK stands and appeals to the crowd as Bobby raises his arms at 45-degree angles.

Referee N. Sertname looks to both corners to see the legal man, seeing TK and JB staring down from across one another, John psyching himself up for the war he views in front of him, stretching his arms out as he leans towards Thunder Knuckles like a mountain lion preparing to hunt. TK meets him with a steely gaze, focusing more fury and determination than he’s ever mustered up in his entire career.

TODD: We’re starting with John Black and Thunder Knuckles! Two men who have had among the longest XWF tenures among the current active roster!

STARS: These two fellas BREATHE, BLEED, AND EXCRETE XWF in everything they do! Hell, you can say the same thing about Bobby and Tommy too! But only one man is leaving representing Anarchy as the official tag team champions of Thursday nights!

The official signals for the start!

DING DING!



Anarchy Tag Title Match

Them No Good Bastards
BOBBY BOURBON & THUNDER KNUCKLES ©
- vs -
THUGS

Traditional Tag


As soon as the match begins, TK’s determined demeanor immediately becomes a shit-eating grin as he tags out, allowing John to charge forward only to slow down as he sees his prey retreat behind his more immediately athletic partner. Bobby Bourbon slips into the ring, raising a hand up to his ear to savor the crowd’s disapproval! As he drinks in the disdain, he chases it with a fist to the jaw from John Black!

John smacks his own chest, looking to goad a counter-attack from Bobby! Bob inhales after pressing his thumb to his lip to check for crimson before delivering a thunderous clap to the chest of JB! John stumbles back slightly, cursing from the pain before lifting up two middle fingers!

TODD: A definitive message to the so-called champs!

Bourbon reaches past John’s birds and rakes his eyes!

STARS: Maybe he would’ve preferred that one left on read!

As John tries to regain the use of his eyes, Bourbon capitalizes, whipping John into the ropes and clotheslining him down to the mat! He lifts John up, locking one arm in as he prepares for a double underhook suplex, but JB has a moment of hope, blindly connecting an elbow to the jaw of Bourbon. But Bobby powers through, hooking his hands under JB’s pits and heaving him across the ring with a Big Boy Toss!

TODD: Holy COW! John Black is 290 pounds! And Bobby just hucked him like a bag of garbage!

STARS: Of course, he did! Bobby’s the bigger man!

Todd: …Is he? JB and Bourbon are both massive competitors!

STARS: Anyone who knows Bobby knows he’s an athletic 291 pounds! 291 > 290. It’s simple math, Todd.

As Tommy shakes off cobwebs, clearly not used to being hucked around the ring… Bourbon grabs Black by the scruff of the neck and drags him back to the Bastards’ corner, tagging in TK.

TK and Bobby whip JB across the ring! They tandem flapjack him up into the air! JB gets about eight feet of airtime before crashing to the mat with a loud thud!

Wish smacks the turnbuckle, demanding JB scrap back into it!

TK grabs JB by the boot and starts to drag him back toward the Bastards corner…

But JB surprises TK with a boot to the skull! TK rolls backwards toward his corner! JB starts to crawl for his corner… but TK chases him down and delivers hammering forearms to the back of his head!

TODD: TK has a genuine claim to being one of the greatest tag competitors in XWF History! He’s got a high ring IQ in tag matches, he knows exactly what to do to set up his team for success and punish his opponent!

Black starts to work his way up to his feet, powering through TK’s strikes… TK glances back at the THUGs corner… seeing Tommy extend his arm…

TK suddenly charges at the THUGS corner, aiming a strike to knock Tommy off the apron!

TODD: What?!? TK’s attacking the non-legal man!

STARS: Brilliant move by TK! JB can’t tag out if there’s no one to tag![/blue]

TK swings a backfist! But Tommy ducks under… And catches TK with a headbutt!

TODD: Backfire!

TK woozily spins back around… Into JB, who delivers a back body drop! And falls forward, tagging in Tommy Wish!

TODD: Oh my! Tommy Wish!

STARS: Things just shifted in this one in a big way!

TK cradles his aching back as he scrambles up to his feet… Straight into a dropkick from Tommy Wish! A second, a third! TK manages to break Tommy’s onslaught of strikes by shoving Tommy back against the ropes… but Tommy rebounds off, and delivers a slingblade, dragging TK onto his back!

Bobby decides to step through the ropes and charge Tommy… But Tommy’s ready, twisting Bobby into a spinning powerslam!

TODD: Holy COW! Bobby Bourbon is 291 pounds! How did Tommy do that?!?

STARS: Well, Todd, Tommy is 320 pounds an-

TODD: Never mind, just… that was rhetorical.

Wish grabs Bobby by the neck before hooking Bourbon into a front facelock, looking for a HideYaFace! But TK comes from behind and chop blocks Tommy! Wish drops to the mat, cradling his leg! Bourbon and TK, sensing an opening, each grab one of Tommy’s legs… And MAKE-A-WISH!

TODD: Bobby and TK playing wishbone with Tommy Wish’s limbs!

Wish grabs at his legs, face awash with pain! The official admonishes the Bastards for their illegal double-team… They simply head to their corner and TK tags back out for Bobby!

…Unfortunately for them, both Bastards heading to their corner gave Tommy a window to crawl and tag back in JB! Bobby looks to lock up with JB, but JB dives through the air, taking Bourbon down with a flying lariat! Bourbon, with resiliency, forces himself back upright… but JB’s ready, securing a front facelock for a suplex!

…But TK, not liking how things are going, decides to step through the ropes!

TODD: The official’s got instill some order into this match! The Bastards are just coming and going in and out as they please!

JB sees TK coming and releases the front-facelock on Bobby… TK aims a haymaker punch for JB’s face, but JB ducks under and grabs TK by the neck as he passes, NECKBREAKER!

JB tries to take advantage of this window both Bastards are grounded and scoops TK off the mat and onto his shoulders, looking for a Blacklisted (Death Valley Driver)... But TK drops off the back and shoves him into Bourbon, who heaves Black off his feet by the throat! EMC SQUARD (Earth’s Mightiest Chokeslam)

TODD: I never thought I’d say this but… the THUGs are getting screwed by the damn numbers game!

STARS: It’s weird, isn’t it? It’s like watching the Thunder lose a game due to lopsided foul calls…

From the THUGs’ corner, Reggie sneaks himself up to the apron, signalling to Tommy who slides down!

TODD: Speaking of the numbers’ game, we saw this at Rebellion! The THUGs swapping members in and out in the chaos!

Bobby irish whips JB into his corner… And Reggie tags himself in!

TODD: Hello, Reggie Estrada! Bobby visibly squints like… ‘huh, Tommy Wish sure looks different than a few seconds ago’

Reggie charges in with a diving crossbody… But Bobby catches him in mid-air, just as TK pulls himself back off the mat! Bobby lifts Reggie into powerbomb position just as TK grabs his leg…

Rainbow Laser Death Sequence!

STARS: And goodbye, Reggie Estrada!

Estrada unconsciously rolls under the bottom rope… The official, suddenly realizing Reggie wasn’t even a competitor in this match, orders JB, the previous legal man, to get back in there!

Wish hops back on the apron and nods at JB… They both come through the ropes!

TODD: Looks like the THUGS are done letting the Bastards double-team them! This two-on-two is going tagless for the moment!

The official barks at the THUGs to only send in one man… And then spins, trying to make the Bastards do the same… But the decision’s already been made by both teams! Bobby and Black pair off throwing wild punches, as TK and TW both grapple and tussle each other to the mat!

TODD: This one has gone from a tag match to a slugfest!

Bobby and Black each front facelock, like a pair of stubborn bulls, each determined to suplex the other up and over, their contest of strength leading them straight into the official! The ref falls down after being clobbered by the two! Meanwhile, Wish seems to have secured TK in a side headlock… Wish goes to bulldog TK… When TK low blows Tommy! Tommy drops to his knees, as TK straightens himself out…

Meanwhile, Black, the smaller competitor (by one pound…) has gotten Bourbon into the air! But TK axe handles Black from behind! Bourbon drops back down to his feet… meanwhile, Tommy scoops himself back to his feet as TK and Bobby lift Black into position…

TODD: Uh oh! Are we gonna see another RLDS?

Bobby gets Black into powerbomb position… But Tommy climbs to the top rope… And dives onto the human mass in the center of the ring! All four men are down!

STARS: Wow! What a save by Tommy!

All four men are down as the crowd starts a ten-count! The fans demand someone get up so this carnage can continue!

TK rises from the fallen bodies from the huge leap of Tommy Wish moments prior.

TODD: How did he manage that? Nobody could just shrug off an attack like that!

Looking out to the crowds with a devilish look as he reaches into his pants and pulls out a condom, holding it up proudly!

STARS: HE WAS WEARING PROTECTION!

TODD: THAT’S NOT HOW THAT WORKS!

STARS: Tell that to Thunder Knuckles!

TK glances towards the ref, still out from the earlier incident as he reaches underneath the ring apron! He pulls out a pillowcase, looking at it suspiciously before dropping it abruptly, a snake wiggling its way out from inside!

TK: Oh fuck that!

It slithers away to another spot under the ring as TK finds the pillowcase he was actually searching for, motioning the cameraman over to look inside as he lifts up a handful of…

TODD: Oh, god, haven’t these two caused enough chaos without-

THUMB TACKS!!

The crowd roars in approval as TK gives an exaggerated thumbs up, walking over to the barrier between himself and the crowd and dumping the entire bag into a fan’s beer! The arena sends its hate down as TK gives his iconic jerk-off motion!

TODD: Leave it to the bastards to kill the vibe even when they’re breaking the rules.

Meanwhile, outside of the ring, JB and Bobby have finally climbed to their feet! John drags Bourbon by his hair into the ringpost, sending the Bastard into a haze before rolling him into the ring! With Bourbon on the back foot once more, John lifts himself to the top rope, each step seemingly as shaky as his opponent’s! The official cradles his head, finally beginning to show signs of life himself! John leaps off the top!

FLYING LARIAT!

Bourbon is sent crumbling to the canvas! John Black slams his fists against the mat as he forces himself upwards and locks a liontamer hold on Bobby!

TODD: JB’s locked in the Real Raw! This could be it for the Bastards!

Bourbon winces in pain as he claws at the canvas, digging in deep to try and reach the ropes as the ref groggily checks to see if he can continue! But JB musters up the will to drag Bobby Bourbon towards the opposite side of the ring! Bobby doesn’t look like he can take much longer!

Suddenly, TK reappears, his pillowcase filled with X-Bux as he swings it at JB’s jaw! John stumbles out of his submission hold, nearly tumbling on the official who is utterly baffled and didn’t see a thing! Bobby lifts up, transitioning from his prone position to standing as he lifts JB up into the sky and brings him plummeting all the way back to Earth!

BOBBY BOMBBBBBBB!

The ref crawls over weakly, slapping the mat as Bobby locks in the pin!


1!






2!







3!



WINNERS: THEM NO GOOD BASTARDS


STARS: The Bastards retain despite a hard fought effort by The THUGS! You might have the numbers on them, but they’ll put their money on you- literally!

TODD: I really thought The THUGS had it, too! I suppose I’ll just have to go back to betting for when we’re gonna get that raise they told us about.

STARS: Not on air! We’ll be right back, after these important words from our sponsor… ourselves!

[Image: wireline.png]

[Image: LkEYxqp.png]

XWF PRESENTS: LEAP OF FAITH
LIVE - KROGER FIELD - LEXINGTON, KY

EARLY TICKETS are on PRESALE only on: XWF99.com!

Get in on the Action, It’s not Too Late
Who will walk out with the Vaunted 24/7 Briefcase?
Who will Charlie Nickles defend against as Universal Champion?
- JULY 20TH 2025 -

[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: I, for one, am looking forward to Leap of Faith.

STARS: Wow. Really going out on a limb there, huh?

TODD: …

STARS: I’m pretty sure everyone is looking forward to Leap of Faith!

TODD: I’m excited to see how Anarchy is represented this year.

STARS: The A-Show definitely needs to show up and show out. That’s for sure.

TODD: Well, that would be your job, wouldn’t it?

STARS: I guess.

TODD: What do you mean, you guess?



One for the money rings throughout the arena as JY steps out from behind the curtain with a kings crown on. He stands center stage and takes in all of the boo’s before adjusting his crown with a smirk and heading down to the ring.

RING ANNOUNCER: INTROOODUUUUCINGGGG The One, The Only. He hails from TOOOROOONTOOO ONTARIOOOO CANADAAAAA, KING JUUUUUSTIIINNN YOOOOOORK!

York enters the ring and stands on the middle ropes and holds his crown high in the air while giving a death stare into the crowd.

York calls for a microphone before the match between him and Shark commences. The crowd is letting him know exactly how they feel about him.

JY: Shut the fuck up.

STARS: Whoa.

TODD: Whoa is right.

STARS: I think I like this guy.

JY: Oh Thad… I bet you thought you were so clever having your little puppy dog show up with your golden shovel. I’m also kind of shocked that you took your nose out of Lucy’s asshole long enough to put that whole scenario together. It’s sad to watch the owner of this company cost one of his biggest stars the second title. I never thought I’d say this but maybe Theo would do a better job than you.

York slaps his title that is hanging off his shoulder freshly shined and looking brighter than the garbage shovel that Cy brought to Rebellion.

JY: You must’ve bought gift cards to Burger King to get that fucking dickwipe Keeton to attack me from behind because that’s about all he’s worth. I’ll pitch in a bottle of super glue so you can have his lips firmly attached to your ass. I’m not going to bother addressing the curly haired freak that has to spread himself everywhere like a cheap whore in a sorry attempt to find success. Quick hint… it’s not gone well for him.

York laughs at the thought of that dipshit Keeton.

JY: Let's get down to business. I cost you your match against Enigma and you cost me my second title against Graves. So the way I see it we’re 1-1, an eye for an eye. So let’s cut this bullshit game and get to it. Bring your scrawny little ass down here.

York stares at the top of the ramp and nothing.

JY: That's what I thought, you nutless prick. What about Cy? Bring that golden shovel down here and I’ll shove it up your ass. No, nothing? That’s what I thought. Fuck you both and you haven’t seen the last of me. Now watch as I continue to make this brand far more prestigious than you ever could. Oh and that curly haired freak has what’s coming to him when and if he can scale up from the bottom of the card.

York hands his title to the time keeper and prepares for his match with James Shark.

TODD: Wow. Way to call out Thaddeus!

STARS: That motherfucker still owes me three microwaves.

TODD: …

STARS: Don’t look at me like that.

TODD: What do you need three microwaves for?

STARS: You wouldn’t understand.

TODD: No. But what I do understand is that if Justin York keeps poking the bear, eventually, Thaddeus will respond!

STARS: Oh really. On my brand? Not without my microwaves he won’t.

TODD: He’s your boss!

STARS: Sorry. I don’t hear three microwaves whirring in the background right now.

Demons by Tech N9ne begins to blast on the arena's speakers, accompanies by a mixed reaction from the crowd.



I'm an angel-slash-demon
What makes me a demon is lust, I'm girl crazy
and that's why I couldn't keep my wife
And that's the lust demons living within me
And uh, but my heart, love big
So I know a lot of demons come to my shows, as well as angels
A lot of demons, a lot of demons, a lot of demons.

The sound of a huge explosion shakes the arena as flames shoot up from the stage for a few seconds. His silhouette can be seen behind the flames as he comes out of the curtains.

When I was one, and a two, and a three, and a four
I knew I was a special one who had a little more
And they wondered why I was plotting, rotten to the core
It was nothing but an itty-bitty demon
There's a demon inside of me! Can I kill it? Hell nah!
Can I kill it? Hell naw! Can I kill it? Hell nah!
There's a demon inside a me! Can I kill it? Hell nah!
Can I kill it? Hell naw! Can I kill it? Hell nah!

As the flames stop he walks forward and takes off his black shirt before throwing it into the crowd as he walks down the ramp. Shark is talking shit as he’s making his way towards the ring, his cuban chains swaying around his neck, as he walks past one of the cameras the broadcast can pick up some unpleasant words about his opponent.

TODD: James Shark has been, well, a little bit unhinged as of late. If you want to speak about drug use and potential abuse.

STARS: What? Why? Is Damian coming back out?

TODD: No?

STARS: Then why bring up drugs? That makes like, no sense.

TODD: …

STARS: You’re not implying…

TODD: I’m not implying anything!

STARS: You’re damn right you’re not implying anything, because, JAMES SHARK IS A SAINT!

His music continues blasting, the fans screaming out “HELL NAH” every time the chorus hits. Shark slides into the ring and runs over to the farthest turnbuckle before jumping up and landing on the second ropes. The feed switches to one of the cameras located in the upper level of the arena, it begins to zoom all the way down to Shark as he stands still, zooming until there is a close-up of his face. A devilish smirk breaks his seriousness as he jumps off the turnbuckle and begins to shadow box.

TODD: Both these men talked about how they considered this match akin to a warmup, as though it didn’t even matter to them. But seeing them face to face in the ring, with the tension clearly rising… you know it’s got to be a lot more than that.

STARS: I mean, egos are a fragile thing. And the more you inflate yours the more it wants to burst. And what I see in that ring right now on a fine St. Louis night is two egos. One inflating at an incredible rate, and the other potentially fractured.

TODD: Wow. You can be insightful when you want to be.

STARS: I can’t lose either way. Anarchy is better off with both of these men!




"KING" JUSTIN YORK
- vs -
JAMES SHARK

Non-Title Singles


York and Shark square off in the middle of the ring and go nose to nose while talking some shit to each other as the referee calls for the bell.

DING DING!

Shark takes a step back and before he has the chance to react to anything York quickly thumbs him in the eye for which the referee admonishes him.

TODD: OH, it’s getting started right away! Cheap shot!

STARS: If you ain’t cheating, you ain’t trying. Which is odd, cause this is York basically admitting he’s trying.

TODD: Are you sure this isn’t him practicing, Jimbo?

STARS: I said I’d cut you.

York quickly shoves the referee away from him after exchanging some words and turns his attention back to Shark who snaps off a series of quick jabs followed by a heavy right hook that has York reeling. Shark Irish whips York into the corner at full speed and York crashes into the turnbuckles and slams the canvas.

STARS: And this is why I wanted a SHARK on my squad. I mean, look at the boxing background coming into play here.

TODD: Boxing rings and wrestling rings are both rings, Jimmy.

STARS: …

TODD: I just thought you might need help drawing the comparison.

STARS: I’m out of crackers. But if I wasn’t, I’d give you a James Shark uppercut. You aren’t worth the energy.

Shark jaunts over to York but he quickly rolls up Shark with an inside cradle and grabs the ropes. The referee counts two and then notices York has his hans on the rope and breaks the hold, once again laying into York for not playing by the rules. York backs the referee down into the corner and tries to intimidate him and SHARK SPINS HIM AROUND AND NAILS HIM WITH A HEAVY CLOTHESLINE. York crashes to the mat and bounces back up quickly and then Shark drops him again. Shark pulls York to his feet and hooks him for a DDT and shows off to the crowd before planting York firmly on the top of his head and making the cover.

TODD: Huge DDT!

One!


Two!

York powers out at two!

TODD: Ooh, near fall by the former Universal Champion there.

STARS: Credit where credit is due. Canadians are known to be hard-headed.

TODD: …

STARS: What?

TODD: A) That’s not credit. B) Traditionally, in professional wrestling, Samoans are known to have hard heads.

STARS: I wasn’t talking about wrestling, Rodd.

Shark knee drops York right in the melon before hauling him back to his feet and delivering a nasty spinning back fist that connects and then driving him down once again with a beautiful neckbreaker. Before Shark has the chance to capitalize York wisely rolls outside the ring to recollect himself as things haven’t been going his way. Shark rolls out behind him and chases him around the ring and York suddenly turns around and drops Shark with a nasty short clothesline. York climbs on top of the former universal champion and reigns down furious right hands right into his face. The referee has made it to a count of 5.

TODD: You’re not actually going to let these two champion-level talents get counted out here tonight on your first Anarchy, right Jimbo?

STARS: I mean, I let the sweeties and the fellas in the back conduct their business accordingly. I’m not an active wrestler, nor am I a referee. All I can do is give them a stage to impress me.

TODD: What about the fans?

STARS: They can pay to watch. Sure.

TODD: Glad to know you care.

York gets off of Shark and pulls him to his feet and Irish whips him into the steel steps but Shark places his hands on them to stop himself from crashing thunderously into them. York is taunting the crowd and dusting his hands together as if he just eliminated Shark for good. York turns and sees that shake didn’t hit the steps and dashes full speed at him but Shark ducks and hoists York over with a back body drop RIGHT ON THE STEPS!

STARS: Ohh, that hurts in every Province, Justin Todderlake.

TODD: Really? I thought you’d be more worried about the stairs.

STARS: I can buy so many stairs with the money Justin York will make me.

TODD: …

STARS: Us. Our brand. The XWF.

TODD: And what are you buying with Shark’s draw money? Ring posts?

STARS: I mean, six-sided rings do require more posts…

TODD: Ain’t no way in hell they’re letting you get away with that.

STARS: Listen. Justin York may be hurt. And you’re being an asshole right now.

Shark rolls into the ring just as the referee makes it to the count of 7. Shark taunts York to make it to the ring before the ten count and he wills himself onto the apron at the count of nine. Shark hits the opposite side ropes and strikes with the PAID IN FULL (flying elbow) but York ducks and shark hits the ropes. York strikes with a heavy forearm strike and then pulls shark out onto the apron while he’s groggy. York hoists him up while they’re on the apron and drives him down with a nasty apron snap Suplex. The two crash to the floor from the momentum.

TODD: Odd that Shark was willing to take the countout victory there.

STARS: He was trying to punk him, man. He said this match ain’t shit, and he was gonna prove it.

TODD: Until York dropped him on his head.

STARS: I’d be proud of myself if I wasn’t watching two of my best shorten my profit margin. I mean their life spans.

TODD: …

York is first to his feet and tosses Shark over the announce table and crashing into the announcers chairs.

TODD: OH GOD- *Static*

Jimmy drives away from the table with his hoveround.

STARS: Oh no… they killed Timmy. How tragic.

TODD: It’s… Todd…

York walks around the ring taunting fans and eve ripping the sign of a little kid in the front row. York then decides that he’s had enough of this match and grabs his Revolution title from the time keepers area. Shark crawls out from behind the announce desk and makes it to his feet and just when York swings the title square at his head Shark ducks and shoves York from behind into the ring post. His face clangs not only off the post but off of his championship belt. York crumbles to the floor but Shark is quickly back on the offensive and rolls him into the ring to break the referee's count of 9.

STARS: Told ya I needed more ringposts, Toddy.

TODD: How did you… no…

STARS: I told you. Captain Future knows his shit, man.

TODD: Hold on… let me get… settled back in here…

STARS: Since Todd can’t do his job right now. By gawd, did you see York’s head bounce off of that solid American steel! I didn’t just hear it… I felt it!

TODD: …damn it. Not my monitor is all fuzzy.

Shark rolls in behind him and signals the end of the contest. Shark leaps through the guard of York and drives him with a nasty Superman punch causing the back of york's head to rattle off of the canvas SHARKBAIT!!! Shark smells blood in the water and hooks the leg of York and the referee counts.

ONE

TWO

THRE———

YORK SHOOTS HIS SHOULDER OFF THE MAT AT THE VERY LAST SECOND AND SHARK CAN'T BELIEVE IT.

TODD: Say what you will about either of these two competitors! They’re harder to keep down than anyone thinks!

STARS: Shark’s string of bad luck isn’t because he’s lost a step. The competition level is just that damned high! Justin York’s Canadian Dome is just that damned hard!

TODD: I was going to mention his pride, but oh yeah, you go and make it weird.

STARS: You brought up the Samoans and Dwayne “The Grok” Johnson ain’t even here tonight!

TODD: That’s not the point!

York kicks Shark off of him and sends him crashing into the referee who gets knocked out of the ring. Shark quickly goes back to work and grabs York in a nasty looking guillotine choke but York does what he does and low blows Shark without the referee being able to see it. Shark crumbles to his knees and York with one last burst of energy hooks him and powers him up for the KILLZONE (Canadian Brainbuster)

STARS: YORK GOES FROM DAMIAN SANTOS FRIED EGG BRAIN TO KILLZONE! HE’S GONNA DO IT!

Just as York is about to drop Shark on his head he slips out the back door and hits the ropes at full speed and lands the PAID IN BLOOD FLYING ELBOW!!

TODD: PAID IN BLOOD! SHARK COUNTERED!

STARS: SHARK IS LIKE A HAMMERHEAD, EXCEPT HE KEEPS HAMMERING KING YORKS HEAD INSTEAD!

York hits the canvas like a ton of bricks and Shark also hits the deck out of exhaustion. Both men are down as the referee makes it back into the ring and sees Shark crawl forward and drape his arm over York-


ONE!



TWO!!



THREE!!!

DING DING DING!

WINNER: JAMES SHARK


TODD: He got him!

STARS: Damn. I mean, good. Great even. I really booked a no-winner for myself. But hey, at least James Shark looks happy for the first time in weeks. I know York is going to be upset and, thank god for that Canadian Head of his or he’d probably have CTE.

TODD: York is going to take this loss tough being the competitor that he is. But he’s still our Revolution Champion. He’ll break out of the funk. Meanwhile, Shark looks more than happy. Wait… speaking of, what in the hell is James Shark doing?

Shark immediately gets up to his feet groggily after the pinfall and slides out of the ring. He starts motioning for the production crew to give him the XWF Revolution Championship but they all look at one another confused. Shark can be heard cussing at them as he ends up snatching the Championship and throwing it over his shoulder.

As he walks away with the Championship he looks over at York and shrugs his shoulders at him as if this was his fault.

“A loss is a loss, homie. Ain’t they tell you I’m a belt collector??”

He winks at him before jumping over the barricade and celebrating with the title as the fans are all barely held back from joining him by Security.

STARS: He’s celebrating with his Revolution Championship, Todd. What’s the problem?

TODD: He’s not celebrating with it. He’s stealing it!

STARS: Now that’s a line that I won’t cross. You should be ashamed of yourself.

TODD: No, he’s literally taking the belt with him, right now, right before our very eyes.

STARS: So?

TODD: It was a non-title match!

STARS: …fuck.

A rumble emerges from the crowd as James Shark is celebrating his win. Shark thinks it’s for him but when a figure pops up behind him the rumble turns into a roar.

It's KING KIERAN!

TODD: What the hell?!

BAM!

An elbow to the back of the head strikes Shark down and he rolls to the floor around ringside. The Revolution title drops next to him.

King pursues and grabs Shark by the head, hurtling him into the barricade. And then again. And a third for good measure.

TODD: THAT’S KING KIERAN!

The Revolution title catches his eye. Grabbing it from the ground, he waits for Shark - whose head has been well and truly rattled - to rise.

STARS: He wants to steal my belt too!

TODD: It’s not your belt!

King smashes the title off the Shark’s head and discards it over his body!

Movement in the ring catches King's eye and he darts in towards where Justin York is rising. Ugly on the Outside! King drives York's face unto his knee in scarily quick fashion!

TODD: I don’t understand! KING KIERAN is HERE on ANARCHY and he’s TAKING OUT EVERYBODY!

York drops and flops to the outside where Shark also lies, and still King isn't done. He follows after, and sets to work repositioning the steel steps. York gets yanked to his feet before…

F UR HEAD on the steel steps to Justin York!

The sound of York's skull ricocheting off the steel reverberates around the building. Without even breathing, Kieran turns his eye to James Shark.

STARS: DAMN IT! …now the steps are really busted.

He pulls him up.

And drives him down with the same brainbuster to the steel steps that he just laid York out with!

TODD: You’re not at all worried about YOUR talent?!

STARS: I mean, there’s a cost to benefit ratio to consider…

Shark bounces from the steps and lands not far from York.

His jaw clenched, King Kieran stands on the ring steps and observes his handiwork. He crouches down and speaks directly to his fallen victims.

KING: One King. Zero Revolutions.

Uncharacteristically short on words, The ACTUAL King of the XWF leaves the way he came through the crowd.

TODD: Did he just… is KIERAN KING declaring himself the one true King of the XWF?

STARS: I mean, at this rate, we may not have any Kings left by Leap of Faith.

TODD: Holy shit.

[Image: wireline.png]


ANOTHER BRIEF INTERMISSION

A RICKETY CAGE IS FABRICATED AROUND THE RING

ITS TOP RESTS AGAINST THE MOLDY DROP CEILING TILES ABOVE



[Image: wireline.png]


TODD: This isn’t a damn easy street walk out steel cage match… it’s a Goddamn Temu Hell in a Cell!

STARS: I don’t know why you’re being so bitchy. I said it would fit.

TODD: Barely!

STARS: I mean, they could escape from the top if they still wanted to. Just move one or two of the ceiling tiles out of the way…

TODD: It doesn’t work that way!

STARS: Gasp! You’re right! It’s almost like, our two top champions are about to beat the shit out of each other for our enjoyment!

Suddenly, there’s the strum of a banjo heard from off-stage…



Through the apron, bursts “Micheal Graves” (conceivably), Anarchy champion, sporting the “Dark Warrior” mask, and the belt on his shoulder.

STARS: And there he is, MY TOP champion!

TODD: Well yes, but actually no?

STARS: WE ARE ANARCHY. WE ARE THE A SHOW.

TODD: We’re still a part of the XWF. Charlie Nickles is the Universal-

STARS: SILENCE, FOOL!

As the banjo strings are plucked, ‘Graves’ strolls down the ramp… As an entourage follows him!

Irwin, Mark Flynn’s #1 fan is plucking the banjo, playing the folk song…

Behind *him* are the Students of Gravy.

Miss Furry paws at a triangle, which isn’t plugged into anything…

While Peter Parkor brings up the rear, holding a microphone…

Peter raises the mask over his lips and lifts the mic.

♫ You may think that you’re neutral ♫
♫  There are no neutrals though ♫
♫ You’re either with the wrestlers ♫
♫ Or a pawn of the CEOs ♫

The fans join in, knowing the chorus by heart…

WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON? WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON?

‘Graves’ continues to walk down the ramp to the beat, staring at the challenger in the ring… as the entourage behind him plays…

♫ The Boss wants us divided ♫
♫  He don’t want this song sung ♫
♫ But us wrestlers, we fight until ♫
♫ That final bell is rung  ♫

STARS: WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON? WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON?

TODD: Fuck sake!

♫ You have the Uni, Charlie ♫
♫  But does it make you whole? ♫
♫ You’ve got just what you wanted ♫
♫ And it only cost your soul ♫

WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON? WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON?

…Finally, finishing his slow, deliberate march, ‘Graves’ enters the ring and lifts the belt over his head.

♫ Dance for Peter, Charlie ♫
♫  Fight the Revolution Wave ♫
♫ Drag yourself far lower ♫
♫ Than even Robyn’s Grave ♫

WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON? WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON?

Irwin finishes with a little banjo solo…

Before humbly sliding his instrument behind his back…

The entourage heads back up the ramp, as ‘Graves’ hands the belt off to the official, never taking his eyes off the entrance way.

TODD: My god, though, Graves looks laser focused.

STARS: Oh, he is. I can sense his anger. I can feel his hate flowing through him.

TODD: …

STARS: I know he wants to debut a new item on XWFshop. They both do. I can feeeeeel it.



Charlie Nickles emerges from the curtain with the new, old, big, gold, XWF Universal Championship title belt strapped around his waist. But that’s not all. He’s got his hands taped for a bare knuckle fight, a felt bag in one hand, and a barbed-wire baseball bat draped over his shoulder! He points the bat in Micheal’s direction, and says something that, quite frankly, no one in the building can make out. Whatever it is, it’s personal. The cameras pan over to Gravy who paces inside of the steel trap, leaving ample distance between himself and the door.

TODD: The energy for this main event is absolutely palpable, there, Jimbo.

STARS: Charlie is already using more brains than I thought the man had. He’s turning their little temporary house into his home.

TODD: Looks like he’s trying to turn it into Micheal Graves’s… uhm…

STARS: Grave?

Nickles pushes himself down the ramp one heavy step at a time, until he reaches the ringside area. He looks up into the ring at Graves through the steel mesh. Graves is motioning him to come in and join him. Ironically, the referee opens the door for Nickles but refuses to go inside with the two men to formally start the match.

TODD: Why do I got the feeling this is going to be a bloodbath?

STARS: I mean, hopefully it is. I can’t force these two to fight for life and limb over something as simple as bragging rights and a merch opportunity, now can I?

Charlie brings his weapons of choice into the ring with him, but he does leave the Uni title belt behind for safe keeping. Matter of fact, he is quite threatening to the timekeeper that if anything were to happen to his championship, he’d drag them in the cage along with them. With all that being crystal clear, The Nickleman steps inside, where he is immediately rushed by Mar..cheal Graves! Conceivably!





CHARLIE NICKLES
- vs -
MICHEAL GRAVES (conceivably)

Easy Way Out cage match
The only way to win the match is to walk out of the cage door!
Winner gets a new item on XWF shop.com!
(Non-Title)


DING DING!!

The match begins with the men throwing haymakers. Obviously Graves needs Charlie to drop the weapons, to which he does with a flurry of fists that cause Nickleman to respond in kind. The two brawl to the corners, literally trading positions and spinning around the ropes until Nickleman lands a knee lift. Charlie goes for his barbed wire bat the first instant that he can but Graves steps on the handle of the bat and follows up with a straight right fist to Nickles’ steel jaw.

STARS: Oh, and in case anyone is wondering. The referee has been instructed not to take the padlock off of the door for the first five minutes.

TODD: What? Why?

STARS: Not that we’re having any problems tonight. But you know, just for future reference. You step in my cage, you got to fight.

TODD: …you’re making this more uncomfortable than it needs to be.

STARS: Nah. Charlie and Gravy are making this way easier than I anticipated. I could have locked them in a room together and gotten the same result.

Graves, with a grip on the back of Nickles head, attempts to launch him into the rickety mesh that’s surrounding the ring. But Nickles has enough strength to counter and throw a back elbow that staggers the Anarchy Champion sending him back away. Nickles charges but Graves tosses him with a back body drop that lands him in the center of the ring. Graves with an elbow drop to follow up. Nickles crawls over to the corner. Micheal looks as though he’d like to do some mudhole stomping when Charlie uses his grip on the rope to throw an upkick to the Anarchy Champion’s gut.

3:00 UNTIL DOOR UNLOCKED

2:59

2:58


TODD: I don’t really see the timer being an issue here. They may fight all night at this rate.

STARS: Gravy told Charlie that he’s the king of walking out. It makes me wonder if the true winner of this match isn’t the one who wants to leave.

TODD: …you son of a bitch.

STARS: What?

Charlie pulls himself back up to his feet, but Graves charges! But Charlie uses Graves’ own momentum against him, with a spinning powerslam right into the turnbuckles behind him! Graves lands head-first on the mat below, clutching his lower back!

STARS: Sick move there, Charlie. Perhaps I will let you clean this place up for me.

TODD: Are you talking to yourself? Or to Charlie?

STARS: Yes.

TODD: You’re deranged!

STARS: Hey, eyes and mouth on the match at hand, Todd. Our champion is in a lot of trouble right now.

This gives Charles the time he needs to grab up his barbed wire bat. He stalks Gravy with the bat held high over his head, ready to swing down. Micheal grabs Chuck by the waistband and pulls him forward into the corner. Charlie hits the top turnbuckle with some force and the barbed wire simply sticks to the mesh of the cage, leaving the bat itself hanging.

TODD: It may not be a part of your plan, but it honestly may be in Micheal Graves’s best interest to leave this cage as quickly as possible.

STARS: Oh ye of little faith. As if Graves’ ego isn’t as big and as bold as Charles’ in charge’s new belt.

Graves begins clubbing Charlie in the forehead with rapid fire forearm shots! Nickles staggers back. Graves comes flying out of the corner and he takes Nickles down to the canvas with a thunderous lariat!

TODD: Micheal Graves really starting to fight back, like he’s fighting for his life in there!

Graves takes a brief moment to look over at the door-

1:01

1:00

59


When Chuck catches him with an uppercut to the groin!

The 550+ in attendance here tonight all make a collective groan that’s hard to describe as Graves drops down to his knees in front of Charlie. Nickles, being the kind giving man that he is, drills Graves with a headbutt on the bridge of the nose before he begins to rip at the mask of Micheal Graves!

TODD: Oh no, Charlie doesn’t just want to punish Graves… he wants to steal his identity!

STARS: Charlie doesn’t buy this whole Alleged business.That’s why Bashy took things a step farther. Now we’re pretty damn sure it’s conceivable that what you see IS Micheal Graves.

TODD: What I see is blood from a potentially broken nose leaking out from the rip in the mask!

Graves knows he has to fight back, and fight back he does. From a knee he throws right hands up into Charlie’s features, eventually breaking the grip. Graves pops back up to his feet and Charlie immediately grabs him and irish whips him into the ropes. Graves comes charging back with a cross body attempt that Nickles ducks and Graves smacks the canvas and rolls all the way to the cage wall.

STARS: Precarious position here. Don’t want to be caught between the ropes and the mesh.

3

2

1

DOOR UNLOCKED


TODD: Well this changes everything!

STARS: We’ll see.

Charles doesn’t even blink at the doorway. With Graves working himself up between the ropes and the mesh, Charles grabs him by the mask with both hands and begins to slam the back of his head into the cage AGAIN and AGAIN and AGAIN and AGAIN! He does this until HE tires himself out, leaving Graves to slump over the ropes. Chuck then drags his limp body over the rope to the point where he’s draped over in his arms. Rope suspended DDT drops the Anarchy Champion right on the crown of his head!

TODD: Nickles isn’t stopping his onslaught.

STARS: He’s here to prove a point, Todd.

TODD: And what point might that be?

STARS: You can’t claim to be the best unless you are. Tonight we take a glimpse into what lengths these two top Champions would go to one up each other… and themselves.

Nickles limps over to the felt bag that fell much earlier on in the contest and laid undisturbed until now. He pulls it up and begins to undo the string that’s keeping the pouch tied shut at the top.

STARS: Any guesses as to what’s inside the bag?

TODD: It’s damned thumbtacks. Everyone in this building and watching at home tonight knows it!

Gravy, meanwhile, is showing signs of life, using the ropes and the cage wall to pull himself back up to wobbly feet. Charlie approaches with an inflated ego, taunting the man who he thinks is a standard mark and a fraud. Graves can barely stand right on spaghetti legs. But when Charlie shows him the bag, Graves gives the pouch a backhanded swipe. Knocking it on the mat, and yes, spilling out some of the thumbtacks in the process.

Charles scoops Graves up for another powerslam. He turns and aims for the bag. Just when he’s about to slam Graves down onto the exposed tacks, Micheal slips out from Charlie’s grip!

TODD: That was a close call!

Charlie turns to see Graves standing behind him. Graves goes for another lariat but Charlie ducks this one. Graves spins around and Charlie kicks the bag of thumbtacks straight at Micheal Graves, and Thumbtacks go flying everywhere throughout the ring! And even out into the crowd!

STARS: Well, shit. That wasn’t supposed to happen.

TODD: No shit!

Graves might even have some of those thumbtacks stuck on him… yes he does! He’s picking a tack or two that had attached themselves to his mask mid-flight. And Charlie uses this opportunity to scoop Graves right up and SIDEWALK SLAM HIM DOWN ONTO A PILE OF TACKS!

HOLY SHIT!! HOLY SHIT!! HOLY SHIT!! HOLY SHIT!!

Nickles has a smirk on his face as he lifts his hand up to show that, yes, his hand and the entire side of his ass got covered in tacks as well… but he doesn’t seem to care!

Meanwhile, Graves is rolling (carefully) around on the mat, trying to take pressure off of the tacks inside of his skin while trying not to add any others along the way (allegedly)!

TODD: You’ve turned this quaint little Athletic Club into a death chamber!

STARS: Quit being so dramatic. Hey Zeus.

Charles looks over at the doorway, but he shakes his head. No, he has more planned for Micheal Graves.

Charlie stands up and starts to undo the buckle of his pants…

TODD: We’ve seen this before!

STARS: I haven’t. Hopefully this isn’t normal!

Nickles yanks the leather belt out from the loops and he holds it high in the air for the crowd to see. He limps over to where Graves is writhing on the mat in sharp pain… and Nickles decides to add to it, by WHIPPING HIM ALONG THE TACKS STUCK IN HIS BACK!!

TODD: I think… I think I’m going to be sick.

STARS: Do that shit on your side.

TODD: Charlie Nickles is laying his belt to Micheal Graves’s thumbtack riddled ass!

WHACK. WHACK. WHACK. WHACK. WHACK.

Pure malice. Pure hatred. By the time Charles is done, there’s welts along Gravy’s back with thumbtacks sticking out of it, and the Gravy crew are considering tearing through the cage themselves to save their leader. Charlie motions towards the crowd that he’s ready to end this, once and for all.

TODD: Not sure what Charlie is thinking here. But it cannot be good!

STARS: No use in playing with your food, Chuck. Put him down.

Charles gathers up another pile of tacks by dragging his boot along the mat. He grabs Graves by the mask and forces him back to his feet.

CHARLIE KICKS GRAVES IN THE GUT, DOUBLING HIM OVER!

HE DOUBLE-UNDERHOOKS THE ARMS-

DEVIL HOOK-

NO!

Graves breaks his grip, spins out! Charlie charges at him but Gravy ducks a clothesline. By the time Chuck turns around, MASSIVE SHOTGUN DROPKICK INTO THE CORNER!

TODD: MICHEAL GRAVES counters! But how much did it take out of him?!

STARS: He’s losing a good bit of life juice there.

TODD: Fuck you Jimmy. Life juice? The fuck is wrong with you?!

Graves mounts the ropes and begins to rain down crimson right hands on the jaw of Nickles! The crowd counts along with each punch… 1… 2… 3… 4… NO!

CHARLIE grabs GRAVES in a powerbomb position!

Graves reaches out for something, anything he can grab a hold of!

THE BARBED WIRE BAT!

Charlie walks Graves over to the pile of tacks, but just about when he’s about to Jackknife him-

GRAVES GRINDS THE BARBED WIRE ACROSS CHARLIES FACE - RAKING HIM IN THE EYES WITH IT!

TODD: Alright, that’s it… I can’t watch!

STARS: DON’T FUCK OUR RATINGS, TODD!

Charlie is forced to let go and Graves drops down on his feet. Graves grabs Charlie with a front face lock!

He LIFTS!

CUTTER!

TODD: THE END ON THE TACKS!!! THE END ON THE TACKS!!!

STARS: BY GOD WHAT A SIGHT. OUR TWO TOP CHAMPIONS, BLEEDING LIKE STUCK PIGS!

Graves staggers back to his feet, but he can barely keep himself upright. He falls backwards onto the ropes by the door. The referee opens the door for him. But Graves simply has to look back one last time.

He sees Charlie Nickles, with tacks all in his crimson-masked face, smiling, and giving him the finger!

You know which finger!

Graves looks at the open door, and shakes his head. He turns himself around and gingerly walks over to Charlie, standing over him.

Graves slowly pulls Charlie back to his feet, takes him for another front face lock, and yanks him up!

BUT WHEN HE DOES, THE BARBED WIRE BAT IN CHARLIES HANDS COMES CRASHING UP INTO GRAVES CROTCH!

TODD: God damn it! Micheal Graves had the match won! All he had to do was walk out the damned door!

STARS: And there it is.

TODD: There what is?

STARS: The reason we need a man like Charlie to clean things up around here. Too much ego and pride.

TODD: You’re one to talk!

STARS: I am, aren’t I?

Charlie, heavily staggered now, takes Graves over to the pile of tacks remaining and double underhooks him again. Graves does everything he can to fight out of it, but Charlie is doing everything he can to drop him on his head one more time!

CHARLIE GOES FOR THE DEVIL HOOK DROP!

GRAVES COUNTERS WITH A BACK BODY DROP!

NO!

CHARLIE HOLDS ON! HE’S UPSIDE DOWN ON GRAVES’ BACK!

GRAVES CHARGES TOWARD THE CAGE WALL, SLAMMING CHARLIE’S ENTIRE BODY FULL FORCE INTO THE MESH!

TODD: Oh my God! How can Graves even hold Charlie up like that with all the blood he’s lost?

STARS: With the blood that he hasn’t yet lost. Duh.

CHARLIE’S GRIP WEAKENS!

GRAVES TAKES CHARLIE ON ANOTHER TRIP, TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE RING, THROWING BOTH THEM AT FULL FORCE-

THEY HIT THE DOOR AND IT SWINGS OPEN!

TODD: OOH! That was CLOSE!

STARS: Yeah…

TODD: They both almost fell out!

CHARLIE DROPS DOWN ON HIS FEET, WITH THE DOUBLE UNDERHOOK STILL LOCKED ON!

DEVIL HOOK DROP… CONNECTS!!!

GRAVES HEAD SLAMS INTO THE PILE OF TACKS FOREHEAD FIRST!!!

BUT THE MASSIVE IMPACT CAUSES MICHEAL TO BOUNCE RIGHT BACK UP TO HIS FEET…

HE STAGGERS BACKWARDS OVER TO THE ROPES…

AND STUMBLES THROUGH THEM!

OUT THE DOOR AND ONTO THE RINGSIDE FLOOR!

DING DING DING!!!

TODD: This HELL is FINALLY, MERCIFULLY, OVER!!!!

WINNER AND RECIPIENT OF NEW MERCH OPPORTUNITY COURTESY OF JIMMY STARS: MICHEAL GRAVES (CONCEIVABLY)


STARS: Boo!

Inside the ring, Charlie Nickles sits in a pool of their blood and spent thumbtacks, with the barbed wire baseball bat at his side.

He looks out to Micheal Graves laying on the ringside floor much the same.

And even though he was not declared the winner tonight.

Charlie sits pleased knowing that, in his mind, that his ring is just a little bit cleaner than when the night started.

Fade on Charlie Nickles being handed the Universal Championship belt with a genuine on his face, and with a thumbtack sticking out and through his one nostril.

[Image: wireline.png]

Hold onto your Hats:

Match Writers:
The Maple Moose (JY)
THE MACHINE (Considerably)
Dolly Needs a Pardon
A Nickle-Plated Big Gold Belt
The Spirit of Ned Kaye
Jimmy Motherfuckin’ Stars

Segment Writers:
A No Good Bastard (TK)
Double Moose (JY)
THE MACHINE (Allegedly)
BASHY
Hammerhead Shark/Summer SZN
King Kraken Awakened

RPers:
You
Your friends
Your friends friends
And in fifteen years, your crotch goblins

“Is this… not… a stage divine?”
See you in all in Two Weeks
Where we'll do it all again-
Much Love for you All-
Our XWF Community
]]>

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06 - 19 - 2025

LIVE FROM SOUTH BROADWAY ATHLETIC CLUB

ST. LOUIS, MISSOURI



JACKSON HART
- vs -
JC KEETON
Singles


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XXXVI
- vs -
FRANCES MARIGOLD

X-Treme Rules


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INQUISITION
- vs -
RAZOR BLADE w/ LATOYA HIXX

Singles


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MR OZ
- vs -
DAMIAN SANTOS

Singles


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LARRY TACT
- vs -
ATARA RAVEN

Singles


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SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
SIR LIONEL PENNYFARTHING

Singles


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Anarchy Tag Title Match

Them No Good Bastards
BOBBY BOURBON & THUNDER KNUCKLES ©
- vs -
THUGS

Traditional Tag


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"KING" JUSTIN YORK
- vs -
JAMES SHARK

Non-Title Singles


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CHARLIE NICKLES
- vs -
MICHEAL GRAVES (conceivably)

Easy Way Out cage match
The only way to win the match is to walk out of the cage door!
Winner gets a new item on XWF shop.com!
(Non-Title)





Plumes of Blue and White pyrotechnics shoot out from tubes around the makeshift entry ramp on the stage and mark the start of our show. Finally, after the fallout of REBELLION, XWF has returned to SELL OUT the full 550-person capacity (and maybe a few extra, don't be a snitch) of the historic South Broadway Athletic Club for this edition of Thursday Night ANARCHY!!! Even still, there are hundreds, nay, millions more who are watching and streaming LIVE from their homes!!!

As soon as the pyros finish, "Lithium" by Nirvana hits over the speakers, officially welcoming XWF fans to yet another edition of their favorite syndicated full-contact wrestling show, which we lovingly refer to as "The A-Show".

The Anarchy announce team is at ringside, preparing for a night filled with action!!  With "Lithium" still playing over the speakers the cameras pan around to those few lucky and avid members of the Anarchy faithful from all ages, races, creeds & colors screaming on the tops of their lungs, proudly wearing their XWF Merchandise and holding up signs for their favorite (or least favorite) stars:


WE'RE BEGINNING TO CONCEIVE... ALLEGEDLY

GIVE US SHARK WEEK

THE GUY BEHIND ME CAN'T SEE CHARLIE NICKLES - LOL

WHO NAMES THEIR KID XXXVI?

I AM #TACTALIZINGLY #VILAROFIT

ALL EYES ON SUMMER SZN

WE ALREADY MISS YOU BAMA T.!

F*CK FATTEUS DUKE #XWFRadio

THE GUY IN FRONT OF ME CAN SEE CHARLIE NICKLES - LOL

IF THE THUGS WIN - WE RIOT. IF THE THUGS LOSE - WE STILL RIOT!


The fans inside the Athletic Club are murmuring and ready to get the massive NINE match card of XWF’s Anarchy underway! They have packed the hall hours before bell time, taken time to pass by the local Professional Wrestling Wall of Fame, and they're more than anticipating how this night could add even more plaques to that (in)famous wall.

The hard cam pans around the arena catching glimpses of the excitement in the hall.

TODD: Ladies and Gentlemen welcome to THURSDAY NIGHT ANARCHY! As always, I am your host Todd Moschitti, and not-at-all-like-always, I'm being joined by my new broadcast partner for the evening, our new, uhm general manager? Uhm, I guess it's an honor to have you - Jimmy Stars!

STARS: You're damn right it's an honor, Todd. But the honor and the pleasure are all mine.

TODD: No offense, Mister Stars. But shouldn't you be in your office?

STARS: Please, just call me Jimmy.

TODD: Alright, Jimmy. Shouldn't you be in your office?

STARS: See, that's the thing about me, Todd. I'm a down-in-the-trenches, hands-on kinda guy. Besides, who could ever replace the LEGENDARY Bama T.? No one. That's why I'm out here, taking one for our team.

TODD: Okay. Well, I suppose that's nice of you. There's a massive card up ahead. One of XWF's larger shows at a billed nine whole matches. And I was wonder-

Jimmy cuts Todd off.

STARS: The promotion by our super STARS has been crazy, too! Nearly everyone had their piece to say on social media or whatever. Things you love to see: this.

TODD: Yes, that's absolutely true. Lots of good promos. Just like every other XWF show. But what I was going to ask you is that if there were any matches that you, our new General Manager, are particularly interested in?

STARS: Oh, all of them, to be honest with you. It's a new era, yada yada, no one really cares. But I'm telling you now, like I'm telling the entire Anarchy Locker Room: there's opportunities to be had. Anarchy is growing and there isn't a single member on this roster that I don't have my eyes on. Starting with Hart and Keeton, and ending with our Conceivably Conceivable Anarchy Champ "Conceivably" Micheal Graves and our new Universal Champion, "The Nickleman" Charlie Nickles.

TODD: Cool. Well, tonight we start out with a double debut, as Jackson Hart takes on JC Keeton to see who can come barreling out of the gate with momentum.

STARS: Uh huh, uh huh.

TODD: Then we have the mysterious XXXVI taking on Frances Marigold in an Xtreme Rules match. Marigold must be pleased, he’s got a real chance at picking up the W here with the stipulation being, seemingly, in his favor. That’s not to count out XXXVI at all though-

STARS: I know. I know.

TODD: Ohh kayyy. Then we have-

STARS: A match even I didn’t expect!

TODD: Really? Why?

STARS: NO ONE EXPECTS THE INQUISITION! Haha, yeah!

TODD: …you mean the Spanish Inquisition?

STARS: Oh shit, really? My bad. I wasn’t trying to be insensitive, Senor Inquisitiones!

TODD: Ugh. Well Inquisition has to get the ball rolling quick and decisively tonight as he takes on Razor Blade with his American Storm Tag Team Partner Layota Hixx to cheer him on at ringside.

STARS: Dos y uno!

TODD: No. It’s still a singles match.

STARS: Si?

TODD: You booked it!

STARS: Si!

TODD: Then it's Oz versus Damian Santos. I think the kid could learn a thing or two from Oz in the ring, if he lasts longer than he did in his debut, that is.

STARS: Who?

TODD: Damian Santos or Oz?

STARS: I know OZ. Jesus, Todd. I’ve seen the movie. Anyone can tell he’s a wizard. No, I’m talking about the other guy.

TODD: He’s the one who fought Doctor Holly Cambric in the preshow-

STARS: OH! The one who showed up drunk to the ring?

TODD: He did not show up drunk, he was drugged!

STARS: Ugh. The kids these days. They’ll do anything to catch a buzz.

TODD: That’s… not what happened at all.

STARS: It’s sad, really. Back in my day we used to drink warm beers straight out of the box and-

TODD: THEN we have the “Tactalizing One” Larry Tact vs. Atara Raven in what’s sure to be an instant classic. I’m sure the fans here in the Athletic Club are stoked to be witnessing two legends from wildly different backgrounds battle it out like it’s the beginning of their careers all over agai-

STARS: Look, that could be the Main Event of any other Anarchy, too. But I love Atara Raven and I love Larry Tact. The only two people I love more are the core fans and the target demographic. And since that’s the case, this isn’t our main event. We’re gonna keep on rollin’ baby, you know what time it is!

TODD: Anarchy Stalwart Summer Page puts her undefeated non-title match streak on the line against Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing!

STARS: I don’t know what a Pennyfarthing is, but okay!

TODD: It’s a man. He works for you?

STARS: What else is new! I came to see Summer Page, is what the fans are saying. All Eyes On Us? Perhaps we get a little preview of Summer SZN here tonight!

TODD: Are you… okay?

STARS: Sure am, Tim!

TODD: That’s… reassuring.

STARS: We Got Them No Good Bastards… The Reigning… Defending… Bashmaster-Approved Anarchy Tag Team Champions Valiantly Defending Their Battle Earned Straps Against Not A Thug, Not Thee Thug, But The Thugs! Plural!

TODD: …

STARS: And We Cap It All Off With A Pair Of Championship Showcases! Justin York, Our Very, Very Canadian Revolution Champion Will Go Swimming With The Shark. Nothing On The Line But Pride… But Pride Goes Far, Todd!

TODD: Then in our main event, we have a steel cage match. But I got to be honest with you, Jimmy, the ceilings here at the South Broadway Athletic Club in downtown Saint Louis, Missouri aren’t that high. Is it even possible to fit a steel cage in here?

STARS: We’ll make it work!

TODD: How? You can’t just… say… things…

STARS: Dunno! Not my problem! But We Got All These Superstars, Plus The Universal Champion Charlie Motherfluckin Nickles And Purportedly, Preposterously, Surreptitiously Micheal Graves Under This Very Roof! So if we could achieve that, then the cage is going to fit. I promise it will fit… even  if I have to make it fit my damned self!!

TODD: You’re in a wheelchair.

STARS: It’s a mobility scooter you f-


BEHIND THE BUILDING


In the rear parking lot of the historic South Broadway Athletic Club in St. Louis, Missouri. TK's new Camero screeches to a halt. The doors swing open, and out steps Bobby Bourbon and Thunder Knuckles, the crowd of 500 pops because the biggest stars of Anarchy have arrived. As the Bastards walk toward the door, a fresh-faced interviewer comes running up like a guy trying to cancel his bar tab.

"Oh wow! Thunder Knuckles! Bobby! Hold up, just one quick question for the XWF audience."

"Who the hell are you, Bama Jr.? Get out of our face. We’re not here to get stuck in another of your ‘exclusives’."

"I got this, Bobby."

"I’ll be in the locker room when you’re done."

Them No Good Bastards exchange a no-look fist bump before Bobby walks off.

"You know, Bama Jr.… usually I’d tell you to take that mic and shove it up your ass."

Bama Jr’s (Not His Name) gulp is audible.

"But tonight? Nah, tonight I got something to say. So I’m sitting at home, minding my own damn business, cracking open a cold one, watching some clips of the beating me and my tag team partner Bobby Bourbon put on Game Girl. When someone sends me this cute little interview, and there he is, folks. Justin York, sitting under soft lights, hair all moussed up, looking like a backup dancer for Nickelback, saying he'd like to face yours truly, Ol' Thunder Knuckles."

TK cracks open a beer he pulls from the pocket of his sleeveless denim jacket, takes a long, disrespectful drink, and belches without apology.

"You’d like to face me? That’s sweet. Really. That’s like a goldfish saying it’d like to go ten rounds with a goddamn shark. Let's keep it one hundred, York. This ain’t some fantasy booking podcast. You don’t get to wish your way into the ring with me like you have a magic lamp that you rub three times and a genie pops out. You opened your mouth, and now I'm kicking in your fucking door."

He tosses the beer can off-screen.

"But I ain’t doing it for fun. I ain’t doing it because you’re cute when you cry on Twitter. I’m only doing it for one reason. That little trinket you wear around your waist. The Revolution Championship. You know, that belt you’ve been holding so tightly like it’s your support dog."

He yanks off his Pit Vipers, staring with violent intent.

"You wanna face Thunder Knuckles? Then cough it up, bitch mouth. Put the belt on the line, or get back in the kiddie pool where you belong."

TK chuckles, then points directly at the camera.

"It’s time your Canadian ass took a trip on the Ohio Turnpike. Straight into the deep end, no lifejacket, and no way out. You practically begged for this, York. You asked for the devil, and now he’s at your door with a steel chair and a beer buzz. So next Anarchy, you either show up with that Revolution Title and put it on the line… or you shut your damn mouth and keep dreaming about what it's like to  be relevant."

TK throws up some gang signs that he learned in the hood to represent Them No Good Bastards.

"One way or another, I’m walking out with that belt, York. And all you’re gonna be walking out with are three L's. A loss, a limp, and a fucking lesson. Now, if you excuse me, Bama, me and Bobby are going to get ready to be the only champions defending tonight."


RINGSIDE


STARS: HEY! That No Good Bastard cut me off!

TODD: Sucks, doesn’t it?

STARS: I’ll give Thunder Fuckle a pass, this time. Hahaha. Bama Junior. That one’s gonna stick, I bet.

TODD: Isn’t the important part that TK just challenged King York for the Revolution Title, Jimmy?

STARS: I mean, I guess. I ain’t had the job for five minutes, and everyone out here already thinking they can do it better than me!

TODD: But you’re out here doing MY job!

STARS: That’s because I’m the best goddamned commentator you’ve ever seen, Rodd.

TODD: IT’S TODD!

STARS: Hey man, chill out, relax! Let’s take this to commercial break and let Todd compose himself for our first match. It’s going to be a long night!

TODD: Sitting next to you now… I can already tell that’s true.

[Image: wireline.png]


THE XWF PODCAST
LISTEN TO V3 - EPISODE 1 NOW

Haven’t you always dreamed of being able to do two things at once?
WELL NOW YOU CAN!!

Watch Anarchy and listen to the latest XWF Podcast
AT THE SAME TIME!!

Or check out the XWF Official™ Media YouTube Channel for other, older, smellier podcasts
Of equal value but with more of that fine natural patina!

You really can’t get enough XWF in your life. Trust us. We know!
Satisfy your craving.
Do it. We won’t tell.
Do it. Like and Subscribe.
Do it.

[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: Folks, we’re starting off this show with a bang! In PWV, these two spit daggers at each other! It’s spilled onto X, where the two have sub-tweeted AND tagged each other!

STARS: And did you see what they said about each other to promote this match? They went ALL-OUT! And if you missed it? You can rewatch their promos on the XWF Network app!



“Tyler Herro” by Jack Harlow hits the speakers and the arena lights shift into pulsing red and white strobe effects. Jackson Hart steps out onto the stage, smirking, spinning an Ace of Hearts card between his fingers.

He walks with slow, confident swagger, mouthing lyrics to the beat as he flicks the card at the camera with pinpoint precision.

TODD: Jackson Hart! This man created the highest expectations for himself when he said the last two Anarchy champions AND every Revolution champion in the belt’s history weren’t up to his level! And he promised to wipe Sean Parker’s face off the XWF Twitter’s Anarchy logo and become the face of Thursday Night wrestling!

STARS: I love a sales pitch! But, any businessman knows you gotta see the product in action before you buy! I’m intrigued at what the Ace of Wrestling, the young man who made Chi-Town Wrestling the talk of Chicago’s wrestling scene can do! But, it’s all puff until you’ve got some wins under your belt!

Ring Announcer: “Making his way to the ring… from Chicago, Illinois… weighing in at 190 pounds… he is ‘The Ace of Pro Wrestling’… JAAACKSOOON HAAART!”

Jackson slides under the bottom rope, climbs to the second turnbuckle, spreads his arms wide like a king basking in the spotlight, and mouths to the crowd: “You’re looking at the whole damn show.”



A deep bass rumble hits first—like the distant crack of a thunderstorm rolling over farmland. The screen flickers to life with vintage home video clips: grainy footage of a young JC in headgear wrestling in dusty high school gyms… riding horses… before fast-forwarding to JC lifting the IWF world title!

BLACK SCREEN.

A burst of golden-white pyro erupts from both sides of the entrance ramp!

JC KEETON bursts through the curtain with laser focus. He doesn’t slow down. No theatrics. No posturing. He walks with an athlete’s gait—loose shoulders, tight fists, jaw locked, eyes burning forward.

He doesn’t look left or right. Just straight down the aisle, headed straight for the ring.

TODD: JC Keeton may be entering his first match in the XWF, but he made a huge statement at Rebellion, interfering in the champion versus champion match between Revolution champion Justin York and Anarchy champion “Micheal Graves”... allegedly.

STARS: York had broken every rule in the book to get to that point, but in that moment, he had ‘Graves’ right where he wanted him! He might’ve been just seconds away from becoming Anarchy’s first ever double champion! But JC Keeton, York’s employee back at PWV stuck his nose in and took it all away! Will York get his vengeance on Keeton and stick his nose in this match? Don’t touch that dial!

TODD: It’s 2025. Who has a dial on their television anymore?

STARS: Who has a TV?

TODD: Fair? Maybe?

STARS: Don’t swipe left on us, kids! Or is it right?!

At ringside, JC stops just before the apron. He finally lifts his head and stares at the ring—his eyes scanning the ropes like a battlefield. Then, with one quick inhale through the nose, he hops to the apron in a single fluid motion.

He wipes his boots, then steps through the ropes and immediately climbs the second turnbuckle, not to pose—but to look across the crowd, as if searching for someone who still doubts him.

TODD: JC Keeton! The son of Jake Keeton! A two-time world champion in wrestling countries around the world!

STARS: But he’s never won belts in the XWF, Todd! This is where the big boys play! This is where every talent in the world wants to compete! And only one of these men is leaving their very first match with a mark in the win column!

…

The official steps between the competitors, giving them instructions…

Jackson Hart stands in his corner,  eyes locked on JC Keeton like a lion watching a rival predator. He rolls his neck, exhales sharply through his nose, and flicks an Ace toward his opponent.

Across the ring, JC Keeton bounces lightly on the balls of his feet. His face betrays no smirk—only cold, quiet intensity. His jaw is clenched tight, a flicker of tension around his eyes. He barely blinks.

TODD: These two men are very similar, but very different! Both got into wrestling in their teens! Both are second-generation talent!

STARS: But Jackson Hart was the young star of his father’s wrestling promotion, Chi-Town Wrestling… Meanwhile, Jake Keeton was calling every promoter in a two-hundred-mile radius, telling them not to give JC a shot!

TODD: Very different roads to get to this match, Jimmy!

The official signals to the timekeeper…

DING DING!

JACKSON HART
- vs -
JC KEETON
Singles Match


TODD: And we’re off! These two men got PERSONAL in their promos! So get ready for this one to pop off quick!

STARS: You’re not kidding, Todd! Jackson said JC would never escape his father’s shadow… AND brought up JC’s dead mom! Meanwhile, JC said no one gives a SHIT about Jackson Hart, not even HIS mother!

TODD: Both claim the other is the first step on their journey to dominating Thursday nights!

STARS: And dominating insults on their opponents mothers as well!

Jackson circles first, eyes narrowing as he beckons JC forward with a lazy wave of the fingers. A little arrogance to bait him. JC doesn’t fall for it. Instead, he lunges in low.

JC shoots the hips, fast—too fast—for a clean sprawl. JC grabs Jackson’s leg. Jackson’s eyes flash wide, surprised by JC’s speed, and he shifts weight with practiced reflexes, sprawling just enough to stop JC’s momentum!

TODD: Both these men have wrestled since childhood! These are two young men with decades of experience combined!

STARS: They barely have decades combined!

As JC tries to brute force Jackson onto his front, Jackson rolls through the takedown attempt, wrenching into a front facelock, his biceps clamping down.

JC’s eyes flick with tension, but he doesn’t panic. Instead, JC rotates into the grip and slips out with sharp precision, twisting behind Jackson’s back into a rear waistlock. JC tightens his grip  on Jackson’s waist and smirks, cocking his head toward the crowd.

TODD: Beautiful chain wrestling on display here, Jimmy! Look at the instincts, the fluidity—JC has Jackson’s back already!”

STARS: Don’t blink, Todd!

TODD: Or I’ll miss the moment one of these men secures control?

STARS: No, Nielsen ratings are based on eyeball tracking technology now, NEVER LOOK AWAY FROM THE RING! This has gotta be the highest-rated Anarchy in XWF history!

TODD: …that can’t be true.

STARS: I have it on good authority, Tidd.

TODD: Tidd’s not even a real name. Who told you this?

STARS: Dwayne “The Grok” Johnson!

TODD: …

STARS: What?

Jackson’s nostrils flare. His hands shoot down, and he grabs JC’s wrist. He steps behind and reverses the waistlock, smoothly transitioning into a hammerlock. Jackson’s mouth curls in satisfaction now—momentum recovered. Jackson jerks JC’s arm upward, just enough to feel he’s established control!

TODD: Jackson Hart takes control in the opening sequence!

STARS: Don’t speak too soon, Todd!

JC winces, eyes narrowing. He shifts his weight and drops to the mat, quickly turning his body through Jackson’s hold, and transitions into a wristlock of his own, rising back to his feet as he twists Hart’s arm behind his back.

The crowd oooooohs aloud at JC’s technical prowess!

TODD: …Wow, great prediction, Jimmy! JC finds a way to counter out of Jackson’s wristlock into one of his own!

STARS: A certain captain from the future who shall not be named may or may not have tipped me off of a few things going down here tonight.

TODD: Is that so? Wristlocks being on the top of the list?

STARS: No.

Jackson grits his teeth, the flicker of frustration rising behind his smug demeanor. He tries to roll through—JC follows!

Jackson tries a standing switch—JC counters again, moving step for step.

TODD: Rapid counters! Each man attacking, countering, and attacking! This is like blitz chess if chess pieces were fists!

STARS: That’s called parity, Todd. And you know what parity is? I used to think it was the word for a live action remake. But actually it’s PRIME FOR MARKETING. Give me a rivalry like this and I’ll sell merch until my office has a helipad!

Jackson yanks his arm free and snaps into a side headlock, wrenching it tight with a grimace. He mutters something under his breath. JC doesn’t answer, but instead shoves Hart to the ropes.

Jackson bounces off, looking for a clothesline!

…But JC ducks the first rebound!

Hart rebounds back off the ropes on the opposite side!

JC leapfrogs—smooth, vertical leap sky high.

TODD: Wow! Scope that vertical leap!

STARS: That’s at least ten or fifteen feet, Twod!

TODD: No, it isn’t!

Hart comes back, bouncing off the ropes once more!

JC latches his arm around Hart’s, seeking! a hip toss—

But Jackson rolls over, lands on his feet mid-rotation, and immediately shoots behind JC, goes for a backslide pin!

TODD: Ah! Hart looking to steal this one!

ONE!

TW-NO!

STARS: Not even a two-count off that one!

JC rolls through the backslide! As Hart tries to get back to a verical base, Keeton hooks both Hart’s arms…

TIGER SUP-No!

Instead, Jackson fights out with sharp elbows to the temple, snapping JC’s head sideways. JC staggers backwards into the ropes!

Jackson backs into the ropes and sprints forward…

Discus Back Elb-NO!

JC ducks it with a quick drop step!

TODD: Wow! Both these men seem to know every counter for what the other’s gonna do!

As Jackson rebounds back off the ropes, JC aims a decapitating…

CLOTHESL-...NO!

Jackson juuuuuuust ducks under the arc of JC’s rising forearm!

JC spins around as Jackson rebounds off the ropes again, before leaping through the air!

RUNNING KNE-...NO!

JC evades, spinning out to the side!

TODD: This sequence is absolutely insane! Who’s gonna hit who first?!?

STARS: I don’t know, I don’t remember!

TODD: I meant now!

STARS: I said I don’t know! I don’t remember!

They both sprint for the ropes!

And they both have the same idea!

RUNNING CROSS-BODIES!

…

They both connect! And collide to the mat!

TODD: A successful hit for both men! But it’s not clear who took the worst of it there!

…

Both men crash to the mat, their bodies thudding at the same moment.

A beat of stillness as the crowd rumbles excited with the technical exhibition they’re seeing…

And then—

KIP-UPS IN STEREO!

THE CROWD ERUPTS!

TODD: ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! THEY KIPPED UP AT THE SAME TIME!

STARS: This goes beyond athleticism, Todd. This is pure SPITE. That’s two egos colliding in the air and refusing to hit the mat for long. It makes it so much easier to keep my eyes on the ring! No blinking!

TODD: Neither man giving ground. Neither man blinking, but not for the Nielson ratings. This is what it looks like when two rising stars try to eclipse each other.

The crowd is buzzing after the double kip-up. Jackson Hart and JC Keeton close the distance again, their movements sharp, coiled like sprinters at the gun.

They lunge toward each other again—!

Jackson gets the first grip, wrapping JC in a collar-and-elbow tie-up—but instead of wrestling clean, he rakes the forearm across JC’s mouth, muttering something cruel and low enough to keep the camera guessing…

TODD: Oh! The audio didn’t pick up what Jackson just said to JC… but you can imagine JC didn’t like it based on the look on his face!

STARS: Note to self. Mic up the ring…

JC’s face contorts with rage, eyes flashing white-hot fury—he shoves Jackson off violently, then shoots in with his trademark explosive first step!

TODD: They are not just wrestling anymore. They are trying to embarrass each other.

STARS: You ever seen two stars try to outshine each other mid-supernova? You have now, baby!

Jackson tries to bowl over the speed demon Keeton with a…

CLOTHESLINE!

…NO!

Instead, JC snatches Jackson’s arm and drags him into a…

SNAP ARMDRAG!

…NO!

Instead Jackson rolls through, springing to his feet, and returns the favor with a…

SNAP ARMDRAG!

Connects!

TODD: A point to Jackson Hart!

STARS: Are we supposed to be scoring this?

JC scrambles to his feet from near the corner where Jackson flung him… Jackson tries to follow up, latching his arm around Keeton’s for another armdrag…

But instead, Keeton latches his grip around Hart’s wrist! He scrambles backward up the turnbuckle and twists in mid-air with flair!

ROPEWALK ARMDRAG!

Connects!

TODD: This is rapidly turning into a game of ‘anything you can do, I can do better!

STARS: But they CANNOT be equally matched, Todd! One of these men WILL eventually outdo the other! STAY LOCKED IN ON YOUR SCREEN, viewers at home! NEILSON CAN SEE YOU TOO!

TODD: No, it can’t.

STARS: Shut up, Tim!

Jackson lands hard off Keeton’s arm drag, eyes wide, surprised by the flourish… Keeton leaps for a dropkick…

INCREDIBLE VERTICAL LEAP!

TODD: Did Jackson get like… four feet of air there?

STARS: At least twelve by my count!

TODD: …

STARS: Enter this kid in a dunk contest already!

DROPKICK!

…NO!

…Despite Keeton’s incredible hops, Jackson manages to slide to the side! Keeton eats mat!

The crowd gasps!

TODD: Never thought of that before, but when you can jump that high, missing a dropkick can be like eating mat from a move off the turnbuckle!

STARS: Live by the hops, die by the hops, Todd!

Keeton covers his face, trying to get back to a vertical base…

But he rises straight into Hart’s arms!

SNAP DDT!

…

Connects!

JC’s head snaps to the mat!

Immediately followed by Hart kipping up off the mat!

EGO TRIP!

The crowd oooohs and claps, as Hart reaches into his tights and tosses another Ace of Hearts into the crowd!

TODD: How many tricks… and cards… does Jackson Hart have up his sleeve?!?

STARS: Remember fans! Visit the merch table after the show for Jackson Hart card decks! Every deck has fifty-two aces of hearts!

TODD: Makes go fish kinda pointless if you ask me.

STARS: War was intense, though!

Jackson stalks behind JC now, eyes sharp, the performance dial turned up to eleven…

Keeton woozily rises up to his feet, clearly still feeling some effects to his noggin after that DDT…

TODD: Jackson Hart looking for a win here in his debut!

Hart steps toward the ropes, rebounding up—clearly ready to hit the…

ACE IN THE HOLE!

…

NO!

As Hart wraps his bicep around Keeton’s skull, Keeton turns his body and hooks his arms around Hart…

BACKSLIDE!!

TODD: Oh my! Keeton looking to steal this one!

ONE!

TWO!

THR-NO!

JACKSON KICKS OUT!

Jackson explodes to his feet in frustration…

…Just as JC springs off the ropes…

Leaping through the air!

TODD: LOOK AT THESE HOPS!

ODE TO THE OUTLAW!!! (Leaping Leg Lariat)

…

CONNECTS!

Jackson’s head snaps back, body twisting mid-air before crashing to the mat like a ragdoll!

TODD: HE NAILED HIM! ODE TO THE OUTLAW FROM NOWHERE!

STARS: That looked like getting hit by a lightning bolt!

JC hooks the leg tight. His teeth are clenched, face dripping sweat and venomous satisfaction.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!!!

WINNER: JC KEETON


TODD: JC Keeton just staked his claim in the XWF—and did it by outplaying, outlasting, and outwrestling Jackson Hart in a match that was as personal as it gets! But, you have to imagine… If the variables play out a HAIR differently… a roll of the dice… or an Ace on the river… And this one easily could have gone Jackson Hart’s way!

STARS: This match wasn’t clean, Todd. It was messy. It was petty. It was brilliant. And I already know—this is not the last time we’ll see these two lock horns. You don’t get closure from something like this. You get chapter one.

TODD: You need an absolute banger out of your opening match to set the tone for the rest of the evening, and regardless, these two absolutely delivered for you there, Jimbo. You have got to be beyond impressed with both young talent.

STARS: Never. Call me that. Again.

TODD: Sorry? I couldn’t hear you over the roar of the crowd, Jimbo!

[Image: wireline.png]

STARS: This ain’t over!

TODD: Sure it is! Folks, we’re rolling right along onto our X-Treme Rules match for the night!

STARS: Fine. But hey, listen, they don’t call us the X-Treme Wrestling Federation for nothing, Thom! This is where the chains of morality and ethics are cast off in favor of AUDIENCE ENTERTAINMENT! Don’t touch that dial, you sickos, you’re about to get exactly what you tuned in for!

TODD: You have a thing for these dials.  - - - BUT WAIT! WHAT'S THIS???

The broadcast feed shifts, and we’re back…stage?

Back…hall?

BACKSTAGE - IS WHAT WE'RE CALLING IT


At the Broadway Athletic Club in St. Louis. The 500 seat, 10,000-ish square foot arena.

There’s a curtain partition separating the kitchen from a more intimate, more… arousing area of the arena.

There’s a “knock”, or something more like a RAP– RAP— RAP on the curtain.

The camera turns to see the owner of this soundless fist…

THE CROWD POPS!

It’s none other than the XWF Anarchy Champion, “Allegedly” Micheal Graves…

He keeps knocking on the curtain, making little progress in stirring the attention of whom or whatever might be on the other side.

There’s no way “Graves” can be making much sound

RAP–RAP–RAP

His fist bats against the curtain,

The dense clattering throughout the mess hall is extremely noisy, and even louder still, from behind the curtain we can hear…



But nevertheless… a head pops out from behind the curtains. It’s forehead becoming a surface to turn the –RAP–RAP–RAPs into some -THUNK–THUNK-THUNKs–

[Image: it-crowd.gif]

BARRY MASTERSON: Hold FIRM old boy! Daddies yet to lather up!

FORMER…Former? ANARCHY GM BARRY “THE BASHMASTER” MASTERSON APPEARS FROM BEHIND THE CURTAIN

...

Barry finally takes a good look at the man knocking on his head,

Oh! By the heavens, it’s MY… ehhh… my former champion

Uh… I think that’s actually ‘current champion’, Bashman. ‘Graves’ lifts the Anarchy title on his shoulder.

Haha, of course, YOU’RE still current! But I’m on my way to being former!

’On your way’? ‘Graves’ nods ”Excellente! While you’re still around, Bash’o… I need your help - - - Quick!

Around? he steps fully through the curtain Oh, yes…I’ve been around for a long, LONG time…

He leans into Graves’ ear

...and I can’t quite *get off* the ride.

‘Graves’ is snapping his middle finger against his thumb, laying his hand just infront of Bashy’s face,

Focus, Barold. Follow the sound of my voice to planet Earth.

He keeps snapping… As Barry looks off in the middle distance forlornly…

…’Graves’ sighs. Come on, brown Barr… Ol’ ‘Gravy’ needs ya.

My… he quivers with sadness, sinking his head, ...former champion? Needs me? ANYTHING!

‘Graves’ eyebrow twitches irritatedly. Look, Mastronaut… I don’t care who you work for or who I work for… As long as we’re both aligned toward worker’s rights? I’ll always be YOUR champion. So fuck that former shit.”

…’Graves’ clears his throat. ”But, on the subject of ‘XWF shit’... Just checking, you still technically are … from what I understand… in a position of power here? Yes (please-say-yes)?

Power… he chuckles ...I’ve knowing nothing but power all of my life, from my head to my…

Graves rubs at his temples,

...please say to your toes…

Bashy bursts into laughter, putting a hand on Grave’s shoulder, leading him behind the curtain

No, my boy! To my loins!

...oh my god.

Power is abhorrent, it corrupts, my dearest Gravy. It is for this reason I have taken a step back into a more…. he waves his arm out at the room before them ...PRINCIPLED roll

There’s literally an orgy of six or seven taking place.

Damnit! Barry, for sixty FUCKING seconds… LOCK IN.

“Graves” tries pulling Barry back through the other side of the curtain, but Barry pulls back. Unrelenting, glowing, thirsting to share his decadent drink of passion with an old friend,

Fine, FINE!

I’ll “FOCUS”...

“GRAVES”

Flynn “Graves” gasps… before straightening his belt on his shoulder.

”Oh, Baraldo… Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for the old… ‘Flynn is Graves, Graves is Flynn’ fake news, conspiracy theory! You saw me wrestle Mark Flynn at WarGames! How could we be the same guy?“

Still won’t confess, even as our partnership closes? Barry sighs bittersweetly. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love you for… whoever you claim to be. if not for you, my Bashtastic brand of Anarchy would’ve been… STERLING SHIT. What can I do to help you?

Flynn exhales,

Dolly Waters… heard of her?

Hmm… now I’ve had my fair share of fun with a dollie or two in my time but–

No, no! DOLLY! D-O-L-L-Y WATERS. The wrestler.

OH! The cute girl? She’s perhaps- he eyes his friend up and down, -a little too spry for you, old boy.

Goddamnit.

NO!

Her contract has been… *temporarily* (he means INDEFINITELY) suspended, by that.

Criminal!

I KNOW! It’s retaliatory malfeasance! That’s why I need you, Supreme Court Masteriuce, to reinstate her!

Barry spares no thought…

ABSOLUTELY!

“Graves” pumps his fist. YES!

...would have, old boy! If my GM contract hadn't expired several minutes before you walked in.

…

...What?

Indeed, sport. Had you asked literally two minutes ago, I could have done anything your heart decided… Darn shame!

TWO MINUTES!?! It took me like FIVE minutes to get you to stop talking about your loins!

Speaking of which… Bashmaster wriggles his eyebrows seductively. Now that I’m not your employer… Perhaps we can address the unspoken SEXUAL TENS-

WHAM! Pieface! ‘Graves’ shoves Bashy back behind the curtain!

”...FUCK.”

…

”Eh.” ‘Graves’ shakes his head, before walking down the hallway. ”Still a better GM than Sterling…”

RINGSIDE


TODD: Apologies for that interruption, folks!

STARS: Apologies? Why is that turd still showing his face on my sh-

TODD: Hold it right there, Jimmy… We still like Barry, even if he never remembered any of our names. And I’ve gotta’ say, to hear our champion asking for Dolly Wa-

STARS: No, NO! Just stop. I don’t care. And neither does anyone else.

TODD: Actually I think a lot of people care-

STARS: Time for the next match!



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. Half way down, he spreads his hands apart and reaches out both arms in T-Pose as he crouches, sauntering down the rest of the ramp toward the ring.

TODD: Here is the mysterious XXXVI! He made his presence known at Rebellion, attacking Inquisition after a 36-second countdown timer appeared on the X-Tron!

STARS: We know he’s here! But what we don’t know is why! Will we get answers tonight?

XXXVI climbs onto the apron, extends 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.



As Nirvana's Tourette's blares through the loudspeakers, the cameras pan around the arena looking for Frances Marigold in the crowd…

TODD: And here is Frances Marigold, who… well…

STARS: Is an absolute trainwreck and I can’t stop watching him! Ratings, Throg! My eyes are glued wide open!

TODD: Oof. Well, Marigold has been drunkenly stumbling through matches since his debut a few short weeks ago! While he hasn’t been traditionally successful, he has been absolutely dynamite to watch!

STARS: Like a youtube video of a drunken bear chasing a balloon by a cliff! It’s horrifying if what I think will happen happens… but I can’t bring myself to look away!

TODD: You look at weird stuff, man. Just saying.

STARS: That is very subjective of you.

TODD: No. It isn’t. Anyway, I digress because our camera is… taking an extra long time to find Frances Marigold, who tends to enter the ring from the crowd…

STARS: Well, maybe they should check the ramp, Todd!

Indeed! For once, Marigold actually emerges from the X-Tron… With a shopping cart of weapons!

Frances Marigold stumbles half-dressed down the ramp, dragging the rusted cart like it’s his guitar... The cart’s wheels squeal.

TODD: Look at what Frances brought with him! Kendo sticks! A dented bowling ball! A rusty stop sign on a pole, like he just plucked it out of the ground! Two-by-fours! …With questionable stains...

STARS: Frances brought everything but the kitchen si-... Wait, no, he also brought a kitchen sink!

Indeed! A kitchen sink hangs off one side of the cart by a chain, dragged along the ramp…

He parks his shopping cart of violence ringside… Before reaching into the cart…

TODD: Frances wisely selecting a weapon before he enters the ring with XXXVI! He could go kendo stick… Or he could go two-by-four… Or…

STARS: He’s reaching deep in there… And coming out with…

…

STARS: A six pack of beer!

Marigold grabs a six-pack of gas station beer from inside, and—with two fingers and no concern—rips the plastic rings, cracking one open and chugging. He’s barely upright, eyes bleary but somehow too intense.

TODD: ...The man brought a kitchen sink, and started with a beer. This is a cry for help disguised as a wrestling match.

STARS: Frances might wanna get it in gear of XXXVI will have him crying for help!

As Frances chugs his first beer… Crushing it against his skull… The official barks at Marigold, ordering to get in the ring so the match can start!

Frances… Raises his middle finger!

And cracks open another beer! And starts chugging it!

TODD: Is Frances planning on chugging that whole six-pack before the match?

STARS: Every talent has their own pre-match routine, Todd.

The official continues to bark at Frances to get in there!

…But inside the ring… the masked Enigma, XXXVI…

Bounds toward the ropes!

TODD: Oh! It looks like XXXVI has no intention on waiting for the bell!

XXXVI leaps!

TOPE SUICIDA! XXXVI goes hurtling through Frances Marigold!


CRASH.

Beer goes everywhere!




Their tangled bodies tumble into the shopping cart. Its contents go everywhere! Metal shrieks. The kendo sticks scatter like matchsticks. The bowling ball rolls under the ring. The stop sign bounces off the floor and into the front row. And the kitchen sink? It clangs to the ground with a finality like the ringing of a dinner bell in hell.

STARS: This match hasn’t even started and it’s already completely gone off the rails!

From inside the ring, the official shrugs and signals to the timekeeper!

FRANCES MARIGOLD
- vs -
XXXVI
Singles Match


TODD: And we’re off! Both competitors are outside the ring, but this is X-Treme Rules! No disqualifications! Falls count anywhere!

XXXVI, agile and breathless, rises first from the wreckage. His body tenses, breath sharp under the mask as his eyes flick across the ground for a weapon…

TODD: Very wise by XXXVI! Weapons have no loyalty and it looks like XXXVI is going to use some of the toys Marigold brought against him!

After a brief search, XXXVI spots it—a splintered two-by-four, one end duct-taped, the other jagged….

Frances scrambles woozily off the mat… He grabs…

TODD: Finally, we might see Frances do something related to winning this m-

A dented beer can from the six-pack…

TODD: Oh c’mon!

STARS: Frances Marigold is nothing if not consistent, Todd!

TODD: Consistently drunk?

STARS: If it fits, it ships!

TODD: I… don’t know what that even means.

…Frances shoves the beer into the pocket of his pants… And then…

Yanks up the stop sign—still attached to the bent steel pole, the red paint flaked with rust and mystery stains!

STARS: Some intersection in Saint Louis is more dangerous than it was when Marigold drove by it on the way to this very South Broadway Athletic Club!

…The two competitors turn to face each other, now each armed…

XXXVI nimbly rotates his two-by-four in his hands…

Frances sways once, burps audibly, and grins like a man too stubborn to die, as he smacks the pole of the stop sign in his hands…

TODD: I don’t even know how to describe this match…

STARS: I do. This is a samurai duel in a gas station parking lot. The masked monk versus the drunken demon.

XXXVI crouches low, two-by-four raised like a bokken...

Marigold stumbles drunkenly… And XXXVI takes the initiative—

XXXVI strikes—
Whack! to the ribs.
Thwack! to the thigh.
Crack! across the shoulder!

TODD: If you were expecting an even duel, it looks like XXXVI is the more skilled swordsman!

STARS: I dunno, Todd! Frances is getting hit, but he ain’t going down!

Indeed! Frances stumbles from XXXVI’s strikes but doesn't fall. His body absorbs the punishment like punching a couch cushion!

XXXVI brings the two-by-four down… But Frances sidesteps… And wildly swings!

Frances swings the stop sign—

THWACK! Direct hit to XXXVI’s side.

TODD: Oh my! Frances Marigold is on the board!

XXXVI’s body crumples from the stop sign attack! XXXVI drops to one knee, gritting his teeth, the two-by-four barely held in his fingers.


Frances burps, before steadying his stance… He lurches forward with another slow, looping swing!

STARS: God… this is what I think it would look like if a zombie played company softball…

TODD: You know, I’d invite you to play on the XWF softball team, but…

STARS: I swear to God, Todd.

TODD: What?

STARS: Not only could I play, I’d whoop your fucking ass, just like Frances is whooping Roman Numerals right now!

Frances brings the stop sign down!

…But XXXVI narrowly dodges!

XXXVI rolls through, comes up behind Frances, who’s still struggling to re-lift his stop sign.

TODD: He got a decent strike in! But that stop sign might be a bit too wieldy for Mister Marigold!

STARS: Who the hell says ‘wieldy’ in 2025?

TODD: Well don’t touch that dial we haven’t used for thirty years and you might find out!

Frances launches another wild arching swing…

But again XXXVI sidesteps!

Then—using the momentum—he spins in close and launches a swift upward smack with his two-by-four…

Right onto Marigold’s hand! Marigold drops the pole!

TODD: Masterful disarming move by XXXVI!

Frances blinks. Looks at his empty hands…. Like he’s still processing what just happened.

…

“Shit.”

XXXVI doesn’t hesitate. He winds up—

His back arches, knees bend, every fiber in his body tightens—]

CRAAACK! The two-by-four explodes against Frances’ forehead with an audible crunch. Splinters rain into the front row by the ramp! Frances’ body goes limp. He collapses flat on the steel ramp, arms splayed like a rockstar at the end of a concert set!

TODD: What a strike by XXXVI!

STARS: That was like watching a guillotine in slow motion! Frances Marigold just got taken to church by a flying piece of lumber!

TODD: It’s his cross to bear, apparently!

XXXVI, after the thunderous blow with the two-by-four, drops his weight across Frances Marigold’s chest. Hook of the leg, shoulders down…

The official scampers through the ropes and drops to make a count!

The crowd rises, counting along—

ONE!

TWO!

THRE—KICKOUT!

TODD: WHAT?!?

Frances jolts a shoulder up just in time, eyes rolling, a loose grin stretching across his blood-smeared face.

STARS: HOW!? This man’s brain is oatmeal! That should’ve been three, a funeral, and a wake!

XXXVI doesn’t argue. No wasted motion. He slides off, breath sharp, gaze focused like a sniper's, as he turns toward the weapons scattered around the ringside like a hunter choosing his slaying blade…

That’s when he sees them. Twin kendo sticks. He twirls them in each hand with trained precision, the handles gripped tight, his feet gliding forward like a ghost dressed for battle.

TODD: This XXXVI is a relentless hunter! Ultra Focused on bringing down his opponent!

STARS: Triple-X-Vye was a great pickup by yours truly!

Meanwhile—Frances crawls up the ramp like a man crawling out of a bar at 4AM, flails until his hand lands on something..

Spherical…

Cold…

…

The bowling ball.

TODD: Oh my…

STARS: If Frances was looking for an equalizer? I think he just found it!

A twisted smile splits Marigold’s face. His head cocks to the side like he just remembered an old joke…..

“Hehehehe… strike…”

Marigold slowly peels himself off the ramp, bringing up his new friend with him…

When XXXVI rushes in from behind…

CRACK!

CRACK!

XXXVI delivers alternating Kendo stick strikes to Marigold’s back!

Frances arches, howling, his whole spine vibrating like a tuning fork.

He slowly stumbles forward—retreating—staggering blindly to the top of the ramp.

Another pair of strikes! CRACK! CRACK!

TODD: XXXVI is trying to bring Frances down with those kendo sticks like one might bring down a blood simple animal with a cattle prod!

STARS: But I don’t think XXXVI realizes Frances is packing a bowling ball!

Frances reaches the top of the ramp, XXXVI stalks him from behind… And the scene’s caboose, the official, follows behind XXXVI, arms out, barking orders, trying to maintain some semblance of order1

When Frances turns—suddenly, violently.

And hurls the bowling ball like an olympics shot putter!

[blue]TODD: Oh God! That could take the masked man’s face clean off!

Even through his mask, XXXVI’s eyes go wide as the bowling bowls arcs his direction!

…

…..

HE DUCKS OUT OF INSTINCT!

The ball misses him by inches—

—and LANDS into the referee’s foot with horrifying force.

KERUNCH!

TODD: Oh my GOD! The official might have just gotten crippled!

STARS: …*ahem*

TODD: …oh uh… I mean.

STARS: He may have just joined us on team handicapable!

TODD: Yes, but isn’t that a bad thing for the company?

STARS: My checks will still clear. Otherwise it will no longer be “my company”.

The official collapses to the ramp, cradling his surely-broken foot, screaming for help!

Meanwhile, Frances stares at the screaming man… Like, he’s trying to remember if he did that…

When, WHAM, XXXVI catches Frances with a boot to the skull! Frances staggers backward toward the X-Tron!

XXXVI, breathing heavy but eyes sharp, tosses the kendo sticks aside…

TODD: If Frances’s aim was to introduce chaos into this match, it looks like XXXVI thrives in an environment like this! What a miscalculation!

Frances burps, shaking his head woozily near the entrance curtain…

As XXXVI wrenches his arm around Frances’ neck… And whips him onto the metal ramp!

SNAPMARE!

TODD: We’re a little over four minutes into this match and I think that’s the first thing you could call a wrestling move we’ve seen since the bell rung!

STARS: Wrestling moves? In a wrestling match?!?

TODD: What a concept!

STARS: I made this Xtreme rules for a reason. Get that shit outta here!

Frances sits on the ramp, cradling his neck… As XXXVI takes a few steps back… And charges forward!

BASEMENT DROPKICK! Marigold cradles his spine collapsing onto his front!

TODD: This one’s starting to look academic! XXXVI simply outclasses Frances Marigold!

…Frances quasi-consciously sputters on the mat… As XXXVI grabs him by the waistband and drags him back up to his feet…

Waistlock!

GERMAN SUPLEX ONTO THE RAMP!

Frances lands in a drunken pile of denim and bad decisions, rolling over with a dazed smile on his face.

TODD: This is starting to feel inhumane! XXXVI isn’t even out to win, he’s out to hurt Frances Marigold!

STARS: Well, what else is he supposed to do, Todd? Sit on his hands? He can’t win without a referee out here!

The crowd erupts as a second referee emerges from the curtain from the back, flanked by medics pushing a gurney…

TODD: It looks like we have our backup official… AND a medical team to help the first official!

The first official waves them over, desperately trying to hold his obliterated foot together…

Meanwhile, XXXVI picks up Frances by the scruff of his neck…

…BUT!

Running on instinct, Frances shoves XXXVI backwards!

His body goes onto the gurney, which slips out of the first aid team’s hands!

AND ROLLS OFF THE SIDE OF THE RAMP!

TODD: OH MY GOD!

The crowd gasps—

XXXVI goes soaring ten feet through the air, entangled in the gurney, limbs flailing before CRASHING hard to the floor below in a tangle of metal and limbs.

STARS: Frances just YEETED his opponent off the ramp using a medical device!

TODD: Could this be Frances Marigold’s first victory in his XWF career?!? He just has to climb down and pin XXXVI!

Frances teeters at the edge of the ramp, squinting down at the wreckage. He lifts his arms like a symphony conductor gone rogue.

TODD: …Noooooo. He can’t be thinking about…

STARS: I don’t think Frances has ever thought about anything he’s ever done!

Frances reaches into his pocket, grabs the beer he snagged right after the bell rung…

Chugs it down.

And crushes the can against his skull!

TODD: PLEASE DON’T DO IT! OH GOD!

Frances stumbles back a few steps. Breathes in. Then launches himself into the air…

OFF THE STAGE!



The drunken rocker majestically sails through the air!

FRANNIE’S REVENGE!

…

NO!

XXXVI rolls out of the way at the last second!

Frances CRASHES full-body into the metal scaffold and concrete below, bouncing with a horrible smack. His spine jackknifes. He lets out an awful, breathless moan.

STARS: Jeezus CHRIST! Marigold just hit the concrete like a piñata full of expired cough syrup!

TODD: He might have just joined your team handicapable-

STARS: Shut the fuck up, Todd.

XXXVI, barely conscious, barely functional, crawls forward…
He drapes an arm across the limp carcass of Frances Marigold.

The new referee briefly thinks about going down there.

…

Nah…

Remaining up on the ramp where it’s relatively safe, the official kneels cautiously and slaps the steel with authority.]

ONE!

TWO

THREE!

WINNER: XXXVI


The crowd explodes. EMTs rush to both men, but XXXVI raises a shaky fist in the air from the wreckage. Frances lies flat, smiling to himself, as blood pools under his skull… completely unaware of what just happened.

TODD: What an absolute pile of carnage and broken bodies! I don’t think the Athletic Club has seen this kind of barbaric action in quite some time, and I dare the local promotions to try to top this!

STARS: He doesn’t mean that. Todd, repeal your last segment. Don’t dare these kids. They eat Tide Pods for less.

TODD: You’re probably right. Best to leave these things to the professionals, kids.

STARS: Yeah! Sign a contract first. Then come let us kill you under our banner. I get my 6.9 percent cut that way.

TODD: Ugh.

[Image: wireline.png]

BACKSTAGE


The scene opens backstage where Summer is speaking to some of the production staff about her entrance, going over different camera angles. Suddenly some of the staff see someone behind her and silently walk away mid-conversation. Summer raises a brow and slowly turns around only to see none other than James Shark who’s met with a mixed reaction from the fans reacting in the arena.

Shark: “I went out and laid an egg at Rebellion? The fuckin’ nerve on you. You just as fake as them!”

Shark points out towards the arena, eliciting some boos from the audience, Summer rolls her eyes.

Summer: “I call it how I see it.”

Shark: “Yea well you look at that flaccid, little wiener Craig and see… man we don’t know what the fuck you see. Your vision ain’t exactly all good.”

Summer yawns.

Summer: “Done yet? I think that green substance you got injected with at Warfare made you dumber.”

A vein starts to appear on Shark’s forehead as he steps closer to Summer.

Shark: “Listen here you plastic bimbo, I rode with you to the damn hospital. Encouraged the hell outta you whenever you was down about your losses. Offered to CARRY you to success in the tag team division. But you???? You ain’t return shit did you!? Couldn’t even give up some throat. You so mad you got jumped backstage!??? You deserved worse than what you got. I should have took my sweet ass time gettin’ to you. You deserved to get bent over and PENATRATED with that goddamn barbed wire bat.”

Summer’s mouth drops open in disbelief, she instantly frowns and gets right in Shark’s face, chest to chest, showing him she doesn’t fear him. The two of them stare at one another intensely as she looks up at him with neither breaking the stare. They were staring one another down so intensely and close to one another that anyone walking by could get the wrong idea.

Summer: “You know what, James? You’re a liar, manipulator, asshole, piece of trash AND nobody likes you.”

She nods her head towards the arena.

Summer: “Not them. Not me. And certainly not your own family.”

Shark’s eyes go wide with shock and anger at the same time. The two of them keep their eyes locked at one another before Shark quickly throws a straight punch right towards her face. Their’s a HUGE sound of impact but it’s only the sound of his palm hitting the wall as he stops himself right at the last second. Summer had her eyes shut tight, expecting to eat that shot, she slowly opens it and sees him glaring at her with his hand on the wall.

Summer: “You wonder why I kept things professional between us? Take a long look at the mirror.”

Summer ducks underneath his arm and begins to storm off as Shark watches her leave.

[Image: wireline.png]

STARS: Holy fuck.

TODD: That was heavy.

STARS: That was awesome. You go get you some!

TODD: You can’t be serious.

STARS: You’re damn right I am! I’M DECLARING IT THE OFFICIAL START OF SUMMER SZN!

TODD: Let’s… cut to commercial.

[Image: 2YpaDqV.png]

XWF REBELLION '25
FORGET YOUR FOMO - TURNS OUT WE TAPED IT

SIGN UP NOW and Watch the Full Replay of REBELLION for FREE* only on: XWF99.com!

*With a small, one-time, 1,289 month commitment to the XWF X-STREAMing Service™
- Notarized Cashier’s Check and Blood of First Born Required -
*Otherwise it’s $19.99

TODD: Whoops, wrong commercial. Kind of rude to be playing that after what just happened between Shark and Summer…

STARS: Nah, screw that! You wanna find out what Summer was talking about? See who retained and what new champs came out victorious that night? Miss the shocking ending to the PPV? Wanna rewatch for funsies? Pay the man!

TODD: Let’s… just get back to the action.

STARS: Only you could ruin a commercial segment, Todd.

[Image: wireline.png]




A crow caws.

The lights flicker, as the anxiety-inducing first few chords of Dies Irae erupt across the stadium. As all lights center to the top of the stage, creating a path of light down to the ring. Fans erupt into screams, as the Inquisitor's faithful murder whip out their flashlights. The Inquisitor walks out onto the ramp, clad in his leather trench-coat, gloved hands in and full-black getup.

STARS: SENOR INQUISITIONES!

TODD: Jesus.

STARS: It’s pronounced Hey Zeus.

TODD: No. No it’s not. There’s no Spanish Inquisition. It’s just Inquisition!

The eye-rings around his mask glint in the light, and you can almost feel him smile through it.

STARS: Say that to his face, senor!

With a sudden burst, he dashes down the ring, sliding under the third rope. Throwing his arms out to his side, and his head in the air, he breathes in the sweet sound of fear and adoration. His hands jerk to grasp their opposite shoulders, in a self-hug of sorts. Giving himself a quick squeeze, he runs his hands along his shoulders and across his throat like blades before turning to face the entrance way.

TODD: Inquisition looks primed and ready to go here tonight.

STARS: Don’t call it a comeback. Or a redemption arc. Inquisition may be primed, but there’s a Storm. Coming. In. Saint Louis. Missouri!



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. Latoya Hixx follows him to the ring, remaining outside the squared circle to support Razor Blade.

TODD: What a class act.

STARS: Lifetime achievement award winner.

TODD: Gave his American Nightmare belt to the kid in the Blake shirt.

STARS: Who the fuck is Blake?

TODD: Maybe he thinks it’s a Blade shirt.

DING! DING! DING!

The match starts with high velocity offense from Razor Blade, as the "American Nightmare" barrels out of his corner like a bullet from a gun! He's on Inquisition in no time, taking the fight to the masked man. Blade unloads with a flurry of punches and elbows that force Inquisition back against the ropes, then Blade irish whips Inquisition into the ropes and drops him with a shoulder check on the rebound. Inquisition quickly scurries up to his feet, but Razor Blade is there waiting for him. Razor catches Inquisition with a running bulldog, driving both men down to the mat! Latoya Hixx cheers on her teammate outside the ring, getting the crowd involved by leading a "RAZ-OR!" chant.


Razor hooks the leg as the referee drops to make the count!


1!


KICKOUT!

TODD: Quick kickout by Inquisition there.

STARS: I’m surprised that Blake even got a one count there.

TODD: Well, you know that Inquisition promised to unravel the surface-dwellers, including Razor Blade here tonight. He’s not going to go down easy.

STARS: No, I’m legitimately surprised Raisin Blade got a chance to pin this dude’s shoulders to the mat. He moves around the ring like a…

TODD: Sleep paralysis demon?

STARS: gasp…YES!

Inquisition kicks out hard, shoving Razor off with authority. Undeterred, Razor drags him up and whips him hard into the corner, following it up with a punishing clothesline! Inquisition slumps into the corner, and Razor hoists him up for a quick snap suplex back to the center of the ring! Inquisition clutches his lower back as the entire canvas shakes!

STARS: Alright. Full stop.

TODD: What?

STARS: Do I have to give Raisin Blade credit? That snap suplex was sick!

TODD: Well, yeah. The American Nightmare is in peak physical condition. As is his partner at ringside.

STARS: Damn shame, really.

TODD: Why do you say-

STARS: Because-

TODD: No. Nevermind. I don’t want to know.

Razor Blade gets back to his feet quickly, and he tries to drag Inquisition up with him: but the masked figure is too quick! Inquisition sweeps Blade's feet out from under him, causing him to crash back to the mat. Inquisition then charges back towards the ropes. Razor Blade quickly gets back up to his feet, only to be met with a dropkick from Inquisition! Both men fall back to the mat, with the momentum shifting into Inquisition's favor!

TODD: More of those paralysis demon-like movements!

STARS: You think he’s got the pigeons hidden under the ring or something?

TODD: Man, I really don’t know. Inquisition looks like he lives under the ring.

STARS: Fucker is unnerving. That’s for sure. Variety is the spice of our brand, Flod.

TODD: And The American Nightmare is our backbone!

Latoya continues leading crowd chants, but nothing the crowd says seems to help Razor out inside that ring. Inquisition begins picking him apart like a slab of meat. Inquisition delivers a slew of strikes and kicks to his grounded opponent before locking in a headlock on Razor Blade. Inquisition squeezes tight, and it looks like Razor is getting close to the edge of consciousness, with no rope break in sight.

But Latoya Hixx continues leading crowd chants!

And this time...they actually seem to be working!

TODD: The crowd seems to be really getting behind Raisin Blake here. Damnit, now you’ve got me doing it.

STARS: 550ish people packing this Athletic hall, and a good portion of that are kids. So of course, they look up to Blade and Hixx because they share the same grade in elementary school.

TODD: What do you have against nice people?

STARS: …you literally just put the answer in the question.

With the support of the crowd, Razor Blade slowly works his way back to his feet despite the tight headlock. As the crowd chants, stomps, and claps in tune with Latoya Hixx, Razor Blade struggles and fights back to his feet. Then, once both men are standing, Razor Blade runs to the ropes, forcing Inquisition to release the hold and go flying forward! The crowd is on their feet cheering for Blade as Inquisition hits the opposite ropes.

Razor Blade prepares a scoopslam for Inquisition, but the wily coyote has other plans!

Inquisition decks Razor Blade with a lariat that nearly takes his head off!

STARS: Aha! And there goes your momentum you bum.

TODD: That’s not very-

STARS: Say it.

TODD: On second thought. We’ve got to have the American Nightmare Razor Blade and The Storm Layota Hixx teaming up for our next episode of Anarchy. It would be on brand for them to feature on the 4th of July eve celebration!

STARS: I mean, I can put a flag on my hover round. It really don’t mean anything.

TODD: That’s because you don’t represent anyone or anything but yourself.

Latoya Hixx screams bloody murder at ringside as the fans stand there stunned. Razor Blade was finally taking back the momentum, but now, the Inquisition is back in charge! Inquisition delivers another slew of blows to his grounded opponent as Latoya Hixx looks on helplessly, covering her gaping mouth as stands there with a shocked face. Inquisition pulls no punches, beating on his grounded opponent in the most devastating of fashions!

Inquisition surveys the building, getting a sense of the crowd's awe. Inquisition looks down at Razor before turning his head towards Latoya. Inquisition smirks, before he hits the ropes hard, rebounding back....and running right past Razor Blade.....

SUICIDE DIVE TO THE OUTSIDE!

Latoya sees it coming and tries to scramble, but Inquisition is too fast! He soars through the air like a missile and takes her out with brutal precision! Both bodies hit the barricade hard as the crowd pops like crazy, and Inquisition is back on his feet in no time flat.

TODD: Holy guacamole! Did you just see that?

STARS: No one expects the Spanish Inquisition to go flying through the ropes like that!

TODD: …

STARS: Yes, I saw it. I loved it. And now I’m a fan.

TODD: You… had Layota Hixx come out here tonight on purpose, didn’t you?

STARS: …maybe.

TODD: You bastard!

Inquisition quickly climbs up the ringside apron before making his way atop the turnbuckle. Then, Inquisition leaps from the air and back into the ring with a magnificent moonsault! Inquisition gets so much air that he nearly collides with the ceiling- but thankfully he doesn't!

HE JUST COLLIDES WITH RAZOR BLADE!


Inquisition hooks the leg!



1!




2!!!




KICKOUT!!!

STARS: No effin’ way!

TODD: RAZOR BLADE IS STILL IN THIS! HE HAS THE HEART OF A CHAMPION JIMBO!

STARS: I’LL CUT YOU!

Somehow, someway, Razor Blade still has some fight left in him! Inquisition can't believe it, but this crowd can! The crowd once again begins chanting 'RAZ-OR!", this time unprovoked by Latoya: who is still laying flat on the canvas outside the mat!

TODD: No, you won’t. Cause that would qualify me for workman's compensation!

STARS: …fair point.

TODD: You need to be paying attention to the match, just like Inquistion needs to be paying attention to his opponent!

Inquisition slams the mat in frustration as Razor Blade slowly begins to stir. Razor crawls over towards the ropes, but Inquisition stalks him like a predator, just waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Razor Blade uses the ropes to help him get back to his feet, but he's looking dazed and confused. Razor takes a wobbly step away from the ropes as he looks around for Inquisition...but it's too late! Inquisition is already positioned behind Razor Blade, and as Razor takes a few more wobbly steps, Inquisition grabs him from behind!

TODD: The movements are unreal!

Inquisition pulls Razor Blade into Justicia's Cross, a crucifix bomb into a pin! The crowd goes nuts as Inquisition pulls out his big move for the first time live on XWF: Anarchy!

STARS: Raisin has no chance! He just got snatched right up into Justicia’s cross!

TODD: Cover!

The referee makes the count!



1!





2!!






3!!!


WINNER: INQUISITION


TODD: Well, if that’s what Inquisition is capable of, then I think he just put the Anarchy locker room on notice!

STARS: He just put me on notice. I gotta hide all of my valuables. And lock the basement at home.

TODD: I heard you live in a trailer.

STARS: Oh yeah, that’s right. I don’t have a basement. Thank god.

TODD: Layota Hixx is helping Razor Blade back to the back. There’s always next week for them. But for us, there’s always the next match!

[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: “Up next, folks—what a clash of momentum versus malice! Damián Santos, the clever, calculating upstart, versus the raw force of nature known as Mister Oz!”



The sound of a record screeching to a halt echoes around the arena as Kendrick Lamar's voice begins to boom through the PA system.

"NOBODY PRAY FOR ME!"

"IT BEEN THAT DAY FOR ME!"

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAY- YEAH! YEAH!"

HUMBLE begins to play in full as Damián Santos bursts out through the camera with a full head of steam, talking shit to the camera before posing with vigor. He looks ahead to the ring, letting a smile spread on his face as he walks down to the ring, shadow boxing as he does so to keep himself focused.

TODD: Damián Santos had a less than stellar debut at Rebellion… Against Doctor Holly Cambric, he was jabbed with a mysterious syringe moments after the bell rung… And from there, it was academic.

STARS: You only get one chance to make a first impression with your audience, Todd, and young Damián did not nail his. Damn these kids and their designer drug addictions.

TODD: But, this is his first match on Anarchy! And you know what they say, Jimmy! Any given Thursday, with the right plan and execution, you can pick up a big win! And he’s not a drug addict. He was poisoned.

STARS: You expect me to believe that?

TODD: It happened live in front of 70 thousand people!

STARS: You expect me to believe them?

Damián rolls under the bottom rope to come into the ring, finding the far turnbuckle as he climbs upwards to soak in the boos. He finds the nearby camera, flexing his muscles again before hopping down into the ring. He lets the referee pat him down for any weapons, nodding to them before giving them a friendly reminder to be sure to do the same to his opponent before the match begins.



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 the Rebellion pre-show, Oz looked absolutely DOMINANT at Rebellion! After a close back-and-forth fight with Inquisition at MayDay, Oz went to town on the bizarrely violent and violently bizarre creature and won their rematch in exacting fashion!

STARS: And you know what I think inspired that rage? That focus? FURY! Oz has been one of the monsters of the XWF for years and he gets shoved onto the pre-show! I don’t know who made that error but Oz punished Inquisition for it at Rebellion… And he might not be done doling out punishment…

TODD: Look out, Damián!

As Oz slides into the ring, Santos starts pointing and demanding the official check him for weapons1

STARS: Santos clearly learned his lesson from last time! Doctor Holly Cambric snuck in a weapon for his match, and he’s not letting that happen twice!

TODD: Now you’re admitting it?

STARS: Admitting what?

TODD: That Holly drugged Santos?

STARS: No, she didn’t. If he wasn’t so drunk on bath bombs or whatever, Doctor Holly wouldn’t have been able to attack him with that syringe!

TODD: …

…The official approaches Oz….

Who stares ominously down at the meek man in black-and-white stripes… Before offering his wrists for inspection…

The entire time the official inspects Oz though… Oz is staring daggers at Santos! Santos bobs lightly from foot to foot. His lips are pursed in measured breath. His eyes dart to Oz’s legs—scanning, strategizing.

TODD: I think Oz feels like Santos may have just impugned on his honor as a competitor by suggesting he’d need to bring a weapon to the ring…

Satisfied that their search turned up nothing, the official signals to the timekeeper!

MISTER OZ
- vs -
DAMIÀN SANTOS
Singles Match


The moment the bell rings, Damián lunges forward suddenly with a quick low kick, ker-ACKING against Oz’s thigh!

TODD: Oh my! Santos typically describes himself as a counter-attacker but he’s starting out swinging!

STARS: I think Dame knows if he lets Oz take a swing and it comes anywhere close to connecting? This match ain’t gonna last long!

Oz’s hand shoots to cover his thigh, backing up a step… Santos follows up with a kick to Oz’s side… Oz’s hand shoots to cover there… But by then Santos has also circled to take Oz’s backside, stomping down on his calf!

TODD: Santos’ strikes are precise and tactical—he’s trying to take out Oz’s base early!

STARS: You wanna bring down the biggest redwood in the forest? It’s gonna take a lot of strikes! But this redwood can strike back, Druggie Dame!

TODD: He’s not a drug addict!

STARS: How do you know?

While Oz’s jaw flexes as Santos’ kicks land, his eyes never flinch. His massive body barely shifts with each blow.

Oz delivers a backfist!

…That Santos narrowly ducks under! Santos tries to surprise Oz by zooming from behind back to Oz’s front and launching another kick to Oz’s obliques…

…But this time, Oz catches Santos’ boot!

TODD: Uh oh!

Damián’s eyes widen. He hops on one foot, trying to yank his leg from Oz’s grip…

But Oz YANKS Santos forward…

And LEVELS him with a SHOULDER BLOCK!

Santos goes flipping end-over-end…. twice!

TODD: Whoa! What an impact! Oz hit Damián like a freight train!

STARS: Oz hit him like the fifteenth puff of canned air!

TODD: …

STARS: Not that I would know.

Damián lays on the mat, wincing, clutching his ribs. His head rolls sideways to locate Mister Oz—too late. Oz yanks him up by the wrist like he’s a paperweight!

…Santos’ face contorts in shock… As Oz’s expression is tight with the tension of unspoken rage.

Oz pauses, staring down, putting the fear of GOD in Santos…

Before exploding into action, scooping Santos in a front-facelock!

He heaves him into the air, in suplex position…
…

Hoooooooooooolds him aloft!

…

Oz actually executes a knee-bend, while holding Santos perfectly vertical in the air!

TODD: Oh my God! Oz is doing squats mid-suplexing Damián Santos!

STARS: That’s right OZZY, get your workout in!

Damián’s face contorts midair—shock fading into panic, as Oz extends his body out of the squat.

…

…Aaaaaaaaaaaaand!

WHAM!

Like a jackhammer plowing into concrete, Oz PLANTS Santos into the mat!

Delayed Vertical Suplex!

TODD: The strength of Mister Oz! The sheer power! That move was a STATEMENT!

STARS: And the statement is: You should’ve put me on the damn main card!

TODD: He’s got a point.

…Damián groans, rolling to the ropes, desperation painting his face in sweat and grit. He grabs the bottom rope like a lifeline, and as Oz approaches again, once more gripping Santos by the scruff of the neck…

But this time, Santos jabs his thumb in Oz’s eye! Lightning-quick!

Oz covers his face, staggering back! As the crowd boos, the official squints… having missed the illegal maneuver that took place right in front of him!

TODD: Santos calls himself the heeliest heel to ever heel! He masterfully blurred that eye poke in with a defensive reach!

STARS: Hey, don’t knock it! That’s guerrilla marketing—get eyes on you by attacking eyes! Hurts the Neilson ratings a bit, but the kids brain is like the fried egg in that drug commercial.

TODD: The Neilson ratings system does not work like that!

Oz staggers for a beat, blinking rapidly. Damián seizes the opening—he runs the ropes and leaps…
CROSSBODY!
…
NO! Oz catches Santos in midair!

TODD: Oh dear! Santos had a brief window of opportunity, but he’s once again wound up in No Man’s Land!

STARS: At this point, I think anywhere inside a ring that Mister Oz is also in? Is No Man’s Land! Perhaps Druggy Dame should take some LSD or something and escape to the metaphysical realm while he still can. Cause his physical ass belongs to Oz.

TODD: …

Damián’s eyes go wide—he kicks furiously, slapping at Oz’s head, desperately doing anything to escape...

But Oz gorilla presses Santos above his head in one fluid motion!

…

THEN DRIVES HIM DOWN ONTO OZ’S EXTENDED KNEE!

Gorilla Press GUTBUSTER!

TODD: WOW! What a maneuver!

STARS: That hurt just looking at it! It’s like a twelve step program all at once!

Santos rebounds off Oz’s knee, cradling his gut, struggling to breathe!

Oz raises an arm to the crowd and they screeeeeeeeeam for Mister Oz!

Damián now crawls to a corner, breathing ragged, wiping blood from his mouth. His face is a mess of pain and calculation.

Oz drops his arms… drawing a thumb across his throat!

TODD: Oz signalling that he’s ready to put Santos out of his misery!

Oz bends down over the broken Santos, going to grip him by the shoulders…

…

But Santos scrambles, crawling between Oz’s legs!

TODD: Unbelievable! Santos isn’t done yet!

STARS: Done fighting? Or done trying to survive?

Once he’s behind Oz, Santos reaches up, going for a schoolboy!

TODD: Santos has said he’s got the best schoolboy in the business! On the independent circuit, he’s stolen many, many matches with that schoolboy!

…

Here it comes…

…

Santos tugs with all his might…

…

Nope. Oz is a brick wall. Absolutely unmovable.

TODD: …Miscalculation by Santos. He can’t even budge Oz!

STARS: It’s like trying to roll a marble pillar! It ain’t happening! I don’t care how many drugs you’re on!

TODD: He’s not on drugs, damnit!

Oz looks down, insulted. Damián swallows hard, caught frozen in his foolish attempt. The crowd’s laughter stings.

Oz steps back, letting Damián fall onto his own back. He glares, then kneels beside the young man, who is now trembling beneath him. Damián raises a hand in pleading instinct.

Oz grabs him by the jaw.

Damián’s eyes dart—left, right—looking for escape.

Too late!

Oz jams his gloved fingers into Damián’s mouth and throat with a violent precision!

I FAILED YOU!

His eyes bulge with righteous fury. Damián thrashes, arms flailing—

TODD: I Failed You! It’s locked in! The Mandible Claw!

STARS: Oh my god—he’s not just making a statement, he’s checking this kid’s uvula for residue!

TODD: I… can’t even.

Damián’s legs kick desperately as Oz lowers him to the mat…

“I’m sorry…”

…The kicks begin to slow…

“I’m sorry…”

…Santos’ hands fall limp.

The official calls for the bell!

WINNER: MISTER OZ


Oz slowly releases the hold. His breathing is deep, methodical. He rises with slow dignity, standing tall over Damián's body. He doesn’t gloat. He doesn’t speak.

He stares into the hard camera—eyes burning with purpose.

STARS: That is the man who got bumped to the pre-show?! Well, I can PROMISE you, in the Jimmy Stars era of Anarchy, Oz will be getting the star treatment!

TODD: Agreed! Another absolutely dominating performance by Mister Oz! Keep up the amazing work, you machine.

STARS:  And Damian will be getting drug tested! That was a clear oversight on my part.

TODD: UGH.

STARS: It’s only because I care, Larry.

TODD: IT’S TODD!

[Image: wireline.png]

A BRIEF INTERMISSION


[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: Pardon me for my earlier outburst. Welcome back to XWF Anarchy. As many of you know, just 19 days ago at XWF Rebellion, our longtime color-commentator, and my dear friend BAMA T called his last match in XWF as the two of us had the pleasure of witnessing a THRILLER between King Justin York and the Alleged Micheal Graves.

STARS: ….

Jimmy appears to be lost for words in this emotional moment. That, or he’s eating crackers without trying to look like he’s eating crackers.

There’s crumbs on the hoveround.

TODD: I know it’s tough, Jimmy. But tonight, we’re taking the photographs… the still frames in our minds…. and we’re hanging them on a self in good health and good time.

So join us, as we take a trip down memory lane, and pay tribute to one of the greatest to ever call a match in this booth!

There's a hush over the crowd as a montage begins on the ANARCHOTron

TODD: …

STARS: …well that’s what I’m calling it…

TODD: Shh!



As the melancholy melodies of Green Day seep through the sound system, we hear:

OH, BAAAABY!

[Image: MiQI1iw.png]


Eliciting a huge pop from the crowd as the video reel plays clips of the one, the only, BAMA T. and his trusted companion, Sassafras.

We see Bama smiling, feeding Sass treats from his letterman jacket.

We see Bama waving to the crowd, and then a shot of him making a funny face, first to Vinnie Lane, then the image morphs into Bama making the same face at Todd Moschitti.


Vinnie Lane: "AI versus a sentient Squirrel! Only on Anarchy, dude!"

Bama: "It would actually be sapient, baby! Since Squirrel 41 can speak and appears to work within some kind of hive mind. Ya see Vinnie!-


Vinnie Lane: “Jamaican Jimmy just barely kicked out!”

Bama: “His goose is cooked…mon!”


SCREE SCREE SCREE SCREE

Bama: "Dang, baby, what’s that sound?!"

Vinnie Lane: "I don’t know but it HURTS, dude!"

SCREE SCREE SCREE SCREE

Bama: "It’s them Bingo Twins, dawg."

Indeed, Da Bing Bong Twinzz are making their way to the ring…


[Image: xpGRmOc.png]



We go to the ring where Alex Kincaid is already standing in one corner.

Bama: "Never a good sign when you’re already in the ring.”

Vinnie Lane: "I don’t even know who this guy is!”


We see a shot of Bama announcing his retirement, the crowd chanting “BAM-A! BAM-A!” as Bama holds back tears.


Vinnie Lane: “Holy crap! Sid just won the Anarchy Championship!”!


Bama: “Centurion can’t believe it! He was watching from the top of the ramp and just stormed off behind the curtain! WOW!”


BAMA T: "Sean Parker showed incredible skill and determination tonight. A well-deserved victory for the new Anarchy Champion! And before we go, I wanna say Merry Christmas to all our fans out there! Keep the spirit alive, baby!"

TODD: "Bama, remember, we've got a diverse audience celebrating all sorts of holidays this season. So, from all of us here at ANARCHY, Happy Holidays to everyone, no matter what you're celebrating!"

BAMA T: "You're right, Todd. Happy Holidays to everyone! Stay safe and enjoy the festivities!"


The video ends on a still frame of Bama, clutching Sassafras in one arm, and raising his other in the air with a closed fist.

TODD: …uhm *choking* ...hrm *sniffling* ...let’s get back to the… action..

[Image: wireline.png]



"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.

TODD: Larry Tact! Former Television champion and reigning star of the month!

STARS: Bastard making millions off of his Tactalizing Self-Help Program. Wouldn’t let me manage the logistics for a small cut.

TODD: Let me guess. 6.9 percent?

STARS: How did you…?

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.



The honeyed rasp of Atara's voice blares over the facility's PA in unison with those words appearing on the multitude of screens and displays littering the arena.

HELLO DOVES

The crowd pops and gets to their feet shouting in near total unison a single word.

OPA!

TODD:  Atara Raven! Wrestling industry royalty! Last time we saw her in an Anarchy ring, she won the X-Treme title from Dominick Strife, who we all thought was un-TOUCHABLE on Anarchy!

STARS: As Dom’s manager, let me assure you that that was a fluke and ninety-nine times out of one-hundred, Dom takes that match. But because Dom not only disobeyed me, but strayed from my path, he kinda had that one coming. Dumb kid.

TODD: That’s not very nice… wait. You’re not very nice.

STARS: Thank you. With that being said, Atara is capable of some incredible things when you underestimate her. I wonder if she needs a manager.

TODD: You’re the General Manager of our brand!

STARS: Oh, right.

Arena lights start to pulse in time with the music and multiple vertical streams of pyro erupt across the front of stage. Strutting with purpose Atara emerges from the back taking spot centerstage atop the ramp. Posing for the camera, a wink and kiss is given to the viewers at home.

Grunge walking to the ringsteps, she climbs and stops at the top to posture again for her adoring public. Hand on her hip, the Grecian moves to the middle of the apron to blows a final kiss to the camera and enters the ring through the middle rope.


LARRY TACT
- vs -
ATARA RAVEN

Singles


The match-up between these two contrasting in-ring ideologies of Atty and Tact starts off with a nice showing of wrestling prowess. Both incredibly seasoned tacticians trade off with various grapples, lock ups and light slams.

TODD: OH! Atara Raven showing her in ring acumen here early. Flipping out of Tact’s collar and elbow, and bringing the big man down with a fireman's carry slam.

STARS: Does it look good? Sure. But is it effective? I’d beg to differ. Atara Raven might have all of the experience in the world… but Tact might have even more. It’s going to take a lot more than some fancy rasslin’ moves to put down Tact.

TODD: You mean like Aur-

STARS: Don’t you DARE say her FUCKING NAME.

TODD: Oh, touched a nerve, did I?

STARS: Tact. Tact tact tact tact tact.

TODD: So now you’re just going to repeat Larry’s name like a child.

STARS: You could talk about Atara Raven, you know, the Greek Goddess gracing you with her presence right here, right now, tonight?!

After Atty tries wearing Tact down with a headlock, the big man powers through, showing an incredible feat of strength by muscling Atty up and into a running powerslam. Her body thrashes off the mat.

TODD: That was one stiff powerslam there, Jimmy. Larry is looking to take control here.

STARS: It’s Mister Stars to you, you fuck.

TODD: You said earlier I could call you Jimmy.

STARS: I lied.

TODD: Okay Jimmy.

STARS: Are you ready to give me my due now, Todd? I know you’re not used to sitting with someone who actually has an eye for pro wrestling…

TODD: I don’t really appreciate you taking shots at Bama that way.

STARS: Shots? Heh… Nothing I say is a “Shot” I’m calling balls and strikes out here, bucko.

TODD: I haven’t seen any balls from you, Jimmy.

STARS: Ooh, we’re going to make a great team, I just know it.

Tact with the cover!


1!



2!!



ATTY STAYS ALIVE!

TODD: You’re out here being a little bitch. And yet there’s the Atara Raven we all know and love, showing true grit out there in the ring. Perhaps you could take a lesson sometime?

STARS: True Grit was a fictional western starring John Wayne. True Tact is what we’re watching here which is a non-fictional beat down of Atara, by the Tactilizing one!

TODD: But I thought you said Atara was a Goddess-

STARS: Changed my mind! It happens, Brod!

Tact seizes full control of the match. He hits a gut wrench suplex, a snap powerbomb, and a full nelson throw into the corner, where he begins ramming Atty over and over, shoulder to gut until she plops on her rear.

TODD: Look… say what you will, but this is Atara’s first time back in an XWF ring in months, and right now Tact, our star of the month, is clearly firing on all cylinders.

STARS: Months you say? Hmmm… hasn’t been long enough to look this bad.

TODD: You know, it wasn’t too long ago when the narrative around Larry Tact was about him shaking off rust and getting acclimated to the XWF’s pace. While he’s clearly done that now, make no mistake… Atty WILL learn from this, and she will get better… she always does.

STARS: *yawns* sorry, were you saying something?

After stomping a mudhole in Atty, Tact drags her limb body out of the corner. He climbs the turnbuckle…

TODD: Uh oh! Tact isn’t really a high-flyer!

STARS: The man can afford the risk here, Todd’o… CLEARLY!

He dives from the top rope with…



THE DIVE TO BLUE ELBOW DROP!!!!!!!!









— AND ATTY ROLLS OUT OF THE WAY!!!!

TODD: Clearly not!

STARS: Whatever… let’s just hope Larry didn’t break a hip.
   

Tact slams against the mat, and Atty leaps to her feet.

She trunks to the crowd and starts firing them up with an OPA chant. This gym is clearly behind the Aphrodite Incarnate. She belly dances, waiting for Tact to get to his feet, and just when he does?

A RUNNING HIP ATTACK!


And before he can fall?



GERMAN SUPLEX!



She bridges it into a pinfall!



1!







2!!








TACT ESCAPES!


TODD: Oh my, Atty nearly won this thing!

STARS: Bahhh… Never had a doubt.

TODD: Sure you did!

STARS: …

With Tact reeling, Atty again finds herself standing, clapping, chanting, dancing, DOVING UP HER POWERS!

TODD: She’s feeding off the crowd here, this could be dangerous!!


Tact gets to his feet, and Atty rushes in…




JUDGEMENT FROM PARIS KNEE STRIKE!!!!!








IS DODGED!




TACT SCOOPS ATTY UP ON HIS SHOULDERS AND INTO A TORTURE RACK!

STARS: Dangerous, indeed!



SIT OUT POWERBOMB!


TODD: TACTILIZER! TACTILIZER!

STARS: Calm down, dude. This is elementary.


Tact hooks the leg…




1!







2!!






3!!!


WINNER - LARRY TACT!


TODD: I’ve gotta hand it to you this time, Jimmy. You were right. Nothing was stopping our Star of the Month tonight. Larry Tact is on a roll!

STARS: Could you compliment me with something original, Todd? I hear things like ‘you were right’ and ‘good call’ and ‘damn you really know your stuff’ all of the time. Be courteous, will ya? Besides, Captain Future told me this would happen.

TODD: …

STARS: What?

TODD: You son of a-

The show fades to commercial as the ref raises Tact’s arm in the air.

[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: Folks, this next match will be a sight to behold! These two competitors have never faced off before, literally anything could happen!



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.

STARS: ‘Spoiled’ Summer Page! Thoroughly marketable! And quasi-attached to former Universal champion, James Shark! What an asset!

TODD: But that friendship with James Shark caused Charlie Nickles to attack Summer with a barbed wire bat before Rebellion! We’re happy to see Summer back in the ring, but after an experience like that, is she ready?

STARS: Whaddya talking about, Todd? Of course, she’s ready! It’s Summer SZN! Look at her! She can’t wait to compete for the best show in the XWF’s entertainment empire!

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.

TODD: Well, Summer is one of the best on Anarchy’s roster! To date, she has been undefeated in non-title matches for over one year! An-



TODD: Wait, what?!? Charlie Nickles! He’s not competing until the main event!

STARS: This is what makes Thursday must-see TV! Anything can happen! It’s ANARCHY! The Universal champion could’ve killed Summer last show… and now he’s coming to finish the job!

…Inside the ring, Summer’s face turns to a furious scowl… She takes a fighting stance, ready to swing!

A ghoulish figure in a Demos mask lumbers out onto the ramp with a hideous scowl on his face to a mixed reaction from the crowd.

TODD: I can’t believe it! It’s…

…

TODD: Wait. That’s not Charlie.

STARS: Not unless he’s gotten six inches shorter since Warfare.

Wearing a false beard designed to look scraggly and unkempt like the Nickleman… And sporting Nickles’ trademark trackpants-based outfit… It’s Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing!

TODD: It’s Sir Lionel! What the hell’s he doing dressed like the Universal champion?

STARS: …I’m receiving word from my sources that… apparently, he considers this part of his media tour? To promote his appearance playing the part of Charlie Nickles in the Anarchy champion’s promo this week!

TODD: …What? He’s promoting a promo that already dropped?

Sir Lionel eerily marches down the ramp, perfectly recreating the mannerisms of the Nickleman…

(though he does allow himself a wink to the camera as he passes… as this message flashes across the screen)

PRESENTED FOR YOUR AWARD SEASON CONSIDERATION


…Inside the ring, Summer’s face turns to a furious scowl…

TODD: Oh dear… it looks like one person isn’t a fan of Sir Lionel’s method acting… and that’s Summer Page!

Sir Lionel hop-steps up the ramp, before stopping on the second step and delivering a trademark Nickleman sneer… before raising his hands…

”BANG-BANG!” He delivers Charlie’s signature gesture, in a surprisingly accurate impression of a resident of Steubenville, Ohio!

The crowd is half-horrified, half-howling with laughter, as Lionel finishes clambering up the steps and through the ropes

TODD: Well, Sir Lionel, while he seems to aim to win an award for his acting performances, he hasn’t won many matches since joining the XWF roster… Perhaps he thinks these mind games will help him end Summer Page’s undefea-

The moment Pennyfarthing enters the ring, Page jumps him!

TODD: Whoa! Summer not taking kindly to Lionel’s acting job and she’s giving him criticisms… with her fists!

The official, flustered by this, signals for the bell to ring!

DING DING!

SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
SIR LIONEL PENNYFARTHING
Singles Match


STARS: If Pennyfarthing’s aim was to exploit Page’s recent trauma… It looks like all it did was piss Page off!

The usually more technically-minded Page pulls Lionel’s tracksuit jacket over his head like a hockey player and starts hammering him with punches to the gut!

The official finally steps up to break it up…

STARS: There ya go, ref! Step in! Sir Lionel wasn’t even ready, he didn’t even get a chance to monologue!

Sir Lionel meekly mews, cradling his protruding gut in the corner… The official asks if he’s ready to be-

Summer grabs Sir Lionel the arm he’s cradling to his chest and pulls him forward!

Lou Thesz Press!

TODD: Wow! We’ve seen Page get aggressive in the ring, but she is absolutely on a TEAR tonight!

Lionel’s eyes bulge with surprise as his back hits the mat… His beard-wig comes askew, as Summer mounts him, fists flying.

WHAM! WHAM! Each punch is punctuated by a scream of catharsis and fury.

TODD: Wow! Summer Page doesn't just want to beat Sir Lionel—she wants to erase the memory of the man he's portraying!

Sir Lionel flails theatrically, trying to shield his face with exaggerated flops of his arms, limbs wriggling like a man caught in a Shakespearean tempest!

“Unhand me, you wretched wench! Tis but a performance!”

STARS: Ooooh, sounds like Lionel just broke character… What will the Academy think of that?!?

Summer rips him up by the lapels of his Nickleman tracksuit, before whipping him into the ropes, her arms moving with tight, purposeful snaps!

Lionel staggers back, still halfway in character, arms flung wide like he’s delivering Hamlet’s soliloquy as he dashes across the ring…

Summer executes a perfectly-timed standing switch, wrapping her arms around Lionel just as he passes…

AND RIPPING HIM BACKWARDS AGAINST THE MAT!

Snap German Suplex WITH AUTHORITY!

TODD: Wow! Incredible power on display by Summer Page!

The official drops to count!

1!

2!

THR-NO!

Lionel kicks out!

TODD: Lionel kicks out?!? I can’t believe he wants this match to continue!

STARS: Lionel’s an addict for stagetime! He may not understand wrestling, but he gets that when the three-count happens, he’s done performing for the night!

Summer kips up, her face locked in calm fury now. She spins with fluid precision… as Lionel, cradling his head, gingerly rises up, bending forward…

WHAM! Summer nails a High Knee to Lionel’s jaw!

TODD: Summer is not letting up for one second on Sir Lionel! Pennyfarthing is totally outmatched here!

Lionel reels back off Summer’s knee, spinning on his heels and flopping like he’s been shot—landing back against the ropes, cradling his chest… as if ready to deliver a death monologue…

But Summer doesn’t give him the opportunity! She dives forward for a crossbody against the ropes!

…

BUT LIONEL DUCKS IT!

Summer goes chest first into the ropes, her arm tangling! She’s trapped!

TODD: Wow! If you asked me before this match if Lionel was a quick guy, I would have said no! But somehow he had the intuition and wherewithal to dodge Summer’s attack!

STARS: You know what they say, Todd! Acting is reacting!

Summer gives a brief, mocking smirk, as if to say “This is the big threat?” She bounces off the ropes with ease, springboards into a Tornado DDT, Lionel’s cravat flapping like a white flag mid-spin.

Lionel tumbles forward to the center of the ring… his face twists into a wild, desperate inspiration. He scrambles around… and sees Summer trapped…

…He smiles insidiously.

Lionel’s tongue extends outward, as he taps into his thespian spirit to channel Charlie Nickles’ mania!

…Summer sees him from the corner of her eye… And furiously tries to free herself from the tangled ropes…

TODD: Summer’s a sitting duck! This CAN’T be how Summer’s undefeated streak ends, can it?

STARS: Hey, Genghis Khan died falling off his horse… You don’t get to pick how a reign of dominance ends! And Summer’s might end tonight! To Lionel Pennyfarthing AS Charlie Nickles!

Lionel creeps behind Summer, feeling the crowd buzz for the absurdity, before throwing up finger guns and yelling…

“BANG BANG!”

Then, suddenly serious, Pennyfarthing hooks both Summer’s arms…

TODD: There’s NO WAY! Lionel’s going for the Devil Hook Drop!

STARS: Charlie Nickles’ finishing move!

Lionel snarls with evil intent in his eyes!


DEVIL HOOK DROP!


…


IS COUNTERED!

Page twists out of the hook!

Lionel looks shocked, like he hadn’t read to this part in the script…

WHAM! Boot to the gut from Page to Pennyfarthing!

Summer wraps Lionel in a front facelock!

TODD: Summer going for a finish over her own!

Summer lifts Pennyfarthing…

Bridges!

PURE PERFECTION! (Perfect-Plex!)

TODD: Summer calls that move Pure Perfection!

STARS: And there ain’t no move in wrestling with a name that describes itself better, Todd.

Summer holds the bridge!

The official counts!

1!

2!

THREE!

WINNER: SUMMER PAGE


TODD: What a dominant performance by Summer Page! She recently celebrated her one-year anniversary as an Anarchy superstar, and she remains undefeated in non-title matches!

STARS: But more than that, Todd! She created INTEREST! She made clear that she’s got ANIMOSITY for Charlie Nickles! If she… and Charlie… AND James Shark! Are all going to keep making Anarchy appearances! That’s a match, tinder and dynamite all packed together! And you can watch it detonate live by staying tuned!

Summer sits up slowly, her chest heaving, her expression unreadable—part vindicated, part exhausted. She stares down at Lionel, now sprawled on the mat with his fake mustache sliding halfway off his face, mouthing “Brava… brava…” through a woozy daze.

She stands, brushing her hair from her face, raising one fist in victory.

And with that—no posing, no posturing—she leaves.

TODD: Well, Lionel may be the first man to get an Oscar for appearing in a wrestling promo, but he didn’t get the win tonight!

STARS: Nor did he make friends with Summer Page!

As Summer exits the ring, Lionel lifts a hand skyward from the mat.

“Is this… not… a stage divine?”

The crowd laughs and applauds his curtain call as he collapses onto his back like a possum feigning death.

STARS: Godspeed, Sir Pennyfarthing. Whatever the fuck a Pennyfarthing is.

TODD: Ugh.

STARS: Hey, listen, forget the weird dude. Summer SZN is continuing on her streak of being undefeated in title matches, yet, suspiciously unvictorious any time the gold is on the line. It makes one have to wonder, will her next opportunity break the trend.

TODD: Are you saying that Summer is in line for another title opportunity?

STARS: All I’m saying is performances like this aren’t hurting her chances.

The ref raises Summer’s arm….

But then…


BLACKOUT

The fans are confused, and are wondering, a few murmurs can be heard.

Then…




Taylor Swift’s ‘SHAKE IT OFF’ blares through the darkness in the gym.

TODD: Jimmy, is… is this….

STARS: The one person on the roster with a Taylor Swift song?

The lights turn back on and a robed figure is standing in front of an exhausted Summer Page. While surrounding the ring, a couple dozen other robed figures.

Summer stumbles back in shock as…



MARISOL VILARO REMOVES HER HOOD


TODD: OH MY GOD, JIMMY!

STARS: …oh my god.

TODD: SUMMER’S OLDEST RIVAL IN THE XWF, MARISOL VILARO IS HERE!!!!!

Summer stumbles backward, heading for the rope, but looks out to see all of the VILAROFIT cultists surrounding the ring, by the time she looks back…


IT’S TOO LATE!


Mari grabs her wrist, twists her in, puts a boot on her jaw and…



TODD: VILAROFIT FACIAL!!!!!!!


Summer falls lifelessly to the mat…


The satisfied customers, or cultists, of VilaroFit slide under the ropes by the many… stomping Summer Page while Mari, callously turns away, and smiles for the camera.

“Don’t you forget it, world… Anarchy is MY show.”

The scene fades to black as officials rush down to the ring trying to help Summer while Mari just winks, and flexes her finely toned arms.

We cut to commercial.

[Image: wireline.png]

BACKSTAGE


When we return, The B.O.B. locker room is, well, still around somehow. God knows if they are waiting to call their chickens to roost. Inside, we see TNGB. Thunder Knuckles is sipping on a Bud Light, watching playback of Anarchy. Bobby Bourbon is seen playing with his son, with whom he shares legal guardianship with Mark Flynn, the North Korean War Baby, aka Chevy.

”Dude, you can't bring that baby to the ring, we already talked about it.”

Bobby rolls his eyes but keeps his attention on Chevy.

”I know, but I do have that armored titanium chest protector baby carrier that would let me do a body splash with my son, just imagine bro, the combined might of me and an infant.”

Bobby points to some contraption on the ground that looks like what he was describing. It's gunmetal black and has a lot of straps.

”Bobby, we need to do better than combine our strength with a baby. Besides you can be a mac for your kid later.”

”Not mac, Brother Knuckles, a mech, as in a big walking robotic suit of armor like as seen across pop culture from films like Pacific Rim or Avatar, shows such as Mighty Morphin Power Rangers, games like Starcraft or Mech Warrior, or cult classic Robot Jox.”

”They sound crazy.”

”We've piloted one.”

Bobby holds up a set of keys, and presses an alarm check button. Outside the arena, parked beside TK's brand new Camaro, is the hundred foot tall Bastardtron, complete with laser destructor cannon and battle fist attachments. Back indoors, Mark Flynn has entered the B.O.B. locker room. TK looks up at him incredulously.

”The fuck do you want?”

Mark stares daggers back at TK.

”He’s here for Chevy. Mark’s his other dad.”

”Chevy? Like Chevy Chase?”

”Or Chevy Silverado, that's a cool name.”

Mark shakes his head in disbelief.

”WE will talk about that LATER.”

“Your match is up next, and I told you I don't want OUR son ringside.”

”Thank fuck. We agree on something.”

”Fine, but I don't want our son anywhere around Michael Graves! That dude is seriously creepy, and if I find out he's laid one finger on our little boy I will grind him up into a fine paste and he'll be found through several septic tanks.”

Mark’s eyes go wide as he draws a long slow breath, as though some brilliant plan he'd had was on the cusp of backfiring catastrophically.

”I want you to use the baby carrier I designed.”

Mark turns and attempts to lift the reinforced titanium baby carrier Bobby designed.

”Christ on a cracker, how much does this even weigh?”

”It’s 250 pounds of reinforced titanium.”

”You expect me to wear this?”

”Well strong daddy can.”

The North Korean War Baby beckons towards both Bobby and Mark.

”What is it pal?”

The Wee Baby NK starts moving his jaws, making sounds.

”He’s trying to say something! What is it buddy? Can you say dada?”

”Can you say proletariat?”

The baby leans forward, looks up at his dads, and live on Anarchy, utters his first word.

“Fuck.”

Bobby looks at Mark with frustration. Mark gestures back to Bobby with matching energy. TK laughs. Mark rolls his eyes, having come to the same conclusion as Bobby, who has begun scratching his head sheepishly.

“FUCK!”

The North Korean War Baby laughs and claps, finally using people words for the first time.

”How hard have we failed as parents?”

”This will be fine.”

[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: Folks, we have our title match of the night and this one is a doozy!

STARS: Absolutely, Todd. The Anarchy tag division is where the XWF’s best tag-teams do battle! In fact, some day, you mark my words, they’re going to rename the Anarchy Tags… the Tag Titles! And the current Tag Titles will become the Warfare Tag Titles!

TODD: …I say this as an Anarchy employee. I sincerely doubt that will happen.



We see the X-Tron come to life with the words THUGS in red font, and smoke comes out of the stage and the camera sees Tommy coming out first trash talking to the camera, then JB follows behind as he raises his fist in the air as they walk down to the ring. At the ramp area, Tommy and JB smack talk some people, and they both climb to the ring and enter it and bask in the mixed reactions as their theme cuts off.[/font]

TODD: The THUGS looked absolutely DOMINANT at Rebellion! Through a few dirty tricks and third man tactics, they absolutely humiliated American Storm, securing their status as #1 contenders to the Anarchy Tag Titles!

STARS: And I had my guys watch through old tapes… (which you, the viewer, can watch on the XWF network)... Last time, the THUGS and TNGB met on Anarchy? The THUGS came out on top!

TODD: Wild but true, Jimmy! Can the THUGS pull off the upset of the century twice?

The entirely epic XTron video of TNGB takes over the arena as the lights dim. A spotlight highlights the ramp, and Thunder Knuckles walks out onto the entrance ramp, hyped and ready to fight, pointing out into the crowd. Behind him, Bobby Bourbon deliberately walks out and stops, also pointing out into the crowd. Both men glance at each other and return their attention to the ring, delivering a no-look fistbump, then in unison point into the ring. The crowd sings along with the song.

*ASSHOLE, DIRTBAG, NO GOOD BASTARDS!*stomp stomp*

TODD: I bet Them No Good Bastards wish Rebellion had gone as well for them as it went for The Thugs! They’re first Anarchy tags defense was a loss against Scoops McGeeGee… if they hadn’t gotten themselves intentionally disqualified, they might have lost those tag belts!

STARS: Here’s the thing about teams like Them No Good Bastards, Todd… They’re most dangerous coming off a loss. They’ve tuned their game! They’ve spot-checked their strategies!

TODD: I don’t disagree, Jimmy! But, The THUGS looked like a well-oiled machine at Rebellion! Can the Bastards turn around a victory after their recent defeat?!?

TK slides into the ring and gets up onto a knee, beckoning the crowd as Bobby climbs the steps and enters the ring behind him. TK stands and appeals to the crowd as Bobby raises his arms at 45-degree angles.

Referee N. Sertname looks to both corners to see the legal man, seeing TK and JB staring down from across one another, John psyching himself up for the war he views in front of him, stretching his arms out as he leans towards Thunder Knuckles like a mountain lion preparing to hunt. TK meets him with a steely gaze, focusing more fury and determination than he’s ever mustered up in his entire career.

TODD: We’re starting with John Black and Thunder Knuckles! Two men who have had among the longest XWF tenures among the current active roster!

STARS: These two fellas BREATHE, BLEED, AND EXCRETE XWF in everything they do! Hell, you can say the same thing about Bobby and Tommy too! But only one man is leaving representing Anarchy as the official tag team champions of Thursday nights!

The official signals for the start!

DING DING!



Anarchy Tag Title Match

Them No Good Bastards
BOBBY BOURBON & THUNDER KNUCKLES ©
- vs -
THUGS

Traditional Tag


As soon as the match begins, TK’s determined demeanor immediately becomes a shit-eating grin as he tags out, allowing John to charge forward only to slow down as he sees his prey retreat behind his more immediately athletic partner. Bobby Bourbon slips into the ring, raising a hand up to his ear to savor the crowd’s disapproval! As he drinks in the disdain, he chases it with a fist to the jaw from John Black!

John smacks his own chest, looking to goad a counter-attack from Bobby! Bob inhales after pressing his thumb to his lip to check for crimson before delivering a thunderous clap to the chest of JB! John stumbles back slightly, cursing from the pain before lifting up two middle fingers!

TODD: A definitive message to the so-called champs!

Bourbon reaches past John’s birds and rakes his eyes!

STARS: Maybe he would’ve preferred that one left on read!

As John tries to regain the use of his eyes, Bourbon capitalizes, whipping John into the ropes and clotheslining him down to the mat! He lifts John up, locking one arm in as he prepares for a double underhook suplex, but JB has a moment of hope, blindly connecting an elbow to the jaw of Bourbon. But Bobby powers through, hooking his hands under JB’s pits and heaving him across the ring with a Big Boy Toss!

TODD: Holy COW! John Black is 290 pounds! And Bobby just hucked him like a bag of garbage!

STARS: Of course, he did! Bobby’s the bigger man!

Todd: …Is he? JB and Bourbon are both massive competitors!

STARS: Anyone who knows Bobby knows he’s an athletic 291 pounds! 291 > 290. It’s simple math, Todd.

As Tommy shakes off cobwebs, clearly not used to being hucked around the ring… Bourbon grabs Black by the scruff of the neck and drags him back to the Bastards’ corner, tagging in TK.

TK and Bobby whip JB across the ring! They tandem flapjack him up into the air! JB gets about eight feet of airtime before crashing to the mat with a loud thud!

Wish smacks the turnbuckle, demanding JB scrap back into it!

TK grabs JB by the boot and starts to drag him back toward the Bastards corner…

But JB surprises TK with a boot to the skull! TK rolls backwards toward his corner! JB starts to crawl for his corner… but TK chases him down and delivers hammering forearms to the back of his head!

TODD: TK has a genuine claim to being one of the greatest tag competitors in XWF History! He’s got a high ring IQ in tag matches, he knows exactly what to do to set up his team for success and punish his opponent!

Black starts to work his way up to his feet, powering through TK’s strikes… TK glances back at the THUGs corner… seeing Tommy extend his arm…

TK suddenly charges at the THUGS corner, aiming a strike to knock Tommy off the apron!

TODD: What?!? TK’s attacking the non-legal man!

STARS: Brilliant move by TK! JB can’t tag out if there’s no one to tag![/blue]

TK swings a backfist! But Tommy ducks under… And catches TK with a headbutt!

TODD: Backfire!

TK woozily spins back around… Into JB, who delivers a back body drop! And falls forward, tagging in Tommy Wish!

TODD: Oh my! Tommy Wish!

STARS: Things just shifted in this one in a big way!

TK cradles his aching back as he scrambles up to his feet… Straight into a dropkick from Tommy Wish! A second, a third! TK manages to break Tommy’s onslaught of strikes by shoving Tommy back against the ropes… but Tommy rebounds off, and delivers a slingblade, dragging TK onto his back!

Bobby decides to step through the ropes and charge Tommy… But Tommy’s ready, twisting Bobby into a spinning powerslam!

TODD: Holy COW! Bobby Bourbon is 291 pounds! How did Tommy do that?!?

STARS: Well, Todd, Tommy is 320 pounds an-

TODD: Never mind, just… that was rhetorical.

Wish grabs Bobby by the neck before hooking Bourbon into a front facelock, looking for a HideYaFace! But TK comes from behind and chop blocks Tommy! Wish drops to the mat, cradling his leg! Bourbon and TK, sensing an opening, each grab one of Tommy’s legs… And MAKE-A-WISH!

TODD: Bobby and TK playing wishbone with Tommy Wish’s limbs!

Wish grabs at his legs, face awash with pain! The official admonishes the Bastards for their illegal double-team… They simply head to their corner and TK tags back out for Bobby!

…Unfortunately for them, both Bastards heading to their corner gave Tommy a window to crawl and tag back in JB! Bobby looks to lock up with JB, but JB dives through the air, taking Bourbon down with a flying lariat! Bourbon, with resiliency, forces himself back upright… but JB’s ready, securing a front facelock for a suplex!

…But TK, not liking how things are going, decides to step through the ropes!

TODD: The official’s got instill some order into this match! The Bastards are just coming and going in and out as they please!

JB sees TK coming and releases the front-facelock on Bobby… TK aims a haymaker punch for JB’s face, but JB ducks under and grabs TK by the neck as he passes, NECKBREAKER!

JB tries to take advantage of this window both Bastards are grounded and scoops TK off the mat and onto his shoulders, looking for a Blacklisted (Death Valley Driver)... But TK drops off the back and shoves him into Bourbon, who heaves Black off his feet by the throat! EMC SQUARD (Earth’s Mightiest Chokeslam)

TODD: I never thought I’d say this but… the THUGs are getting screwed by the damn numbers game!

STARS: It’s weird, isn’t it? It’s like watching the Thunder lose a game due to lopsided foul calls…

From the THUGs’ corner, Reggie sneaks himself up to the apron, signalling to Tommy who slides down!

TODD: Speaking of the numbers’ game, we saw this at Rebellion! The THUGs swapping members in and out in the chaos!

Bobby irish whips JB into his corner… And Reggie tags himself in!

TODD: Hello, Reggie Estrada! Bobby visibly squints like… ‘huh, Tommy Wish sure looks different than a few seconds ago’

Reggie charges in with a diving crossbody… But Bobby catches him in mid-air, just as TK pulls himself back off the mat! Bobby lifts Reggie into powerbomb position just as TK grabs his leg…

Rainbow Laser Death Sequence!

STARS: And goodbye, Reggie Estrada!

Estrada unconsciously rolls under the bottom rope… The official, suddenly realizing Reggie wasn’t even a competitor in this match, orders JB, the previous legal man, to get back in there!

Wish hops back on the apron and nods at JB… They both come through the ropes!

TODD: Looks like the THUGS are done letting the Bastards double-team them! This two-on-two is going tagless for the moment!

The official barks at the THUGs to only send in one man… And then spins, trying to make the Bastards do the same… But the decision’s already been made by both teams! Bobby and Black pair off throwing wild punches, as TK and TW both grapple and tussle each other to the mat!

TODD: This one has gone from a tag match to a slugfest!

Bobby and Black each front facelock, like a pair of stubborn bulls, each determined to suplex the other up and over, their contest of strength leading them straight into the official! The ref falls down after being clobbered by the two! Meanwhile, Wish seems to have secured TK in a side headlock… Wish goes to bulldog TK… When TK low blows Tommy! Tommy drops to his knees, as TK straightens himself out…

Meanwhile, Black, the smaller competitor (by one pound…) has gotten Bourbon into the air! But TK axe handles Black from behind! Bourbon drops back down to his feet… meanwhile, Tommy scoops himself back to his feet as TK and Bobby lift Black into position…

TODD: Uh oh! Are we gonna see another RLDS?

Bobby gets Black into powerbomb position… But Tommy climbs to the top rope… And dives onto the human mass in the center of the ring! All four men are down!

STARS: Wow! What a save by Tommy!

All four men are down as the crowd starts a ten-count! The fans demand someone get up so this carnage can continue!

TK rises from the fallen bodies from the huge leap of Tommy Wish moments prior.

TODD: How did he manage that? Nobody could just shrug off an attack like that!

Looking out to the crowds with a devilish look as he reaches into his pants and pulls out a condom, holding it up proudly!

STARS: HE WAS WEARING PROTECTION!

TODD: THAT’S NOT HOW THAT WORKS!

STARS: Tell that to Thunder Knuckles!

TK glances towards the ref, still out from the earlier incident as he reaches underneath the ring apron! He pulls out a pillowcase, looking at it suspiciously before dropping it abruptly, a snake wiggling its way out from inside!

TK: Oh fuck that!

It slithers away to another spot under the ring as TK finds the pillowcase he was actually searching for, motioning the cameraman over to look inside as he lifts up a handful of…

TODD: Oh, god, haven’t these two caused enough chaos without-

THUMB TACKS!!

The crowd roars in approval as TK gives an exaggerated thumbs up, walking over to the barrier between himself and the crowd and dumping the entire bag into a fan’s beer! The arena sends its hate down as TK gives his iconic jerk-off motion!

TODD: Leave it to the bastards to kill the vibe even when they’re breaking the rules.

Meanwhile, outside of the ring, JB and Bobby have finally climbed to their feet! John drags Bourbon by his hair into the ringpost, sending the Bastard into a haze before rolling him into the ring! With Bourbon on the back foot once more, John lifts himself to the top rope, each step seemingly as shaky as his opponent’s! The official cradles his head, finally beginning to show signs of life himself! John leaps off the top!

FLYING LARIAT!

Bourbon is sent crumbling to the canvas! John Black slams his fists against the mat as he forces himself upwards and locks a liontamer hold on Bobby!

TODD: JB’s locked in the Real Raw! This could be it for the Bastards!

Bourbon winces in pain as he claws at the canvas, digging in deep to try and reach the ropes as the ref groggily checks to see if he can continue! But JB musters up the will to drag Bobby Bourbon towards the opposite side of the ring! Bobby doesn’t look like he can take much longer!

Suddenly, TK reappears, his pillowcase filled with X-Bux as he swings it at JB’s jaw! John stumbles out of his submission hold, nearly tumbling on the official who is utterly baffled and didn’t see a thing! Bobby lifts up, transitioning from his prone position to standing as he lifts JB up into the sky and brings him plummeting all the way back to Earth!

BOBBY BOMBBBBBBB!

The ref crawls over weakly, slapping the mat as Bobby locks in the pin!


1!






2!







3!



WINNERS: THEM NO GOOD BASTARDS


STARS: The Bastards retain despite a hard fought effort by The THUGS! You might have the numbers on them, but they’ll put their money on you- literally!

TODD: I really thought The THUGS had it, too! I suppose I’ll just have to go back to betting for when we’re gonna get that raise they told us about.

STARS: Not on air! We’ll be right back, after these important words from our sponsor… ourselves!

[Image: wireline.png]

[Image: LkEYxqp.png]

XWF PRESENTS: LEAP OF FAITH
LIVE - KROGER FIELD - LEXINGTON, KY

EARLY TICKETS are on PRESALE only on: XWF99.com!

Get in on the Action, It’s not Too Late
Who will walk out with the Vaunted 24/7 Briefcase?
Who will Charlie Nickles defend against as Universal Champion?
- JULY 20TH 2025 -

[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: I, for one, am looking forward to Leap of Faith.

STARS: Wow. Really going out on a limb there, huh?

TODD: …

STARS: I’m pretty sure everyone is looking forward to Leap of Faith!

TODD: I’m excited to see how Anarchy is represented this year.

STARS: The A-Show definitely needs to show up and show out. That’s for sure.

TODD: Well, that would be your job, wouldn’t it?

STARS: I guess.

TODD: What do you mean, you guess?



One for the money rings throughout the arena as JY steps out from behind the curtain with a kings crown on. He stands center stage and takes in all of the boo’s before adjusting his crown with a smirk and heading down to the ring.

RING ANNOUNCER: INTROOODUUUUCINGGGG The One, The Only. He hails from TOOOROOONTOOO ONTARIOOOO CANADAAAAA, KING JUUUUUSTIIINNN YOOOOOORK!

York enters the ring and stands on the middle ropes and holds his crown high in the air while giving a death stare into the crowd.

York calls for a microphone before the match between him and Shark commences. The crowd is letting him know exactly how they feel about him.

JY: Shut the fuck up.

STARS: Whoa.

TODD: Whoa is right.

STARS: I think I like this guy.

JY: Oh Thad… I bet you thought you were so clever having your little puppy dog show up with your golden shovel. I’m also kind of shocked that you took your nose out of Lucy’s asshole long enough to put that whole scenario together. It’s sad to watch the owner of this company cost one of his biggest stars the second title. I never thought I’d say this but maybe Theo would do a better job than you.

York slaps his title that is hanging off his shoulder freshly shined and looking brighter than the garbage shovel that Cy brought to Rebellion.

JY: You must’ve bought gift cards to Burger King to get that fucking dickwipe Keeton to attack me from behind because that’s about all he’s worth. I’ll pitch in a bottle of super glue so you can have his lips firmly attached to your ass. I’m not going to bother addressing the curly haired freak that has to spread himself everywhere like a cheap whore in a sorry attempt to find success. Quick hint… it’s not gone well for him.

York laughs at the thought of that dipshit Keeton.

JY: Let's get down to business. I cost you your match against Enigma and you cost me my second title against Graves. So the way I see it we’re 1-1, an eye for an eye. So let’s cut this bullshit game and get to it. Bring your scrawny little ass down here.

York stares at the top of the ramp and nothing.

JY: That's what I thought, you nutless prick. What about Cy? Bring that golden shovel down here and I’ll shove it up your ass. No, nothing? That’s what I thought. Fuck you both and you haven’t seen the last of me. Now watch as I continue to make this brand far more prestigious than you ever could. Oh and that curly haired freak has what’s coming to him when and if he can scale up from the bottom of the card.

York hands his title to the time keeper and prepares for his match with James Shark.

TODD: Wow. Way to call out Thaddeus!

STARS: That motherfucker still owes me three microwaves.

TODD: …

STARS: Don’t look at me like that.

TODD: What do you need three microwaves for?

STARS: You wouldn’t understand.

TODD: No. But what I do understand is that if Justin York keeps poking the bear, eventually, Thaddeus will respond!

STARS: Oh really. On my brand? Not without my microwaves he won’t.

TODD: He’s your boss!

STARS: Sorry. I don’t hear three microwaves whirring in the background right now.

Demons by Tech N9ne begins to blast on the arena's speakers, accompanies by a mixed reaction from the crowd.



I'm an angel-slash-demon
What makes me a demon is lust, I'm girl crazy
and that's why I couldn't keep my wife
And that's the lust demons living within me
And uh, but my heart, love big
So I know a lot of demons come to my shows, as well as angels
A lot of demons, a lot of demons, a lot of demons.

The sound of a huge explosion shakes the arena as flames shoot up from the stage for a few seconds. His silhouette can be seen behind the flames as he comes out of the curtains.

When I was one, and a two, and a three, and a four
I knew I was a special one who had a little more
And they wondered why I was plotting, rotten to the core
It was nothing but an itty-bitty demon
There's a demon inside of me! Can I kill it? Hell nah!
Can I kill it? Hell naw! Can I kill it? Hell nah!
There's a demon inside a me! Can I kill it? Hell nah!
Can I kill it? Hell naw! Can I kill it? Hell nah!

As the flames stop he walks forward and takes off his black shirt before throwing it into the crowd as he walks down the ramp. Shark is talking shit as he’s making his way towards the ring, his cuban chains swaying around his neck, as he walks past one of the cameras the broadcast can pick up some unpleasant words about his opponent.

TODD: James Shark has been, well, a little bit unhinged as of late. If you want to speak about drug use and potential abuse.

STARS: What? Why? Is Damian coming back out?

TODD: No?

STARS: Then why bring up drugs? That makes like, no sense.

TODD: …

STARS: You’re not implying…

TODD: I’m not implying anything!

STARS: You’re damn right you’re not implying anything, because, JAMES SHARK IS A SAINT!

His music continues blasting, the fans screaming out “HELL NAH” every time the chorus hits. Shark slides into the ring and runs over to the farthest turnbuckle before jumping up and landing on the second ropes. The feed switches to one of the cameras located in the upper level of the arena, it begins to zoom all the way down to Shark as he stands still, zooming until there is a close-up of his face. A devilish smirk breaks his seriousness as he jumps off the turnbuckle and begins to shadow box.

TODD: Both these men talked about how they considered this match akin to a warmup, as though it didn’t even matter to them. But seeing them face to face in the ring, with the tension clearly rising… you know it’s got to be a lot more than that.

STARS: I mean, egos are a fragile thing. And the more you inflate yours the more it wants to burst. And what I see in that ring right now on a fine St. Louis night is two egos. One inflating at an incredible rate, and the other potentially fractured.

TODD: Wow. You can be insightful when you want to be.

STARS: I can’t lose either way. Anarchy is better off with both of these men!




"KING" JUSTIN YORK
- vs -
JAMES SHARK

Non-Title Singles


York and Shark square off in the middle of the ring and go nose to nose while talking some shit to each other as the referee calls for the bell.

DING DING!

Shark takes a step back and before he has the chance to react to anything York quickly thumbs him in the eye for which the referee admonishes him.

TODD: OH, it’s getting started right away! Cheap shot!

STARS: If you ain’t cheating, you ain’t trying. Which is odd, cause this is York basically admitting he’s trying.

TODD: Are you sure this isn’t him practicing, Jimbo?

STARS: I said I’d cut you.

York quickly shoves the referee away from him after exchanging some words and turns his attention back to Shark who snaps off a series of quick jabs followed by a heavy right hook that has York reeling. Shark Irish whips York into the corner at full speed and York crashes into the turnbuckles and slams the canvas.

STARS: And this is why I wanted a SHARK on my squad. I mean, look at the boxing background coming into play here.

TODD: Boxing rings and wrestling rings are both rings, Jimmy.

STARS: …

TODD: I just thought you might need help drawing the comparison.

STARS: I’m out of crackers. But if I wasn’t, I’d give you a James Shark uppercut. You aren’t worth the energy.

Shark jaunts over to York but he quickly rolls up Shark with an inside cradle and grabs the ropes. The referee counts two and then notices York has his hans on the rope and breaks the hold, once again laying into York for not playing by the rules. York backs the referee down into the corner and tries to intimidate him and SHARK SPINS HIM AROUND AND NAILS HIM WITH A HEAVY CLOTHESLINE. York crashes to the mat and bounces back up quickly and then Shark drops him again. Shark pulls York to his feet and hooks him for a DDT and shows off to the crowd before planting York firmly on the top of his head and making the cover.

TODD: Huge DDT!

One!


Two!

York powers out at two!

TODD: Ooh, near fall by the former Universal Champion there.

STARS: Credit where credit is due. Canadians are known to be hard-headed.

TODD: …

STARS: What?

TODD: A) That’s not credit. B) Traditionally, in professional wrestling, Samoans are known to have hard heads.

STARS: I wasn’t talking about wrestling, Rodd.

Shark knee drops York right in the melon before hauling him back to his feet and delivering a nasty spinning back fist that connects and then driving him down once again with a beautiful neckbreaker. Before Shark has the chance to capitalize York wisely rolls outside the ring to recollect himself as things haven’t been going his way. Shark rolls out behind him and chases him around the ring and York suddenly turns around and drops Shark with a nasty short clothesline. York climbs on top of the former universal champion and reigns down furious right hands right into his face. The referee has made it to a count of 5.

TODD: You’re not actually going to let these two champion-level talents get counted out here tonight on your first Anarchy, right Jimbo?

STARS: I mean, I let the sweeties and the fellas in the back conduct their business accordingly. I’m not an active wrestler, nor am I a referee. All I can do is give them a stage to impress me.

TODD: What about the fans?

STARS: They can pay to watch. Sure.

TODD: Glad to know you care.

York gets off of Shark and pulls him to his feet and Irish whips him into the steel steps but Shark places his hands on them to stop himself from crashing thunderously into them. York is taunting the crowd and dusting his hands together as if he just eliminated Shark for good. York turns and sees that shake didn’t hit the steps and dashes full speed at him but Shark ducks and hoists York over with a back body drop RIGHT ON THE STEPS!

STARS: Ohh, that hurts in every Province, Justin Todderlake.

TODD: Really? I thought you’d be more worried about the stairs.

STARS: I can buy so many stairs with the money Justin York will make me.

TODD: …

STARS: Us. Our brand. The XWF.

TODD: And what are you buying with Shark’s draw money? Ring posts?

STARS: I mean, six-sided rings do require more posts…

TODD: Ain’t no way in hell they’re letting you get away with that.

STARS: Listen. Justin York may be hurt. And you’re being an asshole right now.

Shark rolls into the ring just as the referee makes it to the count of 7. Shark taunts York to make it to the ring before the ten count and he wills himself onto the apron at the count of nine. Shark hits the opposite side ropes and strikes with the PAID IN FULL (flying elbow) but York ducks and shark hits the ropes. York strikes with a heavy forearm strike and then pulls shark out onto the apron while he’s groggy. York hoists him up while they’re on the apron and drives him down with a nasty apron snap Suplex. The two crash to the floor from the momentum.

TODD: Odd that Shark was willing to take the countout victory there.

STARS: He was trying to punk him, man. He said this match ain’t shit, and he was gonna prove it.

TODD: Until York dropped him on his head.

STARS: I’d be proud of myself if I wasn’t watching two of my best shorten my profit margin. I mean their life spans.

TODD: …

York is first to his feet and tosses Shark over the announce table and crashing into the announcers chairs.

TODD: OH GOD- *Static*

Jimmy drives away from the table with his hoveround.

STARS: Oh no… they killed Timmy. How tragic.

TODD: It’s… Todd…

York walks around the ring taunting fans and eve ripping the sign of a little kid in the front row. York then decides that he’s had enough of this match and grabs his Revolution title from the time keepers area. Shark crawls out from behind the announce desk and makes it to his feet and just when York swings the title square at his head Shark ducks and shoves York from behind into the ring post. His face clangs not only off the post but off of his championship belt. York crumbles to the floor but Shark is quickly back on the offensive and rolls him into the ring to break the referee's count of 9.

STARS: Told ya I needed more ringposts, Toddy.

TODD: How did you… no…

STARS: I told you. Captain Future knows his shit, man.

TODD: Hold on… let me get… settled back in here…

STARS: Since Todd can’t do his job right now. By gawd, did you see York’s head bounce off of that solid American steel! I didn’t just hear it… I felt it!

TODD: …damn it. Not my monitor is all fuzzy.

Shark rolls in behind him and signals the end of the contest. Shark leaps through the guard of York and drives him with a nasty Superman punch causing the back of york's head to rattle off of the canvas SHARKBAIT!!! Shark smells blood in the water and hooks the leg of York and the referee counts.

ONE

TWO

THRE———

YORK SHOOTS HIS SHOULDER OFF THE MAT AT THE VERY LAST SECOND AND SHARK CAN'T BELIEVE IT.

TODD: Say what you will about either of these two competitors! They’re harder to keep down than anyone thinks!

STARS: Shark’s string of bad luck isn’t because he’s lost a step. The competition level is just that damned high! Justin York’s Canadian Dome is just that damned hard!

TODD: I was going to mention his pride, but oh yeah, you go and make it weird.

STARS: You brought up the Samoans and Dwayne “The Grok” Johnson ain’t even here tonight!

TODD: That’s not the point!

York kicks Shark off of him and sends him crashing into the referee who gets knocked out of the ring. Shark quickly goes back to work and grabs York in a nasty looking guillotine choke but York does what he does and low blows Shark without the referee being able to see it. Shark crumbles to his knees and York with one last burst of energy hooks him and powers him up for the KILLZONE (Canadian Brainbuster)

STARS: YORK GOES FROM DAMIAN SANTOS FRIED EGG BRAIN TO KILLZONE! HE’S GONNA DO IT!

Just as York is about to drop Shark on his head he slips out the back door and hits the ropes at full speed and lands the PAID IN BLOOD FLYING ELBOW!!

TODD: PAID IN BLOOD! SHARK COUNTERED!

STARS: SHARK IS LIKE A HAMMERHEAD, EXCEPT HE KEEPS HAMMERING KING YORKS HEAD INSTEAD!

York hits the canvas like a ton of bricks and Shark also hits the deck out of exhaustion. Both men are down as the referee makes it back into the ring and sees Shark crawl forward and drape his arm over York-


ONE!



TWO!!



THREE!!!

DING DING DING!

WINNER: JAMES SHARK


TODD: He got him!

STARS: Damn. I mean, good. Great even. I really booked a no-winner for myself. But hey, at least James Shark looks happy for the first time in weeks. I know York is going to be upset and, thank god for that Canadian Head of his or he’d probably have CTE.

TODD: York is going to take this loss tough being the competitor that he is. But he’s still our Revolution Champion. He’ll break out of the funk. Meanwhile, Shark looks more than happy. Wait… speaking of, what in the hell is James Shark doing?

Shark immediately gets up to his feet groggily after the pinfall and slides out of the ring. He starts motioning for the production crew to give him the XWF Revolution Championship but they all look at one another confused. Shark can be heard cussing at them as he ends up snatching the Championship and throwing it over his shoulder.

As he walks away with the Championship he looks over at York and shrugs his shoulders at him as if this was his fault.

“A loss is a loss, homie. Ain’t they tell you I’m a belt collector??”

He winks at him before jumping over the barricade and celebrating with the title as the fans are all barely held back from joining him by Security.

STARS: He’s celebrating with his Revolution Championship, Todd. What’s the problem?

TODD: He’s not celebrating with it. He’s stealing it!

STARS: Now that’s a line that I won’t cross. You should be ashamed of yourself.

TODD: No, he’s literally taking the belt with him, right now, right before our very eyes.

STARS: So?

TODD: It was a non-title match!

STARS: …fuck.

A rumble emerges from the crowd as James Shark is celebrating his win. Shark thinks it’s for him but when a figure pops up behind him the rumble turns into a roar.

It's KING KIERAN!

TODD: What the hell?!

BAM!

An elbow to the back of the head strikes Shark down and he rolls to the floor around ringside. The Revolution title drops next to him.

King pursues and grabs Shark by the head, hurtling him into the barricade. And then again. And a third for good measure.

TODD: THAT’S KING KIERAN!

The Revolution title catches his eye. Grabbing it from the ground, he waits for Shark - whose head has been well and truly rattled - to rise.

STARS: He wants to steal my belt too!

TODD: It’s not your belt!

King smashes the title off the Shark’s head and discards it over his body!

Movement in the ring catches King's eye and he darts in towards where Justin York is rising. Ugly on the Outside! King drives York's face unto his knee in scarily quick fashion!

TODD: I don’t understand! KING KIERAN is HERE on ANARCHY and he’s TAKING OUT EVERYBODY!

York drops and flops to the outside where Shark also lies, and still King isn't done. He follows after, and sets to work repositioning the steel steps. York gets yanked to his feet before…

F UR HEAD on the steel steps to Justin York!

The sound of York's skull ricocheting off the steel reverberates around the building. Without even breathing, Kieran turns his eye to James Shark.

STARS: DAMN IT! …now the steps are really busted.

He pulls him up.

And drives him down with the same brainbuster to the steel steps that he just laid York out with!

TODD: You’re not at all worried about YOUR talent?!

STARS: I mean, there’s a cost to benefit ratio to consider…

Shark bounces from the steps and lands not far from York.

His jaw clenched, King Kieran stands on the ring steps and observes his handiwork. He crouches down and speaks directly to his fallen victims.

KING: One King. Zero Revolutions.

Uncharacteristically short on words, The ACTUAL King of the XWF leaves the way he came through the crowd.

TODD: Did he just… is KIERAN KING declaring himself the one true King of the XWF?

STARS: I mean, at this rate, we may not have any Kings left by Leap of Faith.

TODD: Holy shit.

[Image: wireline.png]


ANOTHER BRIEF INTERMISSION

A RICKETY CAGE IS FABRICATED AROUND THE RING

ITS TOP RESTS AGAINST THE MOLDY DROP CEILING TILES ABOVE



[Image: wireline.png]


TODD: This isn’t a damn easy street walk out steel cage match… it’s a Goddamn Temu Hell in a Cell!

STARS: I don’t know why you’re being so bitchy. I said it would fit.

TODD: Barely!

STARS: I mean, they could escape from the top if they still wanted to. Just move one or two of the ceiling tiles out of the way…

TODD: It doesn’t work that way!

STARS: Gasp! You’re right! It’s almost like, our two top champions are about to beat the shit out of each other for our enjoyment!

Suddenly, there’s the strum of a banjo heard from off-stage…



Through the apron, bursts “Micheal Graves” (conceivably), Anarchy champion, sporting the “Dark Warrior” mask, and the belt on his shoulder.

STARS: And there he is, MY TOP champion!

TODD: Well yes, but actually no?

STARS: WE ARE ANARCHY. WE ARE THE A SHOW.

TODD: We’re still a part of the XWF. Charlie Nickles is the Universal-

STARS: SILENCE, FOOL!

As the banjo strings are plucked, ‘Graves’ strolls down the ramp… As an entourage follows him!

Irwin, Mark Flynn’s #1 fan is plucking the banjo, playing the folk song…

Behind *him* are the Students of Gravy.

Miss Furry paws at a triangle, which isn’t plugged into anything…

While Peter Parkor brings up the rear, holding a microphone…

Peter raises the mask over his lips and lifts the mic.

♫ You may think that you’re neutral ♫
♫  There are no neutrals though ♫
♫ You’re either with the wrestlers ♫
♫ Or a pawn of the CEOs ♫

The fans join in, knowing the chorus by heart…

WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON? WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON?

‘Graves’ continues to walk down the ramp to the beat, staring at the challenger in the ring… as the entourage behind him plays…

♫ The Boss wants us divided ♫
♫  He don’t want this song sung ♫
♫ But us wrestlers, we fight until ♫
♫ That final bell is rung  ♫

STARS: WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON? WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON?

TODD: Fuck sake!

♫ You have the Uni, Charlie ♫
♫  But does it make you whole? ♫
♫ You’ve got just what you wanted ♫
♫ And it only cost your soul ♫

WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON? WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON?

…Finally, finishing his slow, deliberate march, ‘Graves’ enters the ring and lifts the belt over his head.

♫ Dance for Peter, Charlie ♫
♫  Fight the Revolution Wave ♫
♫ Drag yourself far lower ♫
♫ Than even Robyn’s Grave ♫

WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON? WHICH SIDE ARE YOU OOOOOOOOOON?

Irwin finishes with a little banjo solo…

Before humbly sliding his instrument behind his back…

The entourage heads back up the ramp, as ‘Graves’ hands the belt off to the official, never taking his eyes off the entrance way.

TODD: My god, though, Graves looks laser focused.

STARS: Oh, he is. I can sense his anger. I can feel his hate flowing through him.

TODD: …

STARS: I know he wants to debut a new item on XWFshop. They both do. I can feeeeeel it.



Charlie Nickles emerges from the curtain with the new, old, big, gold, XWF Universal Championship title belt strapped around his waist. But that’s not all. He’s got his hands taped for a bare knuckle fight, a felt bag in one hand, and a barbed-wire baseball bat draped over his shoulder! He points the bat in Micheal’s direction, and says something that, quite frankly, no one in the building can make out. Whatever it is, it’s personal. The cameras pan over to Gravy who paces inside of the steel trap, leaving ample distance between himself and the door.

TODD: The energy for this main event is absolutely palpable, there, Jimbo.

STARS: Charlie is already using more brains than I thought the man had. He’s turning their little temporary house into his home.

TODD: Looks like he’s trying to turn it into Micheal Graves’s… uhm…

STARS: Grave?

Nickles pushes himself down the ramp one heavy step at a time, until he reaches the ringside area. He looks up into the ring at Graves through the steel mesh. Graves is motioning him to come in and join him. Ironically, the referee opens the door for Nickles but refuses to go inside with the two men to formally start the match.

TODD: Why do I got the feeling this is going to be a bloodbath?

STARS: I mean, hopefully it is. I can’t force these two to fight for life and limb over something as simple as bragging rights and a merch opportunity, now can I?

Charlie brings his weapons of choice into the ring with him, but he does leave the Uni title belt behind for safe keeping. Matter of fact, he is quite threatening to the timekeeper that if anything were to happen to his championship, he’d drag them in the cage along with them. With all that being crystal clear, The Nickleman steps inside, where he is immediately rushed by Mar..cheal Graves! Conceivably!





CHARLIE NICKLES
- vs -
MICHEAL GRAVES (conceivably)

Easy Way Out cage match
The only way to win the match is to walk out of the cage door!
Winner gets a new item on XWF shop.com!
(Non-Title)


DING DING!!

The match begins with the men throwing haymakers. Obviously Graves needs Charlie to drop the weapons, to which he does with a flurry of fists that cause Nickleman to respond in kind. The two brawl to the corners, literally trading positions and spinning around the ropes until Nickleman lands a knee lift. Charlie goes for his barbed wire bat the first instant that he can but Graves steps on the handle of the bat and follows up with a straight right fist to Nickles’ steel jaw.

STARS: Oh, and in case anyone is wondering. The referee has been instructed not to take the padlock off of the door for the first five minutes.

TODD: What? Why?

STARS: Not that we’re having any problems tonight. But you know, just for future reference. You step in my cage, you got to fight.

TODD: …you’re making this more uncomfortable than it needs to be.

STARS: Nah. Charlie and Gravy are making this way easier than I anticipated. I could have locked them in a room together and gotten the same result.

Graves, with a grip on the back of Nickles head, attempts to launch him into the rickety mesh that’s surrounding the ring. But Nickles has enough strength to counter and throw a back elbow that staggers the Anarchy Champion sending him back away. Nickles charges but Graves tosses him with a back body drop that lands him in the center of the ring. Graves with an elbow drop to follow up. Nickles crawls over to the corner. Micheal looks as though he’d like to do some mudhole stomping when Charlie uses his grip on the rope to throw an upkick to the Anarchy Champion’s gut.

3:00 UNTIL DOOR UNLOCKED

2:59

2:58


TODD: I don’t really see the timer being an issue here. They may fight all night at this rate.

STARS: Gravy told Charlie that he’s the king of walking out. It makes me wonder if the true winner of this match isn’t the one who wants to leave.

TODD: …you son of a bitch.

STARS: What?

Charlie pulls himself back up to his feet, but Graves charges! But Charlie uses Graves’ own momentum against him, with a spinning powerslam right into the turnbuckles behind him! Graves lands head-first on the mat below, clutching his lower back!

STARS: Sick move there, Charlie. Perhaps I will let you clean this place up for me.

TODD: Are you talking to yourself? Or to Charlie?

STARS: Yes.

TODD: You’re deranged!

STARS: Hey, eyes and mouth on the match at hand, Todd. Our champion is in a lot of trouble right now.

This gives Charles the time he needs to grab up his barbed wire bat. He stalks Gravy with the bat held high over his head, ready to swing down. Micheal grabs Chuck by the waistband and pulls him forward into the corner. Charlie hits the top turnbuckle with some force and the barbed wire simply sticks to the mesh of the cage, leaving the bat itself hanging.

TODD: It may not be a part of your plan, but it honestly may be in Micheal Graves’s best interest to leave this cage as quickly as possible.

STARS: Oh ye of little faith. As if Graves’ ego isn’t as big and as bold as Charles’ in charge’s new belt.

Graves begins clubbing Charlie in the forehead with rapid fire forearm shots! Nickles staggers back. Graves comes flying out of the corner and he takes Nickles down to the canvas with a thunderous lariat!

TODD: Micheal Graves really starting to fight back, like he’s fighting for his life in there!

Graves takes a brief moment to look over at the door-

1:01

1:00

59


When Chuck catches him with an uppercut to the groin!

The 550+ in attendance here tonight all make a collective groan that’s hard to describe as Graves drops down to his knees in front of Charlie. Nickles, being the kind giving man that he is, drills Graves with a headbutt on the bridge of the nose before he begins to rip at the mask of Micheal Graves!

TODD: Oh no, Charlie doesn’t just want to punish Graves… he wants to steal his identity!

STARS: Charlie doesn’t buy this whole Alleged business.That’s why Bashy took things a step farther. Now we’re pretty damn sure it’s conceivable that what you see IS Micheal Graves.

TODD: What I see is blood from a potentially broken nose leaking out from the rip in the mask!

Graves knows he has to fight back, and fight back he does. From a knee he throws right hands up into Charlie’s features, eventually breaking the grip. Graves pops back up to his feet and Charlie immediately grabs him and irish whips him into the ropes. Graves comes charging back with a cross body attempt that Nickles ducks and Graves smacks the canvas and rolls all the way to the cage wall.

STARS: Precarious position here. Don’t want to be caught between the ropes and the mesh.

3

2

1

DOOR UNLOCKED


TODD: Well this changes everything!

STARS: We’ll see.

Charles doesn’t even blink at the doorway. With Graves working himself up between the ropes and the mesh, Charles grabs him by the mask with both hands and begins to slam the back of his head into the cage AGAIN and AGAIN and AGAIN and AGAIN! He does this until HE tires himself out, leaving Graves to slump over the ropes. Chuck then drags his limp body over the rope to the point where he’s draped over in his arms. Rope suspended DDT drops the Anarchy Champion right on the crown of his head!

TODD: Nickles isn’t stopping his onslaught.

STARS: He’s here to prove a point, Todd.

TODD: And what point might that be?

STARS: You can’t claim to be the best unless you are. Tonight we take a glimpse into what lengths these two top Champions would go to one up each other… and themselves.

Nickles limps over to the felt bag that fell much earlier on in the contest and laid undisturbed until now. He pulls it up and begins to undo the string that’s keeping the pouch tied shut at the top.

STARS: Any guesses as to what’s inside the bag?

TODD: It’s damned thumbtacks. Everyone in this building and watching at home tonight knows it!

Gravy, meanwhile, is showing signs of life, using the ropes and the cage wall to pull himself back up to wobbly feet. Charlie approaches with an inflated ego, taunting the man who he thinks is a standard mark and a fraud. Graves can barely stand right on spaghetti legs. But when Charlie shows him the bag, Graves gives the pouch a backhanded swipe. Knocking it on the mat, and yes, spilling out some of the thumbtacks in the process.

Charles scoops Graves up for another powerslam. He turns and aims for the bag. Just when he’s about to slam Graves down onto the exposed tacks, Micheal slips out from Charlie’s grip!

TODD: That was a close call!

Charlie turns to see Graves standing behind him. Graves goes for another lariat but Charlie ducks this one. Graves spins around and Charlie kicks the bag of thumbtacks straight at Micheal Graves, and Thumbtacks go flying everywhere throughout the ring! And even out into the crowd!

STARS: Well, shit. That wasn’t supposed to happen.

TODD: No shit!

Graves might even have some of those thumbtacks stuck on him… yes he does! He’s picking a tack or two that had attached themselves to his mask mid-flight. And Charlie uses this opportunity to scoop Graves right up and SIDEWALK SLAM HIM DOWN ONTO A PILE OF TACKS!

HOLY SHIT!! HOLY SHIT!! HOLY SHIT!! HOLY SHIT!!

Nickles has a smirk on his face as he lifts his hand up to show that, yes, his hand and the entire side of his ass got covered in tacks as well… but he doesn’t seem to care!

Meanwhile, Graves is rolling (carefully) around on the mat, trying to take pressure off of the tacks inside of his skin while trying not to add any others along the way (allegedly)!

TODD: You’ve turned this quaint little Athletic Club into a death chamber!

STARS: Quit being so dramatic. Hey Zeus.

Charles looks over at the doorway, but he shakes his head. No, he has more planned for Micheal Graves.

Charlie stands up and starts to undo the buckle of his pants…

TODD: We’ve seen this before!

STARS: I haven’t. Hopefully this isn’t normal!

Nickles yanks the leather belt out from the loops and he holds it high in the air for the crowd to see. He limps over to where Graves is writhing on the mat in sharp pain… and Nickles decides to add to it, by WHIPPING HIM ALONG THE TACKS STUCK IN HIS BACK!!

TODD: I think… I think I’m going to be sick.

STARS: Do that shit on your side.

TODD: Charlie Nickles is laying his belt to Micheal Graves’s thumbtack riddled ass!

WHACK. WHACK. WHACK. WHACK. WHACK.

Pure malice. Pure hatred. By the time Charles is done, there’s welts along Gravy’s back with thumbtacks sticking out of it, and the Gravy crew are considering tearing through the cage themselves to save their leader. Charlie motions towards the crowd that he’s ready to end this, once and for all.

TODD: Not sure what Charlie is thinking here. But it cannot be good!

STARS: No use in playing with your food, Chuck. Put him down.

Charles gathers up another pile of tacks by dragging his boot along the mat. He grabs Graves by the mask and forces him back to his feet.

CHARLIE KICKS GRAVES IN THE GUT, DOUBLING HIM OVER!

HE DOUBLE-UNDERHOOKS THE ARMS-

DEVIL HOOK-

NO!

Graves breaks his grip, spins out! Charlie charges at him but Gravy ducks a clothesline. By the time Chuck turns around, MASSIVE SHOTGUN DROPKICK INTO THE CORNER!

TODD: MICHEAL GRAVES counters! But how much did it take out of him?!

STARS: He’s losing a good bit of life juice there.

TODD: Fuck you Jimmy. Life juice? The fuck is wrong with you?!

Graves mounts the ropes and begins to rain down crimson right hands on the jaw of Nickles! The crowd counts along with each punch… 1… 2… 3… 4… NO!

CHARLIE grabs GRAVES in a powerbomb position!

Graves reaches out for something, anything he can grab a hold of!

THE BARBED WIRE BAT!

Charlie walks Graves over to the pile of tacks, but just about when he’s about to Jackknife him-

GRAVES GRINDS THE BARBED WIRE ACROSS CHARLIES FACE - RAKING HIM IN THE EYES WITH IT!

TODD: Alright, that’s it… I can’t watch!

STARS: DON’T FUCK OUR RATINGS, TODD!

Charlie is forced to let go and Graves drops down on his feet. Graves grabs Charlie with a front face lock!

He LIFTS!

CUTTER!

TODD: THE END ON THE TACKS!!! THE END ON THE TACKS!!!

STARS: BY GOD WHAT A SIGHT. OUR TWO TOP CHAMPIONS, BLEEDING LIKE STUCK PIGS!

Graves staggers back to his feet, but he can barely keep himself upright. He falls backwards onto the ropes by the door. The referee opens the door for him. But Graves simply has to look back one last time.

He sees Charlie Nickles, with tacks all in his crimson-masked face, smiling, and giving him the finger!

You know which finger!

Graves looks at the open door, and shakes his head. He turns himself around and gingerly walks over to Charlie, standing over him.

Graves slowly pulls Charlie back to his feet, takes him for another front face lock, and yanks him up!

BUT WHEN HE DOES, THE BARBED WIRE BAT IN CHARLIES HANDS COMES CRASHING UP INTO GRAVES CROTCH!

TODD: God damn it! Micheal Graves had the match won! All he had to do was walk out the damned door!

STARS: And there it is.

TODD: There what is?

STARS: The reason we need a man like Charlie to clean things up around here. Too much ego and pride.

TODD: You’re one to talk!

STARS: I am, aren’t I?

Charlie, heavily staggered now, takes Graves over to the pile of tacks remaining and double underhooks him again. Graves does everything he can to fight out of it, but Charlie is doing everything he can to drop him on his head one more time!

CHARLIE GOES FOR THE DEVIL HOOK DROP!

GRAVES COUNTERS WITH A BACK BODY DROP!

NO!

CHARLIE HOLDS ON! HE’S UPSIDE DOWN ON GRAVES’ BACK!

GRAVES CHARGES TOWARD THE CAGE WALL, SLAMMING CHARLIE’S ENTIRE BODY FULL FORCE INTO THE MESH!

TODD: Oh my God! How can Graves even hold Charlie up like that with all the blood he’s lost?

STARS: With the blood that he hasn’t yet lost. Duh.

CHARLIE’S GRIP WEAKENS!

GRAVES TAKES CHARLIE ON ANOTHER TRIP, TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE RING, THROWING BOTH THEM AT FULL FORCE-

THEY HIT THE DOOR AND IT SWINGS OPEN!

TODD: OOH! That was CLOSE!

STARS: Yeah…

TODD: They both almost fell out!

CHARLIE DROPS DOWN ON HIS FEET, WITH THE DOUBLE UNDERHOOK STILL LOCKED ON!

DEVIL HOOK DROP… CONNECTS!!!

GRAVES HEAD SLAMS INTO THE PILE OF TACKS FOREHEAD FIRST!!!

BUT THE MASSIVE IMPACT CAUSES MICHEAL TO BOUNCE RIGHT BACK UP TO HIS FEET…

HE STAGGERS BACKWARDS OVER TO THE ROPES…

AND STUMBLES THROUGH THEM!

OUT THE DOOR AND ONTO THE RINGSIDE FLOOR!

DING DING DING!!!

TODD: This HELL is FINALLY, MERCIFULLY, OVER!!!!

WINNER AND RECIPIENT OF NEW MERCH OPPORTUNITY COURTESY OF JIMMY STARS: MICHEAL GRAVES (CONCEIVABLY)


STARS: Boo!

Inside the ring, Charlie Nickles sits in a pool of their blood and spent thumbtacks, with the barbed wire baseball bat at his side.

He looks out to Micheal Graves laying on the ringside floor much the same.

And even though he was not declared the winner tonight.

Charlie sits pleased knowing that, in his mind, that his ring is just a little bit cleaner than when the night started.

Fade on Charlie Nickles being handed the Universal Championship belt with a genuine on his face, and with a thumbtack sticking out and through his one nostril.

[Image: wireline.png]

Hold onto your Hats:

Match Writers:
The Maple Moose (JY)
THE MACHINE (Considerably)
Dolly Needs a Pardon
A Nickle-Plated Big Gold Belt
The Spirit of Ned Kaye
Jimmy Motherfuckin’ Stars

Segment Writers:
A No Good Bastard (TK)
Double Moose (JY)
THE MACHINE (Allegedly)
BASHY
Hammerhead Shark/Summer SZN
King Kraken Awakened

RPers:
You
Your friends
Your friends friends
And in fifteen years, your crotch goblins

“Is this… not… a stage divine?”
See you in all in Two Weeks
Where we'll do it all again-
Much Love for you All-
Our XWF Community
]]> <![CDATA[ANARCHY - 5/15/2025]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48871 Thu, 15 May 2025 20:43:54 -0700 "The Bashmaster" Barry Masterson]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48871

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05 - 15 - 2025

LIVE FROM DAVID MCKEEVER POST 64

BUFFALO, NEW YORK




REVOLUTION CHAMPIONSHIP
JUSTIN YORK©
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX
NO HOLDS BARRED



SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
SOLOMON KLINE
BEST TWO OUT OF THREE FALLS





”CAVORTIN” JAKE BORDEN & LARRY TACT w/ ROGER
- vs -
MR. OZ & BOBBY BOURBON w/ THUNDER KNUCKLES

TAG MATCH - NO FALLS- NO SUBMISSION- NO DQ
OPPOSING MANAGER MUST ‘THROW IN THE TOWEL’ TO WIN


The scene opens up outside the arena and the camera captures James Shark as he can be seen entering the building. The New York crowd explodes with cheers. It’s not Brooklyn, but it doesn’t matter - this is still home territory for Shark and the fans let him know it.

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He walks into the building draped in diamonds around his neck and wrist, his usual swagger, but this wasn’t any ordinary visit. He had been dared to come here by Charlie Nickles, the challenge had been laid down back at Warfare - If Shark wanted his Universal title back, he’d have to come to Anarchy to take it. And that’s exactly what he planned to do.

As Shark nears the camera he gives it a wink.

Shark: New York. Daddy’s home. We got a smelly hobo out here wearin’ my Championship belt like it’s his. Let’s find him and show that motherfucker how we do business over here.

Shark throws an elbow at the camera lens as if it is Charlie’s face. He then keeps walking, his voice trailing off with a smirk.

Shark: Wonder where Summer’s fine ass at too.




Plumes of Blue and White pyrotechnics shoot out from tubes around the makeshift entry ramp on the stage and mark the start of our show. Finally, after the fallout of MAY DAY 3, XWF has returned to SELL OUT the near 400 person capacity (throughout the bottom and top halls) of the David McKeever Post 64 for this edition of Thursday Night ANARCHY!!! Even still, there are hundreds, nay, millions more who are watching and streaming LIVE from their homes!!!

As soon as the pyros finish, "Lithium" by Nirvana hits over the speakers, officially welcoming XWF fans to yet another edition of their favorite syndicated full-contact wrestling show, Anarchy. The Anarchy announce team is at ringside, preparing for a night filled with action!!  With "Lithium" still playing over the speakers the cameras pan around to those few lucky and avid members of the Anarchy faithful from all ages, races, creeds & colors screaming on the tops of their lungs, proudly wearing their XWF Merchandise and holding up signs for their favorite (or least favorite) stars:


WE LOVE YOU BAMA T.!

SOLEMN INCLINE #1

KING YORK - CANADIAN REVOLUTION CHAMPION

THIS IS A #TACTFACT

I ONLY CAME TO SEE SUMMER PAGE

"CAVORTIN" THAT B*TCH JOSEPH GORDON-LEVITT

BOBBY + DR. OZ = DOBBY

MICHEAL GRAVES (ALLEGEDLY) STOLE MY OTHER SIGN


The fans inside the David Mckeever Post 64 here in Buffalo, New York are absolutely raging and ready to get the action of XWF’s Anarchy underway! They have packed the arena hours before bell time, anticipating one of the best shows of the year.

The hard cam pans around the arena catching glimpses of the excitement in the joint.

TODD: Ladies and Gentlemen welcome to...

As the camera looks further around the arena you begin seeing banners for another promotions “Pro Wrestling Valor”. The teal blue banners hang from the ceiling, guardrails and just about everywhere the eye can see.

“#BEDLAM5”, “PWV” and “Valor” are just some of the words on the custom-made banners that have been strewn everywhere.

TODD: Well, I was going to say XWF Anarchy, but by the looks of things, maybe we're being taken over?

BAMA: On my last show? What the FU—

The camera goes back to panning over the bloodthirsty fans, going around the packed Legion Hall before landing on Todd Moschitti and Bama T. at their commentary table at ringside. Todd adjusts his headset while Bama T. cracks his knuckles, looking ready to fight whoever hung all this Pro-Wrestling Valor paraphernalia.

TODD: Anyway, Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Thursday Night Anarchy! As always, I’m Todd Moschitti, and next to me is my partner in chaos, Bama T.! We’ve got-

BAMA: Before we even get started. Yes, the rumors that you heard are true. Rebellion will officially be my last show with the XWF. Which means...

TODD: Tonight is your last Anarchy. Ever. Possibly. Maybe.

BAMA: That's right. Not possibly. No maybes. Last Anarchy ever.

TODD: Well, I said this to ya in the back, but I'm going to miss working with you, buddy.

BAMA: You, too. But don't you worry about me, Toddster. It's private island livin' from here until sunset, baby! Someplace where it's always five o'clock, if you know what I mean. But I'll still check in on ya from time to time. Make sure you're still holding up on your end. Don't let me catch you slackin'!

TODD: Haha, I'm never slacking here on the A-Show. And I appreciate you checking in on me Bama-man. But speaking of the show, we've got a hell of a Thursday Night for everyone here tonight, in the Buffalo American Legion Hall no. 64, dedicated to Army Spc. David M. McKeever, who paid the ultimate price back during Operation Iraqi Freedom.

BAMA: It's a great venue with a lot of history, just like our XWF. Originally built back in 1920 as The Capitol Theatre, it's still in use 105 years later. This place is a tough as nails and built like a brick shithouse. We've got fans packed throughout the lower hall and another hundred or so watching from above in the upper hall, enjoying a full-service bar and snack menu. I'm actually a bit jealous.

TODD: It's a great view for sure. An excellent place to witness our new Revolution Champion Justin York defend his, ahem, updated Maple Leaf Revolution championship title against Layota Hixx in what is sure to be a no-holds barred slugfest! And apparently someone is excited to see the Pro-Wrestling Valor owner in action...

BAMA: I hope they keep it in the ring, or else I hope Bashmaster has us paid up on our insurance premiums. I don't think there's any room for the fans to get out of the way. Unless its PWV's wannabe Banksy. Then by all means, I hope he or she gets choked out with one of their own cheap banners.

TODD: He doesn't mean that, folks. But hey, after that we'll witness Summer Page take on Solomon Kline in a best of two-out-of-three falls contest. Both of these superstars really looking to secure a much-needed victory to line themselves up for potential gold in their futures.

BAMA: Talk about giving the fans their money's worth. It'll be a test to Kline and Page's stamina, grit, and determination, especially if it ends up going to a third fall. Kline just recently picked up a much-needed win over Hixx at Warfare. But pride is one thing. Gold is what Summer and Solomon are both after.

TODD: So true, Bamaman. And then in our main event, your last Main Event, T, we've got the Anarchy Tag Team Champions, Bobby Bourbon and Thunder Knuckles... except, well, Bobby will be teaming with Oz to take on "Cavortin'" Jake Borden and Larry Tact...

BAMA: Yes, Todd, and this one's special, because Jake and Tact will have Roger in their corner as their manager, while Bourbon and Oz will have TK in theirs. The only way to win this match is to have your opponent's manager throw in the towel! I love it!

TODD: And I'm telling you right now Bama, someone is going to have to hurt somebody really bad to force either TK or Roger to throw in the towel and effectively submit for their team. On paper, it seems like a straight-forward tag match, but it could end up a bloodbath in a hurry.

BAMA: I've got to give Bashmaster credit. He knows how to give the Anarchy fans what they want.

TODD: Even if he works for the Oligarchy.

BAMA: Can we prove that, though, Todderick?

TODD: Well, no. Not really. But it is the General Manager's job to motivate the stars to put their bodies on the line.

BAMA: This is XWF, Todd. We fight for pride! We fight for honor! We fight for-

TODD: Valor?

BAMA: F- that. I don't even know what a Bedlam 5 is!

TODD: It's... well, it's... uhh, nevermind. Let's focus on you tonight, friend! The Long-Island Bama Teas are being served fresh on ice upstairs, and the action is about to be served in this very ring! Stick with us, because XWF Thursday Night Anarchy is about to-

Suddenly the X-tron airs a banner and a promotional video for Valor's upcoming event, Bedlam 5, featuring some of the world's top talents and all three titles on the line. Once the video is finished, we quickly cut to a shot backstage. The Revolution Champion and Pro Wrestling Valor owner is walking through the hallway with several assistants carrying banners and he’s taping them to locker room doors and all over the walls, just about everywhere the eye can see.

York notices the camera shot is directly on him and so he stops what he’s doing and with a giant shit eating grin he adjusts the custom-made Revolution title around his waist and stares directly into the camera.

Justin York: Oh.. Hey there.. THADDEUS. I told you at Mayday that this was my fucking brand now. You have paid it so little attention and so little affection that it was nearly drowning. That is until I swooped in and saved your hide. I custom made a title to replace that piece of garbage that you had Matthias walking around with for the better part of a year and you know what? It’s garnered more eyes than anything your roster has done in years.

TODD: The arrogance— I think we've found your wannabe Banksy at the scene of the crime, T!

BAMA: Justin York did this? I'm gonna... I'M GONNA... congratulate him!

TODD: What?

BAMA: Kudos, King! Well done! Your banners look impeccable! Keep up the great work!

TODD: But he's advertising his brand on our show!

BAMA: And yet he is our champion. Now put some respect on the Revolution Champion's name and be quiet while he speaks.

Justin York: I promised you that I’d make this brand worthy of something and I lived up to that as I do with every goddamn thing I say I’m going to do. Only if the same could be said for you. I also promised you that I’d force you to show THE brand in the XWF some attention instead of having Warfare rammed up your ass like a buttplug. What better way to do so than to promote a company with an owner that cares for every piece of it like Valor, like me. What kind of fucking COO only shows his face on one of the company’s shows? Do you believe you’re too damn good, you stuck up little bastard? If this doesn’t drag your sorry to my brand and prove to the XWF faithful that you’re a man worthy of running a multi-billion dollar wrestling promotion and one that cares to defend the honor of the promotion you run then you’re just what I’ve always said you were, a nutless prick! Maybe you left your coin purse in Sahara’s handbag through the divorce! This is just the beginning Thaddeus, the games have only just begun. I know you’ll get a clip of this whilst sitting with Lucy pretending you’re superior to the entire world and it’ll strike you where it hurts but play it off like you always do because “nothing and nobody ever gets to you.” Now watch as I defend the honor of Anarchy, of the XWF and walk out of here once again with this gorgeous title! Ta ta for now!

York pounds on the title around his waist and then proceeds with hanging his banners all over the arena with not one person willing to stop him.

TODD: I’ve never met a man as ignorant as him. He’s flicking a hornet's nest playing with Mr. Duke. I don't want to hear anyone cry when he gets stung.

BAMA: I have no disagreements on the sentiment, but I like the bold play here. Justin York is proving to be a man of his word. He's putting his money where his mouth is.

TODD: He's putting Pro-Wrestling Valor where our XWF is!

BAMA: And that's why the "A" in the A-show stands for "Advertising", Todderick. York gets it. Now he's called out the COO and challenged him outright on it. The ball is in Thaddeus's court to respond.

TODD: I don't like it. There's a lot of bad that can come from this, but that's up to Mister Duke now. Are the tides of change truly rising? I guess we'll have to find out more... right after these messages!

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[Image: 2YpaDqV.png]

XWF REBELLION '25

(Limited) Premium Tickets Still Available*
Buy only Verified™ XWF Tickets on site or at XWF99.com!

All Championships will be on the line!*
In Action:
The Real Universal Champion - James Shark
The Holder of the Universal Championship Belt - "The Nickleman" Charlie Nickles
24/7 Xtreme Champion - Madison Dyson
XWF Tag-Team Champion - Also Madison Dyson
XWF Tag-Team Champion - Dolly Waters
Anarchy Champion - Micheal Graves(?)
Anarchy Tag-Team Champions - Them No Good Bastards
The Televison Champion!!*
The Double-Moose Revolution Champion!!*
& many more!

Also Appearing:*
The Lesser-Known Members of The Legendary Rock Band Aerosmith
Matt Damon & Ben Affleck as one
New York Knicks Basketball Ambassador Patrick Ewing
Comedian Amy Poehler
The Ghost of Robert Frost**
Latoya Hixx

*Subject to Change
**Not Available for Autographs or Flash Photography

[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: And we're back!

BAMA: That didn't take too long.

TODD: No. But we are going through a crazy part of our schedule right now, with May Day at the beginning of the month and now we're already staring down Rebellion on June 1st.

BAMA: The weather's heating up, and so are we. I'm telling ya, we're going to sell-out Fenway Park. I can feel it.

TODD: Absolutely. And speaking of heating up, tonight's action is about to get underway, where Justin York will look to defend his brand-new title belt against one of the hungriest competitors we have in Layota Hixx!


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

TODD: Making her way to the ring first is the challenger, of course. And did my eyes deceive me, Bama, or did Hixx slap a few fans on her way to the ring?

BAMA: Huh? Wha? Like 'slap their hands' slap them?

TODD: I guess? It's hard to say. The fans reacted like she was coming at them swinging!

BAMA: It has to be. Otherwise, I expect Hixx to be fined, suspended, and thrown under the jail. We don't hit fans here in the XWF, unless they jump the barricade first.

TODD: She's been living backstage for a few days, possibly weeks, leading up to this event, T. That's what Steve Sayors said, anyway. Rumor has it Layota even tried to fight the octogenarians during last Saturday's McKeever Post Bingo Night, demanding to know where Justin York was!

BAMA: That... sounds like something she would do, sadly. But hey, look on the bright side. At least her patience has paid off, she doesn't have that much longer to wait, Todderick!

TODD: Perhaps Layota can score a Bingo tonight and walk out the new Revolution Champion?

BAMA: ...

TODD: I'll see myself out.


One for the money rings throughout the arena as JY steps out from behind the curtain with a kings crown on. He stands center stage and takes in all of the boo’s before adjusting his crown with a smirk and heading down to the ring.

BAMA: Got to hand it to King Justin York. The man looks all kitted out with fresh gold and a crown that's custom fit for him and him alone.

TODD: Not going to lie to you, Bama-man, I'm still a bit peeved that Justin York promotes PWV as much, if not more than the XWF.

BAMA: Why shouldn't he?

Ring Announcer: INTROOODUUUUCINGGGG The One, The Only. He hails from TOOOROOONTOOO ONTARIOOOO CANADAAAAA, HE IS THE REVOLUTION CHAMPION, KING JUUUUUSTIIINNN YOOOOOORK!

York enters the ring and stand on the middle ropes and holds his crown high in the air while giving a death stare into the crowd.

TODD: Maybe because he's on XWF Anarchy...

BAMA: Ohh, Todd. Never thought I'd see the day where I'd be the one telling you to get with the times.

TODD: What does that have to do with anything?

BAMA: It's 2025 my guy. Loyalty to promotions is so old school. Individuals are the brand now. Social Media. Twitter. Instagram. BlueSky!

The official raises the Revolution title between the competitors, before handing it off to the timekeeper!

The bell rings!


REVOLUTION CHAMPIONSHIP
JUSTIN YORK©
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX
NO HOLDS BARRED

Justin York stands dead center in the ring, looking his opponent up and down.

A sly, lopsided smirk creeps across his lips as he slowly raises his arms above his head and beckons the crowd to boo!

They oblige, soaking “King” York in a very mixed reaction from the XWF Universe, which he seems to savor thoroughly.

BAMA: Seems like the Buffalonians in attendance agree with you, Todderick.

TODD: Honestly it takes a lot to have your opponent literally take swings at the live audience before the match and you're still the one they boo.

BAMA: It's disrespectful. We're so close to Canada, that this is almost a hometown match for King York!

York glances briefly at Latoya Hixx, who eyes him earnestly, ready to fight the match of her life…

York then dramatically yawns and beckons Hixx forward like she’s barely worth his effort.

Latoya snarls, her thick jaw clenched and nostrils flaring like a bull. Her body tenses with impatient fury, her massive frame bouncing in place as she pounds her fists together, trying to psych herself up.

…York coos, tsk-tsking like Hixx wanting his belt is adorable. He raises his arms, offering her a test of strength…

Hixx nods, stepping forward to obli-

WHAM!

York drives a FOREARM straight into Hixx’s jaw! Her legs jellify under her as she stumbles backwards into the ropes…

Despite his challenger looking vulnerable, York again circles the ring, beckoning the crowd to boo harder, clearly more focused on the crowd than his opponent.

TODD: York playing mind games here in the early going. And it's not winning the Pro Wrestling Valor owner any favors.

BAMA: It's the perfect strategy. You said so yourself: Hixx has been waiting for this opportunity all week, or longer. Why wouldn't King York the Revolutionary use that against his challenger?

Beside the ropes, Latoya blinks in shock, rubbing her jaw, sore from York’s underhanded strike. Her brows furrow, confused that she didn’t see it coming.

Hixx shakes it off and charges—but York sidesteps her like a matador, as she ends up with her back to the corner!

…But again, rather than close in on his cornered opponent, he continues taunting the arena! He grins ear-to-ear as he shouts straight into the hard cam, “You watching this, Thaddeus?! You see all these eyes on MY show?!”

The crowd voices their emphatic disapproval.

TODD: He better keep his eyes on the prize, here.

…Hixx’s brow furrows with anger. That old temper of hers is starting to show…

…But she takes a deep breath. She can’t let this title match slip! She’s gotta focus!

BAMA: Relax. Justin York is fine. He didn't overcome the longest reigning Revolution Champion in history because he's a slouch in the ring.

She charges out of the corner, looking to grapple with York! York doesn’t even try to evade her…

Hixx gets a hold of him in a collar-and-elbow tie-up…

Until York spreads his arms wide! Breaking Latoya’s grip and…

SMACK! York catches Latoya with a slap on the back of the head, straight out of a schoolyard bully’s playbook.

Hixx doubles over, rubbing the back of her head as York stands over her, muttering something to Hixx the camera doesn’t catch…

Latoya’s face twists into embarrassment… then rage!

Hixx tries to catch the champion off-guard, she swings blindly with a wild haymaker!

…NO! York ducks under! Hixx’s wild swing rotates her until her back’s to York! York, with the giddy delight of a child opening a present, takes her undefended back, hooks his arms around her waist…

And SNAP her overhead!

GERMAN SUPLEX!

York holds the bridge! The official drops t-

Hixx kicks o-... Wait, no! York just released the bridge!

Hixx cradles her aching neck as York circles around the ring, beckoning more and more response from the crowd! He stands on the turnbuckle, demanding their volume be greater and greater!

BAMA: Behold. This is excellence in motion, Todderick.

TODD: This is a bully doing little more than pissing his opponent off and not taking her seriously.

BAMA: But it's Hixx...

TODD: I don't care, man. Any given Thursday!

BAMA: Justin York isn't just out here to defend his title. He's out here to make a statement.

Latoya lies flat on the mat, stunned. Her fingers twitch. Her eyes flutter as she tries to orient herself. York meanwhile stands tall on the turnbuckle, arms spread arrogantly. “You see that? Technical EXCELLENCE. You think THADDEUS DUKE could throw a german like THAT!?!”

…York chuckles to himself as the crowd starts a full-in “FUCK YOU YORK! FUCK YOU YORK!” chant… The official has started a count for Justin’s extended stay on the ropes, but Justin’s careful to break the five-count before a DQ.

TODD: York being warned by the referee here to get back into the ring. For some reason, the guy who has done whatever he damn well pleased since he arrived obliges.

BAMA: The Revolution Champion won't change hands on a DQ, sure. But this is about attention! TV time!

TODD: Shouting through the cameras at Mister Duke?

BAMA: Precisely!

York smacks his hands together, as if ready to give the crowd the show they came for…

Hixx shakes off the cobwebs, slowly rising to her feet, as York lackadaisically walks over to finisher her off…

York grabs Hixx by the hair, dragging her up to her fe-

WHAM! From outta nowhere, Latoya drives her skull STRAIGHT into York’s orbital bone!

DESPERATION HEADBUTT!

TODD: Whoa!

York’s cocky smirk vanishes into a sudden, dazed scowl… The champ stumbles back into the corner, blinking stars from his eyes!

Latoya’s skull clearly didn’t go undamaged from that headbutt... Latoya's head hangs heavy, woozy from that strike AND York’s early dominance… But she knows this is her only chance! She shoves herself off the mat, giving this charge all she’s got!

York squeezes the bridge of his nose, pain emanating through his aching skull… Finally, he manages to clear enough stars out of his eyes…

To see the runaway freight train that is Latoya Hixx coming at him!

CORNER SPLASH!

…

CONNECTS!

Hixx EMBEDS the Revolution champion into the corner, using her bodybuilder mass masterfully! York crumples against the turnbuckles, looking like the air got crushed out of him!

TODD: Don't look now, Bama, but your boy's strategy may have just started to backfire!

BAMA: I never said that he should take his victory for granted...

TODD: It's not much of a statement for the bully to get what's coming to them, eh?

The crowd goes absolutely electric for the possibility of Latoya Hixx’s first championship win (and also someone shutting up Justin York)... Hixx grasps York by the top of the head to drag him out of the corner…

WHAM! York catches her with a gut punch! Hixx doubles over, staggering back toward the center of the ring!

…York sneers furiously, angry that this insolent ingrate dares to challenge him! He charges at Hixx looking to finish her…

CLOTHESLINE FROM HELL!

…

NO! Hixx ducked under! Catching York under the breastbone… And using his forward momentum to heave him off his feet! Into powerslam position!

The crowd rumbles, electricity coursing through every seat in the house as Hixx…

Hucks York backwards over her head!

FALLAWAY SLAM!

York gets flung like a sack of Toronto potatoes from one of end of the ring to the other!

TODD: She's building momentum, Bama!

BAMA: This is not looking good. Come on, York! Dig down deep!

TODD: I can't believe you're rooting for this man.

BAMA: I'm a realist.

The crowd erupts as Latoya screams out in adrenaline-fueled triumph! She slams her fists against her chest, then locks eyes on York, who’s slowly crawling to his knees.

Hixx charges—and BICYCLE KICK!

…

CONNECTS! The crowd is stunned! Is this really happening?!?

York snaps backward and crashes flat.

ONE!

TWO!!

THRE-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

York kicks out at 2.9! His eyes burst open in panic, as if it just dawned on him what it’d do to his claims of kingliness if he ate a loss tonight to Latoya Hixx.

TODD: OHHH! That just almost really happened!

BAMA: Layota Hixx almost won her first championship here in the XWF.

TODD: Well, according to York's belt, she'd be representing PWV too.

BAMA: Oh lord. Come on, York! Get your head outta your-

Latoya sits up, panting hard, eyes wide with disbelief. Her face twists—not just in frustration, but hope. Her fists shake as she gets to her feet, full of determination!

She grips York by the ankle…

But York, with veteran tact, rolls away to the ropes! Hixx tries to drag him away from the ropes, but the official steps up to break the action until York is out of the ropes!

Hixx tries to reach through the official, clearly sensing this is her moment to strike, trying to tear York away from the ropes…

But York reaches a hand over the official!

And jams a thumb into Hixx’s eye!

TODD: No! That bastard!

Hixx goes to cover her face, blinded! The official manages to push Hixx away from the champ, having completely missed the blatant cheating that took place inches above his head.

York breathes a sigh of relief from the ropes… He approaches Hixx cockily from behind as she tries to rub her eyes back to normal…

York grabs Hixx by the back of the skull! And goes to whip her around! Front-facelock!

He points to the sky!

CANADIAN BRAINBU-

NO!

Hixx manages to hook her heel around York’s ankle, blocking York’s finisher!

York is caught off-guard, not expecting the typically limited skillset of Hixx to permit her to block his move!

Hixx’s eyes flash with wild defiance! This is her chance!

She breaks York’s grip, just like he did to her earlier…

York’s hands go to strikes both sides of his opponent’s skull!

EAR CL-

NO!

Hixx’s dips under the strike… And her arms snake around York's torso!

BEAR HUG!

The arena explodes! Hixx has locked in her signature submission maneuver!

BAMA: You have got to be kidding me!

TODD: Upset alert! Upset alert! This could all be over for King York!

BAMA: I swear, y'all won't let me ride off into the sunset easily.

York’s eyes bulge, mouth open in a silent yell. His spine bends. His arms flail. Latoya shakes him like a ragdoll, sweat pouring off her face as she screams through gritted teeth, summoning every ounce of strength she has.

…His arm raises…

…

Will it fall?

…

NO!

…

York’s fingers claw at her shoulders, then his face hardens with steely resolve.

He reels his neck back…

HEADBUTT!

Latoya’s grip loosens… her arm strength starts to falter!

HEADBUTT!

She stumbles, her eyes glazed over.

HEADBUTT!

BAMA: He's fighting back!

Hixx lets go. And drops to a knee.

York staggers back, wiping blood from his brow, his face a mixture of fury and desperation. He wraps Latoya in a front facelock, and snap her up into the air…

CANADIAN BRAINBUSTER!

BOOM. Skull meets mat.

York crawls over, snarling through the pain.

ONE!

TWO!!

THREE!!!

TODD: Oh, damn.

Winner and still XWF Revolution Champion: “King” Justin York!

York rolls to the ropes, barely able to stand. The referee raises his arm, but he swats it away. He stands over the fallen Latoya, chest heaving. Then—classic York—he sneers and raises his arms once more, looking straight into the camera.

"That one was for you, Thaddeus."

TODD: Yeah, yeah. And you gotta throw one last jab at Mr. Duke. So much for a statement victory.

BAMA: Years from now, all anyone is going to remember was that on my final night with the company, King Justin York successfully defended his Revolution Championship.

TODD: He better count his lucky stars he didn't fumble it.

BAMA: Listen. It ain't easy climbing up that ladder. You gotta scratch, claw, fight for every bit of attention you receive. You can be upset all you want, but Hixx had her chance. And before it's all said and done, she'll probably have a thousand more.

TODD: That's true.

BAMA: York came to Anarchy to send a message. Now I can't wait for Rebellion to see if that message was received.

TODD: Oh, there may be hell to pay at Rebellion. But like you said, we'll have to wait and see... hold on a second, I'm being told we're being interrup-

[Image: wireline.png]

The Camera pans from York successfully defending his Revolution Title to the locker room…

Where, in the back, who is watching the action?

But Warfare GM Peter Principle and Assistant Warfare GM Pip Collins.

”What about him? Justin York’s been on the hottest streak. AND he’s a “King.” Pip muses thoughtfully. ”He might be the perfect opponent for lil Comrade Waters and the end of her movement ‘giving the power back to the ‘People.” Pip punctuates his perspective with finger-quotes.

”Pfffff.” Principle scoffs, dismissively. ”After the way he opened the show? Taking pot-shots on Mister Duke’s management? Are you even thinking?”

”I mean, if I’m not, who is?”

”What?”

”Hmm?”

…

”No.” Principle turns back to the monitor. ”We need an opponent that is amenable to the status quo. That DOESN’T remind the audience constantly about their issues with management. York may be self-interested, but he’s a different manifestation of the same disease.”

”These EMPLOYEES… biting the hand that feeds.”

”We need someone willing to bend the knee. Someone that will embarrass Dolly Waters so completely in the ring, that Thaddeus Duke will have NO CHOICE but to accept my decision to terminate her contract.”

”...Wow. That’s… extreme.”

”We’re in the land of X-Treme, Pip. It took me a while to learn that, but it’s a lesson I won’t forget any time soon.”

…

”Hmm. I mean, if you’re looking for a minion who would do anything you say for a title shot, Latoya Hixx was also in that match.”

”If you keep barking out poor suggestions, Collins? Dolly’s not the only one hitting the unemployment line after Rebellion.”

…

Collins side-eyes Principle, surprised…

As the feed cuts to commercial.

[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: What the hell was that?

BAMA: Chill out, Todderick. I'm about to do my thing here-

TODD: First we have PWV trying to take over. Now the Warfare General Manager and his Co-GM want to take up our airtime too?

BAMA: It's not that big of a deal.

TODD: They had their show this week. They had their time. This is our time, Bama-man!

BAMA: You're cutting into my time now, Todderick.

TODD: What?

BAMA: You know, the new thing I am about to debut?

TODD: Oh?

BAMA: ...

TODD: OH! Oh, right! Sorry!

BAMA: ...

TODD: Please, continue!

BAMA: Sheesh. Ladies and Gentlemen, it is finally my honor and privilege to announce to you, our very first recipient of the XWF Anarchy Superstar Spotlight... it is our very own Marisol Vilaro!

Anarchy Superstar Spotlight
[Image: sBl6cUO.png]

BAMA: Are you sick and tired of being sick and tired? Well then, do yourself a favor. Get that big fat you-know-what off of the couch, after Anarchy, and waddle yourself right into the VilaroFit™ system!

Marisol Vilaro is not just a valued member of the A-show brand. No, no, no! Behind the beautiful eyes of this Barcelona native lies a fire and a passion rarely seen outside of the competitive realm. Marisol used that passion to develop her body into a fierce, lean, fighting machine! But through all her trials and tribulations, Vilaro still maintained passion and empathy for her fellow man.

That's why she openly sells her patented, fully developed and tested VilaroFit™ system to the masses like you! Not just for profit, but so that you may benefit from her knowledge and wisdom as well. So once again, I urge you. Take time out of your miserable life to shed those unwanted tons. Become less of yourself. Put the cheeseburger down and order a VilaroFit™ Fitness Package today!

Use the code: "A-Show Fitness Goddess" to receive 6.9 percent off of your entire order!

TODD: Nice.

BAMA: And if you think you can do any better than Marisol Vilaro and her Black Rainbow brethren, well then, sign your big ass up for Anarchy right now and step into the ring with the likes of Marisol and many, many others who will probably crush you in the first five seconds - because you didn't order your VilaroFit™ system you fat piece of...!

TODD: DVD player and TV sold separately.

BAMA: Of course they're sold separately, Todderick. But the first 1000 orders will get a cheaply made XWF travel mug thrown in... so you can choke down your VilaroFit™ protein powder shake like our hunter-gatherer ancestors would have wanted you to.

TODD: Perfect.

BAMA: You think so?

TODD: I could've said it any better myself, Bama-man.

BAMA: You couldn't. That's why they asked me to do it!

TODD: Congratulations to Marisol Vilaro! We here at Anarchy love and appreciate everything you bring to our brand! With that being said, though, I'm getting word that something else is going on backstage... we'll take you there right now before we get interrupted aga-!

[Image: wireline.png]

“Spoiled” Summer Page is sitting in a chair in an empty room backstage of the David Mckeever Post 64 bingo hall in Buffalo, New York. As she is on her phone she looks a bit annoyed while she listens to the person on the other end of the line.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: Let me tell you this once again, Richard, that despite what Shark thinks and says our “relationship” is nothing more than just business…

Richard Powers: And like I’ve said many times before, Mi Amour, that I will always love you but you cannot cheat on me with another man. Especially a man like Shark…

“Spoiled” Summer Page: I’M NOT IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH YOU OR SHARK, RICHARD!!!!

Richard Powers: You can be as mean as you are beautiful, my goddess.

Summer stands up and kicks the wall in frustration.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: Why do I allow you to continue to talk to me? You’re old, creepy, a pervert, unhygienic, broke, and don’t respect boundaries….

Richard Powers: Pfffft, boundaries? Those don’t apply to me…

“Spoiled” Summer Page: Explains why Thaddeus got one over on you!!!

Richard Powers: Ouch! Mi Amour! Just when I think you can’t break my heart anymore…

“Spoiled” Summer Page: Shut up!!!! I have a fiance that isn’t you and surely isn’t Shark!!!

Summer turns around to see Shark standing in the doorway holding a bouquet of red roses.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: OMG WHY?!?!?!

Richard Powers: I always knew you’d come around…

Shark walks in as Summer shakes her head.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: Wait? What? No not you, Richard! I’ve got to go.

Richard Powers: I love you, too.

Summer hangs up her phone.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: What the hell are you doing?

Shark has an immediate stink face before he looks over his shoulders. Once he realizes Summer’s comments are directed towards him he shakes his head and drops the bouquet of roses down onto a table in front of her.

Shark: Listen girl, you gon’ have to lose that attitude. You can talk to that smelly frenchy Richard like that and Craig all you want but I ain’t them.

He walks around the chair so that he is behind her, he begins to give her shoulders a deep massage.

Shark: I get it. You tense. But look it - last time was my bad on the roses. I shouldn’t have sent them over like that. I wasn’t tryin’ to put you in the difficult position with that bot you stay with. That’s why this time I’m deliverin’ em personally.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: Are you telling me you get all your friends and business associates flowers? Including the male friends and business associates?

Summer crosses her arms and gives Shark the evil eye.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: Because if you can show me that you do then I’ll stop giving you a hard time about always giving me flowers.

Shark closes his eyes looking annoyed, he takes a deep breath before reopening them. His grip loosens on her shoulders, his hands fall to his hips.

Shark: Summer your fine ass couldn’t stop givin’ me a “HARD” time if you tried.

He chuckles after emphasizing the word hard. He then spins her chair around so that she is facing him. He squats down so that they are eye to eye, face to face.

Shark: You don’t want the goddamn flowers? Fine. Give em’ to Solomon for his funeral because you dropped the ball on winning the Revolution Championship last show and you need to put that man in the dirt now to send a message.

There’s some fire in his eyes. The same fire he’s had in his last few matches. He wants that for her, she can tell.

Shark: Instead of all the bullshit you be givin’ me you should be showin’ me some love and appreciation because I’m still out here givin’ you the time of day with these losses you been havin’. But that’s what real friends are for right, Summer? Through thick and thin.

He gives her a big smile then rises up to his feet.

Shark: Now if you done hangin’ around this small, empty room… I’d like to show you something.

He reaches out and extends his hand to her so that she can grab it. That big smile still on his face. Summer looks at Shark’s face then looks at his extended hand, and looks back at his face.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: Why do I need to hold your hand to walk with you?

Summer crosses her arms and glares at Shark. Shark sucks his teeth and fights the temptation to frown. He watches as she crosses her arms as if to protect her hand.

Shark: Because we buddies, Summer. Why you makin’ everything so weird? You afraid of what people think? I took you as a bad bitch that didn’t give a shit. You can shake a million dirty, greasy, hot dog hands from sweaty, fat men and women at meet and greets but can’t hold my clean, coconut lotioned hand for 30 seconds?

He waves his hand closer to her. Summer moves her arm back.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: Do you take me for a basic bitch who is going to fall for that lame ass peer pressure? If you want to show me something then lead the way. I’ll follow.

His hand stops waving near her throat, it freezes, forms into a gripping gesture. He shakes it as if he is fighting back the urge to strangle her, he takes a big deep breath and puts his hand down to his side.

Shark: The patience I got to have with you I swear to God.

He raises his leg up and brings his foot crashing down as he does a little footstomp.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: What? I have a man and I ain’t like these skanks you get with….

Shark: No. You don’t got a "man"…

Shark mutters then spins around and begins to stomp out of the room, looking like a damn child. Summer rolls her eyes as she begins to follow him and they stop at a door. It is a big fancy metal door that has the nameplates: JAMES SHARK and SUMMER PAGE in the middle outlined by a big gold heart. Shark scratches his head in confusion.

Shark: Whaaaaaaaat????

He looks closely and confused at the gold heart, even touching it as he can’t believe it’s on there. He turns to look at Summer.

Shark: That’s so weird. Who the hell put that there?? Not me.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: Yeah, I’m sure you have no idea how that happened.

Summer rolls her eyes as Shark turns the knob and slowly opens the door.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: What’s this?

Shark doesn’t say anything, he just nods his head into the room for her to find out for herself. She’s hesitant but takes a step in. The first thing that could be noticed was the RGB lighting coming from the thundercloud effect on the ceiling. Upon entry there was a big banner on the wall featuring them.


There were leather couches along the walls and a mini bar in the corner, Summer could even spot an air hockey table. As she walked further in she could see on one end of the room was a big locker that had her name on it and on the other end was Shark’s locker. No divide as she had requested.

Shark begins to jump up and down behind her.

Shark: Well ????? What you think ???? Did I snap or DID I SNAP !???

Summer looks around in disbelief.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: DAMN! As someone who grew up in lavish monstrosities this is some kind of monstrosity…

Shark stops jumping, he tilts his head to the side like a confused dog.

Shark: Say what??… monstru….monstrsio…

He has trouble saying the word as it wasn’t part of his vocabulary, he gives up and shakes his head.

Shark: The hell that supposed to mean, are you talking shit or do you fuck with it!??

A stunned Summer continues to look around.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: Will you stop being so damn sensitive?!?! This is just a lot…Especially for an event at a bingo hall!

Shark: Bingo hall, stadium, backyard it don’t matter. This our locker room now wherever we make an appearance.

The camera follows Summer as she continues to explore the room before the camera turns to the large banner of the two of them. As the camera zooms into the banner the audience can hear Summer go “Wait… Why is it one big room and not two rooms like we agreed!?” before the scene fades to black.

[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: What is up with all of the banners here tonight?

BAMA: Again. One of our champions. James Shark can hang any banner he wants wherever he damn-well pleases.

TODD: I don't necessarily disagree, T. I'm just saying it's an odd bit of coincidence. Every time I look around I see 12 more PWV banners, and now this?

BAMA: Yeah, but that 'All Eyes on Us' banner is pretty fire though, Todderick. I think the Universal Champ's graphics department needs a bonus. God damn that looks good!

TODD: It seems like Shark and Summer are still figuring out some of the finer details of potentially sharing a locker room.

BAMA: Oh boy, Shark's trying to get into more than just Summer's locker room, if you know what I'm saying.

TODD: What?

BAMA: What?

TODD: Regardless, Summer Page has bigger things to worry about right now in the form of Solomon Kline, because her two out of three falls match with him is coming up, next!


"Forgotten" by The Plot In You plays throughout the arena. The lights go out. Once the beat drops, a spotlight shines on the entryway, where SOLOMON KLINE appears inside the light, clad in a black hoodie over his ring gear and kneeling on his right knee.

TODD: Making his way to the ring first is the Second-Generation superstar Solomon Kline. You can see it in his eyes that he knows he's about to go through war.

BAMA: The self-proclaimed Rookie of the Year has an uphill battle ahead of him to reach that mark. But a victory here tonight would go a long way towards cementing his case for a Rookie of the Year nod.

TODD: We know Solomon wants to impress. He's a young man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. But every week, every show, Solomon figures out a bit more, gradual but steady improvement.

BAMA: I wouldn't be surprised to look up a year or two from now and see Kline in the same spot that James Shark is in right now.

TODD: Me either!

As the lyrics come in, he stands, removes his hood and surveys the crowd as sparks rain down around him. He grooves his way toward the ring, and high fives fans along the way. He circles the ring and slides under the bottom rope. He continues rocking out to the song and at the 1:50 mark, he goes to the turnbuckle with a primal scream as the lyrics say "I have spent my life chasing things that have only brought me pain. In the end when I'm dead, hope it was for something!"

He returns to the ring and readies himself for the match.


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: And his opponent, Summer Page, looks ready as ever.

BAMA: Why wouldn't she be? She's been hyped up by the highest champion in the land of the x-treme. If anyone can help you get your head in the game, it's Mister Trash Talk Royalty himself!

TODD: Shark sees something in her, I'll give you that. I have my doubts that Shark's interest is purely plutonic and professional, but if-

BAMA: Hey hey hey- Don't you dare put words in our Universal Champion's mouth!

TODD: Ugh. Well, what I was going to say is, Summer has been this close to being an XWF champion in her own right. If James Shark can help her achieve her dreams, I'm sure she'll take whatever hype or advice she can get!

BAMA: I'll settle for taking access to his graphics department. God damn!

TODD: Good freakin' luck, Bama-man. You ain't nearly as pretty as Summer Page!

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.

SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
SOLOMON KLINE
BEST TWO OUT OF THREE FALLS

Once the bell rings, Summer Page and Solomon Kline being circling one another.

They lock up—tight collar and elbow. Solomon grits his teeth, muscles bulging as he tries to push her back, only for Summer to plant her heels and twist with sharp technique, slipping into a wristlock, before twisting it into a hammerlock!

Summer’s face is still, but her narrowed eyes track every reaction Solomon gives, measuring. Solomon winces, sucking air through his teeth…

Summer tries to apply additional pressure on the arm…

But Solomon twists his arm, ducking under Summer’s! He follows it with a swift roll and kip-up and manages to pretzel Summer’s arm into a wristlock of his own!

Summer grits her teeth at the reversal, her eyes darting briefly toward the ropes—calculating. She yanks Solomon toward her, ducking under his arm and taking his back.

When Summer dives forward to attack, Solomon drops to one knee, pulling Summer over in a fireman’s carry!

TODD: A much different start to this match, Bama! From two competitors that clearly respect the other's wrestling prowess.

BAMA: A little bit of catch-as-catch-can classic posturing with the ol' collar-and-elbow and reversals.

TODD: It's a good way to feel your opponent out.

BAMA: I prefer punching my foes in their faces. But to each their own, I imagine.

As Summer hits the mat with a thud, her expression flashes frustration—just a flicker. She and Kline both rise off the mat at the same time, and Summer quickly snatches a side headlock. Solomon tries to shove his way out, but Summer grips tight and forces her weight down, dragging the larger Kline off his feet and onto a knee!

Summer wrenches down, biting her lower lip in determination, intent on keeping the pace slow and technical.

Solomon’s brow furrows contemplatively… pushes up to a base, his eyes darting to the ropes, then plants his foot—lifting Summer up and tossing her toward the ropes with force!

Summer rolls through gracefully into a somersault that stops her from being propelled back into a strike from Solomon. She turns around…

And with a burst of speed, Solomon charges. Summer’s expression shifts to alert surprise, but before she can react, she’s taken off her feet by a thunderous shoulder block!

Summer’s back SLAMS against the mat!

BAMA: Big impact there!

TODD: Kline using his size and strength advantage here.

BAMA: Leverage, too.

TODD: Yeah, sure. Whatever works, right?

BAMA: Hey, it ain't a bad strategy to sometimes hurl your body at your opponent. Especially if you're twice their size.

Solomon’s face contorts into a wild grin. He bounds off the ropes, backflipping into a standing moonsault.

But Summer’s body jerks to the side—too fast for thought, purely reaction! Solomon crashes chest-first into the mat, the air rushing out of him with a dull thud!

TODD: Except this time, it backfired!

BAMA: I'm impressed the 27-year-old can move his body like that.

Summer’s eyes blaze now—controlled aggression. Her lips curl into a cold smile as she grabs Solomon’s arm and twists into a Fujiwara armbar, yanking back. Solomon groans, teeth bared in agony.

Summer adjusts from Solomon’s side to above his back, pressing her knee between his shoulder blades. Her brows knit with ruthless focus!

TODD: I don't think it's meant to move like that, though.

BAMA: Don't insult me, Todderick.

TODD: I didn't mean to!

Solomon claws at the mat, then drives his knee under him, fighting to rise—but Summer shifts again, floating over into a front facelock, dragging him down into a grounded headlock. Her teeth press against her bottom lip as she applies the pressure. Solomon’s face tightens, his breathing labored. He slams a fist to the mat—not in surrender, but rage.

She transitions again—now into a deep seated surfboard, wrenching his shoulders back. Solomon’s jaw opens in a silent yell, back arched unnaturally. But he refuses to quit, shaking his head violently as the referee asks if he’d like to submit!

TODD: Summer Page really working to secure that first fall!

BAMA: Having the first of the potential three falls is a HUGE advantage. Allows you some wiggle room for in case things don't go too well later on.

TODD: Perhaps allows you to take a few more chances to end this contest early?

BAMA: Precisely.

Summer yanks Solomon off his knees by the hair.

Her eyes are gleaming now. It’s time.

Solomon tries to battle for space… But Summer throws a hip to his gut! Kline doubles over winded…

Summer cinches a front facelock, aiming for Pure Perfection.

But Solomon, even dazed, reads it! Kline grunts, planting his feet, shoving her backward hard into the ropes.

BAMA: Countered!

Summer’s surprised gasp leaves her lips as she rebounds. Solomon plants his feet, eyes alight with defiant fury. His fist winds up… And he leaps!

TODD: He's looking for it, Bama!

ASHES TO ASH-

NO! Summer ducks, her face contorted into a tight sneer of awareness. She slides under his arm like silk!

Solomon’s expression twists mid-spin into panic—too much momentum. As he lands, Summer latches on with a waistlock, teeth clenched, muscles taut. She hauls with everything she’s got!

GERMAN SUPL-

NO! Solomon snarls and hooks his ankle around hers! His body tightens, refusing to budge. Summer growls—a rare crack in her mask of poise—and switches strategy, somersaulting backward in a flash into an O’Connor Roll!

She presses down on his legs, every muscle locked, biting her tongue in determination.

ONE!

TW-

Before even a two-count, Solomon rolls backward, twisting and reversing the hold into an O’Connor Roll of his own. His face is tight with resolve, veins in his arms standing out.

ONE!

TWO!

THRE-NO!

Summer kicks out instinctively, her face curled in a snarl as she shoves him away with both boots!

BAMA: Two damn-near falls in a row! That O'Connor Roll is a dangerous game.

TODD: Probably best for Summer to kick out of that one and move on!

Solomon hits the ropes from the force of the kick and bounces back—his eyes burning with a spark of vengeance. Summer rises—

BOOM! ASHES TO ASHES!

Summer’s head snaps back, body spinning to the mat as Solomon drops to a cover, hooking the leg tight, mouth open in a victorious yell.

ONE!


TWO!


THREE!

Solomon Kline: 1
Summer Page: 0


TODD: On second thought, Solomon Kline catches her with the Ashes to Ashes, and takes that huge one-oh advantage!

BAMA: Clutch timing by the second-generation superstar there, Toddy. Now he's firmly in the driver's seat!

Solomon rolls to his back, gasping for air, sweat dripping from his brow but his eyes gleaming.

Summer stares at the lights, chest heaving, lips parted in shock as the weight of the moment sinks in. Her hand lifts to her jaw. She didn’t see that coming.

Solomon Kline rises from the canvas like a storm gathering strength—his chest heaving, jaw clenched, eyes lit with a fire that borders on disbelief.

Summer, however, is already pushing herself upright, her jaw tense, mouth drawn in a tight line. She nods once, subtly—acknowledging the loss, but not surrendering an inch of ground mentally.

Then—she sprints.

TODD: We're not wasting any time here!

BAMA: Here we go, second fall starts now!

TODD: And Summer needs both!

Solomon’s smirk vanishes in a blink, his eyes flaring wide with surprise as Summer crashes into him with a running high knee that slams flush against his jaw. His head snaps back as he stumbles into the corner, arms slack against the ropes. Summer's face twists with intensity, breathing heavy through her nostrils like a predator closing in.

Grabbing a fistful of his hair, she yanks him to a seated position on the top rope. " She climbs the ropes quickly, swinging her legs up…

FRANKENST-

NO! Solomon’s teeth grit in midair and he brings his fist down hard into her midsection.

Summer gasps—loud and sharp—as the wind rushes out of her lungs. Her body seizes and drops, falling back-first onto the canvas. Solomon steadies himself, one hand clutching the top rope, the other pressing to his ribs. His face is twisted in pain, but his eyes glimmer with intent. He’s going to end it.

BAMA: You were talking about chances earlier...

TODD: Solomon Kline is in a prime position. I don't know what he's thinking right now, but he has to see victory in his sights!

BAMA: Imagine going 2-0 and sweeping Summer Page. That has to be the kind of performance the Rookie of the Year expects from himself.

He stands tall, pointing two fingers to the sky, then leaps off—looking to land a punishing aerial strike.

But Summer’s eyes flick open. Instinct. Desperation. Survival.

Solomon leaps!

MISSILE DROPK-

NO! Summer kicks up both feet and dropkicks Solomon in mid-air, her boots smashing into his gut! The crowd gasps in unison.

TODD: Oh my god!

BAMA: Somebody may be injured... I just don't know who.

Solomon crashes to the mat in a heap, dazed and clutching his jaw, his legs kicking reflexively. Summer quickly scrambles off the mat, draping her body across his chest, hooking the leg tight, her face buried against his shoulder in effort.

ONE!

TWO!

THRE-NO! Solomon jerks his shoulder up!

TODD: How in the hell did he just kickout?

BAMA: Sometimes taking those high-risk chances don't pay off. Good to know the kid has the fortitude to battle back when they don't.

TODD: He's not a kid, Bama-man.

BAMA: Is to me!

Summer exhales sharply, blowing a loose strand of hair from her face. Her eyes narrow. She pushes to her knees, shaking the cobwebs, then grabs Solomon by the wrist and shoulder, dragging him up from the mat with deliberate force.

But Solomon growls and breaks her grip! He lunges forward, wraps one giant hand around her throat—his grip iron-tight—and lifts her high into the air—

CHOKESLAM!

The ring shakes as Summer crashes back-first against the canvas. Solomon drops to one knee, breathing hard, his face glowing with the thrill of dominance. His gaze flicks down to Summer, prone and vulnerable.

BAMA: Oh, that was absolutely massive.

He rises slowly, methodically. No wasted motion. He crosses behind her limp form, hooks her arms, as he sits atop her back—ready to put an exclamation mark on the match with Dust to Dust!

…But Summer’s eyes blaze open!

She plants her feet, twists—spins into a Backslide, dropping to her knees with a surge of momentum, pulling Solomon’s shoulders to the mat!

TODD: Counter!

His eyes go wide in panic, arms flailing to escape.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

Solomon Kline: 1
Summer Page: 1


TODD: She got him! She did it! The score is tied one to one!

BAMA: I know Kline's gotta be frustrated. He really thought he had her there with the Dust to Dust. But he left himself far too open there and it cost him. Luckily though, this match will continue!

TODD: I mean, if it was one fall, Kline would have won ten minutes ago.

BAMA: And he can still win. But now he's got to shake off the mental mistake and move on.

Solomon kicks out a heartbeat too late, rolling away in stunned silence. His body jerks to a seated position, hands running through his damp hair, eyes locked on the referee in disbelief.

Summer’s on her back, breathing hard, but a slight nod to herself on the mat. Her chest rises and falls with effort, but her eyes sparkle with the glow of survival.

The crowd’s roar reaches a fever pitch as both Summer Page and Solomon Kline push up from opposite sides of the ring. Their bodies are bruised, breath ragged, hair soaked with sweat—but their eyes?

Locked. On fire.

TODD: Listen to this sold-out crowd!

BAMA: 400 people sound like 400 thousand in this old Bingo Hall. But damn, I'm loving the vibe. These two battling it out are making me question retirement!

TODD: Really?

BAMA: No.

Solomon slaps his chest, breathing through clenched teeth, eyes narrowed, fists clenched so tight his knuckles are white. Summer bites her lower lip, rolling her neck with an audible crack, her jaw set, expression ice-cold and focused.

They charge.

Their hands collide in a tangle of limbs—wrist holds, switches, duck-unders!

Solomon wrenches Summer’s wrist with a burst of strength, twisting her arm behind her back!

But Summer winces but pivots smoothly, ducking under and reversing the pressure!

BUT! Solomon jerks his arm free, slipping behind into a hammerlock.

BUT! Summer spins again, hooking his wrist, pushing off his back for a roll-up attempt…

BUT! Solomon rolls through it, turning it into another wristlock!

TODD: They're going back to the beginning again, but more intense!

BAMA: We're seeing two superstars in the ring that both really need this win so badly that they're doing everything they can not to lose.

They're spiraling in circles, every hold answered with a counter, every shift neutralized. Their movements are faster than thought now—desperation driving instinct!

Solomon suddenly lets go and swings for a short-arm clothesline…

NO! Summer ducks.

Page spins and throws a forearm!

NO! Solomon sways back, missing it by inches.

A pause—both of them wide-eyed, breathing heavily, standing just out of reach, adrenaline surging like electricity.

Summer snarls and rears back—SUPERKICK!

NO! Solomon ducks low—SUPERKICK FROM KLINE!

…

CONNECTS

TODD: The amount of countering going on in the later third of this three-part match is unreal!

BAMA: They're really getting to know each other in there.

The heel of his boot cracks against Summer’s jaw!

Her eyes glaze over, body shuddering. She stumbles backwards, arms limp at her sides, her back colliding with the ropes. Her fingers barely curl around the top rope as her knees tremble.

Solomon sees it.

His lips peel back in a primal yell. He pumps his fist once—

He leaps—ASHES TO ASHES!

…

NO! Summer—sidesteps!

TODD: ASHES TO- NO!

BAMA: Damn, that was close!

A reflex, pure and unconscious. Solomon’s forearm cuts through nothing but air.

His boots skid across the mat—and then a boot to the gut folds him in half.

Summer's face is sheer instinct now—wide eyes, teeth gritted in resolve as she clasps his head in a tight front facelock. No time to think.

She lifts her hand high in the air.

The crowd knows.

PURE PERFECTION!

…

CONNECTS

BAMA: She got 'im with the Pure Perfection, Todderick!

TODD: Page got all of it, too!

She bridges, holding it tight—every muscle screaming, body arched, hair fanned across the mat.

ONE!


TWO!


THREE!

Summer Page: 2
Solomon Kline: 1

WINNER: SUMMER PAGE

TODD: Oh my goodness, what an intense match!

BAMA: If that's the way that I've got to go out, then I'm proud to have witnessed this fight on my final show on commentary.

TODD: These two athletes, no, superstars, threw absolutely everything they had at each other!

BAMA: And Summer Page had to dig down deep after going down in the first fall to pick up the next two. What a performance by her, and by Kline as well.

TODD: It's not going to be any solace for Solomon, who feels like he's been in a bit of a funk. But he came out swinging and it looks like the crowd is giving both of these fighters the round of applause they deserve.

BAMA: I don't care what they say. I'd get a number-one contendership designation on Summer Page yesterday after that performance. I wanna see Summer Page finally take that next step and be a champion here that the XWF can be proud of.

TODD: Absolutely. The future is bright! ...hold on. Wait. What do you mean we're being interrupted a third ti-

[Image: wireline.png]

The Camera pans away from the electrifying two-out-of-three falls match, with Summer Page narrowly surviving Solomon Kline…

”Two good options there, Pete.”

…

Principle side-eyes Collins, disdain dripping from his eyes.

”...Uh… Mister Principle, I mean.”

“I mean, if you’re looking for symbols of the establishment to sink Dolly’s ship… Summer’s the daughter of a billionaire! Solomon Kline’s a second-generation star! Oligarchy! Nepotism!”

”...No.” Peter shakes his head. ”Summer’s too much of a goody two-shoes to blot out the Revolution… And… I have *other* plans for Kline. He’s a willing footsoldier in my other war against Black Rainbow.”

”Oh? Part of that anti-Black Rainbow “crack squad” you mentioned on Warfare?”

”THAT’S ON A NEED TO KNOW BASIS, COLLINS.”

…

”No. Neither will serve to end Dolly’s movement.”

”Well… oh! You know who could beat Dolly Waters?”

Peter turns around, silently intrigued.

”Aurora!”

…

”HAHAHAHAHA!” Principle doubles over slapping his knee.

Collins leans back, pleased at his own j-

”COLLINS.” Principle suddenly stops laughing and points his finger right under Collins’ nose! ”I SAID NO BAD IDEAS. NOT EVEN AS JOKES.”

…

Principle turns away from Collins, eyeing the screen once more.

”I need the perfect anti-Revolutonary. One who… when they defeat Dolly Waters, prove, ONCE and FOR ALL, the FOLLY of the entire misguided Revolution! Someone malleable. Someone you could stuff in a Coke and a Pepsi commercial in the same advertising break. Someone wh-”

”Someone you can CONTROL completely, right?”

Principle and Collins spin around, shocked!

”What’s that?!? Who goes that?!?”

Stepping out from the shadows…

”Your personal savior…”

Elon Musk!

”You want a wrestling superstar you can control?”

…Principle raises an eyebrow intrigued.

”My Chad GPT will be at your beck and call… He literally comes with a controller!” Elon Musk lifts a third-party PS1 gamepad. ”Or…” Elon lobs the controller over his shoulder. ”Let his perfectly-tuned autopilot wrestling programming SILENCE your rabble-rousing foes! He’s the PERFECT, CORPORATE WARRIOR.”

Collins sneers distastefully. ”Sir, I don’t think this is a g-”

”SILENCE, COLLINS.”

…

”What are Chad’s credentials?”

”Undefeated on Anarchy!”

”...Ooooh, so he’s the best car on the lot.”

”...Sir, Chad was the first one out of the King’s Tourney Battle Royal!”

”Slight programming error! I’ve worked out all his bugs and he’s ready to deploy!”

…

”And… I can’t imagine you’re offering him to us out of the goodness of your heart. What do you want for Chad’s service?”

…Elon starts salivating thinking about the object of his desire.

”...I want Chad competing for the Universal title.”

…

”And you can GUARANTEE he’ll THRASH Dolly Waters?”

”100% Success rate!”

…

Principle smiles menacingly.

As the feed cuts to commercial.

[Image: wireline.png]

[Image: QvK52d7.png]

Dolly Waters THE REVOLUTION in association with the XWF Present:

May Day 3!

From Ye Ole Commune in Coreytopia, Florida
Replay available to stream anytime on: XWF99.com

[Image: wireline.png]

In the ring, we have “Cavortin’” Jake Borden, flanked by Roger. Somehow, the two have slipped out from the backstage area without being noticed, which is doubly-impressive considering the Tactilizing orange and green pinstripe suit that Jake is wearing, a gift from his partner here tonight. Roger has his towel in hand, and he’s, well, spitting on it and using it to clean a smudge of dirt off of Jake’s forehead.

TODD: You have got to be kidding me.

BAMA: I don’t understand?

TODD: Jake Borden, and his manager-for-the-night Roger, are out here now in the ring, obviously ready for tonight’s main event.

BAMA: Yeah, and?

TODD: He’s wearing the damn suit.

BAMA: The one Tact gave him?

TODD: Yes!

BAMA: Okay… I don’t see anything wrong with it?

TODD: I’ve never asked this before, but are you colorblind?

Roger checks to make sure he got all of the smudge. Jake asks if he looks good now. Roger smooths out Jake’s eyebrows and then gives him a thumbs up for the all clear. Jake smiles and thanks Roger, before sinking into the near corner. Roger tosses the towel over the rope to the timekeeper before realizing that he needs that and goes diving through the ropes to retrieve it.

BAMA: I think he looks quite…

TODD: Don’t you say it.

BAMA: Tactilizing!

TODD: …nobody even knows what that means, T.

BAMA: Of course they do! And you can know all about it, if you’re willing to fork over the 2,750.

TODD: …come again?


"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.

BAMA: And there he is… the TACTILIZING ONE himself!

TODD: What do you mean, 2,750?!

BAMA: That’s how much it costs!

TODD: Not for me!

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.

BAMA: It’s for everyone.

TODD: I ain’t paying 2,750 dollars to no Larry Tact for no self-help program.

BAMA: That’s because you’ve always been a cheap-ass.

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.

TODD: Listen. Tact might have suckered poor Jake Borden out of three grand but the important thing here tonight is can these two men work together to take on Bobby Bourbon and Oz?

BAMA: That depends highly on how Tactilizing Mister Borden feels here tonight!


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: Man, everytime I see Oz in person, I’m reminded about how frightening some men can be by their physical presence alone.

BAMA: Crazy that Oswald is teaching in a wrestling school now, huh? Been doing it for a while I hear?

TODD: I mean, yes and no. Oz has a lot of those qualities that cannot be taught. But he’s got several years of experience in the ring that can.

BAMA: I wonder how much he charges for wrestling training? Or are you going to accuse him of scamming folks out of their hard-earned money, too?

TODD: Listen. It’s clearly different. Fighting training vs. Tactilizing Training…

BAMA: How is it different?

TODD: What the hell does Tactilizing even mean?!


The entirely epic XTron video of TNGB takes over the arena as the lights dim. A spotlight highlights the ramp, and Thunder Knuckles walks out onto the entrance ramp, hyped and ready to fight, pointing out into the crowd. Behind him, Bobby Bourbon deliberately walks out and stops, also pointing out into the crowd. Both men glance at each other and return their attention to the ring, delivering a no-look fistbump, then in unison point into the ring. The crowd sings along with the song.

*ASSHOLE, DIRTBAG, NO GOOD BASTARDS!*stomp stomp*

TODD: And there they are, needing no formal introduction, but we’re being paid to give them one anyway…

BAMA: It’s our Anarchy Tag-Team Champions - Them No Good Bastards baby, yeah!

TODD: Speaking of peak physical specimens. I mean, within reason of course.

BAMA: No doubt that little Borden is the tiniest one in this matchup by far. But hey, at least he’s got the right Tactilizing attitude and the innovator of Tactilizing himself as his partner! If Jake can lean on Tact tonight, they might just be able to pull off the upset.

TODD: The way the Bastards and Oz fight and the way the rules are set up, I’d personally be more worried about survival if I was Jake Borden.

BAMA: At least Roger is safe tonight. Maybe.

TODD: Not even sure the fans are/were safe tonight.

BAMA: Also true.

TODD: TNGB were able to defeat Borden and Roger to become the second-ever Anarchy Tag-Team Champions, and they haven’t looked back since. They’ve been around almost as forever as two men can be in the XWF, and they’ve been a threat since day one. On paper they’re like the perfect team.

TK slides into the ring and gets up onto a knee, beckoning the crowd as Bobby climbs the steps and enters the ring behind him. TK stands and appeals to the crowd as Bobby raises his arms at 45-degree angles.

TODD: In case anyone is confused about the rules of this matchup, allow me–

BAMA: –ALLOW ME– to give you a rundown, baby: There are no pinfalls: There are no submissions: There are no disqualifications; the only way to win here tonight is for your corner to throw in the towel! 

TODD: And given the current trajectory of these two teams? I believe the backroom of this VFW hall is likely packed full of bet slips on Bobby Bourbon and Mr. Oz…

BAMA: And why wouldn’t they be, Toddy-baby? We have the Anarchy Tag Team Champions represented in one corner, alongside Mr. Oz–an Anarchy Veteran– and on the other side?

TODD: On the other side you have Jake Borden, Larry Tact and Roger… three men who are all coming off of failed championship defenses. One might argue that it could make them hungrier–

BAMA: –but one could argue that perception is reality, baby! And the perception here tonight is we have a corner on one side of the ring full of men who couldn’t defend their gold, while on the other side, we have championship pedigree, and cohesion.



”CAVORTIN” JAKE BORDEN & LARRY TACT w/ ROGER
- vs -
MR. OZ & BOBBY BOURBON w/ THUNDER KNUCKLES

TAG MATCH - NO FALLS- NO SUBMISSION- NO DQ
OPPOSING MANAGER MUST ‘THROW IN THE TOWEL’ TO WIN

The bell rings and we’re starting off with Larry Tact and Mr. Oz!

TODD: If you like powerhouse wrestling, we’re being treated to a doozy right here, Bama!

BAMA: 6’6 260 in Tact… 6’8” THREE-TWENTY-FREAKING-SIX IN OZ! These two don’t just beat the competition, they pulverize them!

The two meet in the middle of the mat, standing face to face. Oz, just a bit taller. On the apron, Bobby is clapping his hands, certain that Oz is about to make quick work of this - - -

HE’S AN XWF ROOKIE, OZ! HE CAN’T THROW BLOWS LIKE US!

Bobby’s words catch Oz’s ear, and in an instant, he’s throwing a haymaker at Tact… BUT TACT THROWS ONE RIGHT BACK!!!

The two behemoths are trading shots back and forth. Tact’s shots are more swift though, more precise, he throws a series of left and rights that connect flush with Oz’s head as the former Anarchy Champion falls back into the ropes - - -Larry granting him no room to breathe.

He pushes Oz hard into the ropes and then whips him across the ring and on the rebound….


SWINGING NECKBREAKER!

Tact is to his feet quick, with a huge pop from the crowd, and an even louder applause from Borden and their manager Roger on the outside.

He picks Oz back up, throwing him into the ropes again, but this time on the rebound - - -HE LOCKS IN A MILLION DOLLAR DREAM SLEEPER HOLD!

TODD: Great thinking here by Larry. He knows that the only way to win this match, is to convince Oz and Bobby’s corner that those two cannot continue. To convince them that going aunty further in this match could result in serious injury. Wearing big old Mr. Oz out with submission holds early is the perfect strategy in a match like this.

BAMA: Yeah, yeah, but if you think Thunder Knuckles is going to be intimidated by this, then you have another thing coming–

Just then, TK smirks from the outside, and hands Bobby Bourbon a chair.

Bourbon nods and climbs through the ropes.. He runs… RIGHT PAST TACT AND OZ!!!

AND SMASHES THE CHAIR OVER BORDEN’S HEAD ON THE APRON!

THE SEAT BUSTS OUT OF THE FRAME!

Roger is frantic, rushing over to check on Borden who’s fallen from the apron.

THROW IN THE TOWEL, ROG’ OR I’MMA HURT HIM EVEN WORSE!

Roger damn near has tears in his eyes.

BUT TACT!


He drops the submission hold on OZ and - - -

THE HUMBLING!

Tact plants Bobby with the uranage suplex…. AND DOESN’T LET GO!!!!

He’s got Bobby locked in a HARA GATAMAE ARM BAR!

TODD: A brilliant strategy there from The Bastards, FOILED by Larry Tact!

TK is reaching under the bottom rope, grabbing Oz’s leg, and jarring him awake.

Oz jolts up from the mat and KICKS Larry right in the spine!

Larry hollers out and releases the arm bar. Bobby rolls out of the ring and falls to the floor. His arm looking seriously damaged!

Larry turns back seething and Oz… HE GRAPPLES HIM!

SNAP POWERBOMB!

Tact looks over at TK who's deliberately filing his nails now, with now file, his back turned to the action.

BAMA: TK Isn’t going to let his emotions get the better of him here. The less he watches, the less he’ll feel compelled to throw in the towel!

Tact, with Oz folded at his feet, turns back to his partner. Roger finally has Jake stirred and up to his feet.

Jake is coming to now, and frantic that… m-m-m-m-my-my-s-s-s

Your suit looks, fine!

Roger assures him!

Borden looks reenergized! He nods with confidence, and climbs back onto the apron - - - JUST IN TIME FOR TACT TO TAG HIM INTO THE MATCH!

BAMA: Now wait a second, should Borden even be allowed to compete now? That man surely has a concussion! Just listen to his stutter!

TODD: …he’s always had a stutter, and that’s ok.

BAMA: Pfft! What are you going to tell me next? That’s a time traveler? That’s actually Roger’s dad???

TODD: ….

Borden hits the ring and wastes little time going at Oz!

EAR CLAP!

FOREARM SMASH!

BODY- - -


FULL NELSON SLAM FROM TK!!!!!

TODD: Thunder Knuckles just broke the mold of manager, and made the save there for his team!

BAMA: And the ref can do nothing about it! BRILLIANT!

TODD: BUT LOOK!!!!

ROGER IS SKIDDING INTO THE RING!

And scolds TK in a 2 minute or so long diatribe about sportsmanship… or something.

TK rolls his eyes and exits the ring. Roger exits the ring. EAch man heading back to their corner.

TODD: Listen… I know that Oz has a history with Bobby and TK going back to the BOB days, but I can’t for the life of me understand why the tag champs decided to take on this project tonight! Bobby seems totally out of rhythm, and frankly, Larry Tact might’ve broken his arm!

BAMA: Are you kidding me, Todd? This is all a part of the plan! Bobby and TK are masters of tag team competition… they’ve been luring Borden and Tact in all night and-

Borden kipups!

..kinda…

He catches himself with his arm and pushes up with an assist from Tact.

t-t-t-thanks

Roger applauds from the outside

Borden’s eyes narrow on the reeling Oz…


f-f-f-f-FU-fu-FULL-f-f-FORCE!

Borden goes FULL FORCE!!!!

Shit…

TODD: -AND so much for the strategy, Bama! Borden, with the timley assist from Tact is going full force!

BAMA: TK looks absolutely bewildered here, baby! And Bobby Bourbon is still out cold!

TODD: AND NOW BORDEN IS- HES-HES

BAMA: Locking in the most awkward looking sharpshooter I’ve ever seen!!!

TODD: It’s his tenth move!

Borden turns Oz onto his belly, and TK slaps the mat in frustration….




….and throws in the towel!!!!

WINNERS: ‘Cavortin’ Jake Borden & Larry Tact!!!


TODD: And how about that, Bama! Against all odds!

BAMA: Yeah, yeah..

TODD: One half of the tag team champions, with the other half at ringside, just lost here tonight to one half of the former tag team champs, and Larry Tact!

BAMA: I might not have given Borden and Tact the credit they deserve but… I STILL WONT!

Larry, Roger and Jake all celebrate in the ring with some Tactilizing cavortin’! Roger kisses them both on the cheek and raises their arms!

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TODD: What an incredible main event ladies and gentlemen. Tact and Roger pulling out the most incredible of victories here tonight... truly unforgettable. But unfortunately, however, all good things must come to an end. And that not only includes our program here tonight, but for my main man Bama T., a career well-worked, and the beginning of a retirement well-earned.

BAMA: Stop it. You're going to get me all teary-eyed. It's been a pleasure the entire time. It really has.

TODD: It's been a pleasure to have you- wait, what now?

BAMA: What?

TODD: I'm being told through the headset that we're being interrupted AGAIN! But this time, we're going to be graced by the presence of our Universal Champion-

BAMA: TRASH TALK ROYALTY, BABY! LET'S GET IT! ONE FINAL TIME!!!

A custom version of “RIOT MAKER” by Tech N9ne begins to play throughout the arena speakers. The crowd instantly erupts with cheers knowing this was about to be good.

“This one right here's for the riot makers
The trash talkers, the monsters, the home-wreckers
We gon' start this shit off right
We got JAMES SHARK in the house tonight
We gon' start this shit off right (off right)
We got JAMES SHARK in the house tonight (come on)”

Shark storms out of the curtains. He doesn’t play to the crowd or take his time, instead he marches forward, eyes locked on the ring, his face covered with rage. The ring announcer does their best to be louder than the crowd and the music.

“I don't know why they be pumpin', it's somethin'
Maybe in the music when it be bumpin'
It's crunk and it's hella haterific (haterific)
Throw your set up in the air is all the DJs really wanna play
When the match is over, it's lookin' bloody and Satanistic (Satanistic)
Killas from everywhere don’t want to face me
I carry the show, some get nervous when I wreck arenas (wreck arenas)”

Ring Announcer: Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome to the stage, the XWF Universal Champion, JAAAAMES SHAAARK!!!

Shark rolls into the ring and motions for the microphone. The announcer is confused but Shark doesn’t wait, he rips the microphone out of their hand without a word.

Shark: Cut my music man, cut that shit right now.

“Wrestling promoters in Honolulu don't wanna see me
'Cause they said that Somoans will riot when they lose their ninas

The music suddenly cuts off. Shark begins to circle around the ring furiously. He has the microphone gripped firmly in his hands, eyes locked on every entrance in the crowd.

Shark: CHARLIE NICKLES…

The mention of the Nickleman’s name ignites the arena, fans rise to their feet, phones out, ready for a showdown between the two rivals.

Shark: HERE I AM YOU METH-HEAD PIECE OF SHIT. WHERE THE HELL YOU AT!???

Shark’s eyes continue to dart towards every exit, scanning the crowd and anticipating an ambush from Nickles. He then stomps on the mat and turns to the floor crew, signalling them to check under the ring - they comply but end up shaking their heads. There was no sign of Charlie anywhere.

Shark: You said I was running…….. BUT WE ALL SAW YOU RUN AWAY. Run away with MY Championship. Now here I am in the middle of this goddamn ring after you told me to come and get it back……

Shark stops pacing around the ring, his energy drops. He comes to the realization that Charlie isn’t going to come out. Charlie never had any intention of showing up to Anarchy. He told Shark where to go and Shark went without hesitation. Charlie was trying to show him that he wasn’t in control, that despite Shark being the Champion, Charlie was the one pulling the strings.

Shark scratches his head in frustration and lets out a deep sigh. He slowly puts the microphone to his mouth as he looks out towards the ramp.

Shark: Okay….Rebellion? Me and you? One last time?

Shark turns and looks directly into the camera.

Shark: Fine. I wanted you to beg for this match to happen but now you’re just going to end up beggin’ for it to end. You hear me you little cocksucker? You’ll be down on your hands and knees, mid-match, beggin’ for me to stop. The world has never seen a violent fuck like you quit or want out but I’m going to beat that side out of you.

Shark clears his throat and imitates Charlie, giving his best impersonation of him as he puts his hands out as if he is handing something over.

Shark: “Here it is Sharkboy. Here is your Universal Championship. Take it and spare me.”

His anger is hidden with a smirk.

Shark: I won’t have to kill you like you told me to at Warfare, Nickles. You’ve already tied the rope around your neck. Your actions is career suicide. Rebellion is the last time these people will see y-

Suddenly Shark is cut off with the lights turning off. The fans all gasp. The energy in the arena gets higher. Phones light up like stars in the dark….. And then the big screens flicker on…..

And it cuts to a shot of Charlie Nickles standing in the back!

The Nickleman’s grin stretches from ear to ear as he repositions the XWF Universal Championship atop his shoulder. He’s dressed in a full black suit with a patterned tie to match. Clearly, Charlie wanted to look nice for this occasion! The screen frames Charlie from the belly up, granting the audience a clear view of the stolen XWF Championship belt. The engraved nameplate reading ‘James Shark’ appears to have been scratched out, and then sharpied over! It now reads ‘Property of Charlie’.

“I hear you’re looking for The Nickleman, bitch!”

Charlie throws his head back with victorious mockery as he taunts James Shark from the big screen.

“Well you found him! Or rather….”

The camera on Charlie zooms out, revealing more information about his location backstage. It appears that Charlie is standing right outside the joint locker room of Summer Page and James Shark! As the camera zooms out even further, we see that Charlie is holding a barbed-wire baseball bat in his hands!

“He’s found her!”

The Nickleman bashes in the door to the locker room with his bat, creating a wide gap in the center of the wood. A shrill scream is heard from the other side of the door, presumably the voice of “Spoiled” Summer Page. Then, Charlie peeks his head inside the door’s gaping hole.

“HEEEEERE'S CHARLIE!”

The Nickleman kicks down the remnants of the door with one firm kick. The splintered wood flies off the hinges before The Nickleman turns back to face the camera. He gives a sly wink directly to the camera before stepping into the open locker room. The feed on the X-tron suddenly cuts to static, but not before we hear another scream, followed by the muffled sound of barbed-wire ripping through flesh.

Shark: YO?? WHAT THE FUCK, YOU SON OF A BITCH!

As the TV feed cuts back to the camera on Shark, we see the real XWF Universal Champion darting out of the ring and making a beeline up the ramp, towards the back. The cameras follow James Shark as he goes back through the gorilla position, frantically running back to his brand new couples locker room. Shark turns left and then turns right, before he’s finally in the hallway that houses his locker room. But this time, something’s different….

[Image: image0-1.jpg]

Posters of Charlie Nickles line both sides of the wall, covering them from ceiling to floor! James Shark is only taken aback momentarily by the knockoff Rebellion posters. In truth, there’s no distracting the fury in his eyes. Shark charges forward, past the posters, trying to find the shattered door to his locker room. As James moves through the hallway, you could swear that the eyes on the posters were following him…

When James finally finds his locker room, he sees Summer Page laying in the corner in a pool of her own blood. The flesh on her face and torso have clearly been ripped open by The Nickleman’s barbed-wire. James rushes towards the woman he’s been obsessing about, without care or concern for anything else in the world.

Shark: ….Summer? Holy fuck… Summer?? Can you hear me??

James Shark immediately drops to the floor, taking the wounded woman in his arms. James caresses her scarred flesh, trying to comfort her as the blood seeps out of the skin and pools around her limp body. Unbeknownst to the champion, The Nickleman is positioned in the corner of the frame, just out of sight to James: but the audience sees him clearly! Shark begins to call for help so that Summer can get treated for her wounds.

Shark: AY WE NEED SOME HELP OVER HERE.

That’s when The Nickleman raises his barbed-wire bat….

“EAT THIS!”

James Shark turns around, just in time to receive a faceful of barbed-wire! The champion drops from the force of the impact, falling right atop his bloodied lover. James and Summer lay flat in the corner of the room as The Nickleman loomed tall above them. Charlie’s lips curled into a dark grin as he placed the end of his bat’s barrel on the ground, crouching down beside it and the bodies. 

“Get some rest before Rebellion, will ya’ James? You look absolutely terrible right now!”

The Nickleman’s head rolls back with laughter as his hearty guffaw fills the room. He uses the baseball bat to push himself back up to a standing position, shaking his head in feigned disappointment the entire time. As Charlie turns to leave the room, the camera zooms in on the carnage The Nickleman wrought. Summer and James lay still in the corner of the room, covered in each other’s blood. Summer Page appears completely lifeless, her eyes rolled back in her skull…but in James’ eyes?

The embers of Rebellion still spark.

With that... this broadcast of XWF Anarchy fades to black.

[Image: wireline.png]

A Special Thanks To Our Match Writers:
Mark Flynn
Jimmy Stars

And Our Segment Writers:

James Shark
Justin York
Charlie Nickles
Peter Principle
Summer Page

And thank you to everyone who RPed!

Next stop?

REBELLION!
]]>

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05 - 15 - 2025

LIVE FROM DAVID MCKEEVER POST 64

BUFFALO, NEW YORK




REVOLUTION CHAMPIONSHIP
JUSTIN YORK©
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX
NO HOLDS BARRED



SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
SOLOMON KLINE
BEST TWO OUT OF THREE FALLS





”CAVORTIN” JAKE BORDEN & LARRY TACT w/ ROGER
- vs -
MR. OZ & BOBBY BOURBON w/ THUNDER KNUCKLES

TAG MATCH - NO FALLS- NO SUBMISSION- NO DQ
OPPOSING MANAGER MUST ‘THROW IN THE TOWEL’ TO WIN


The scene opens up outside the arena and the camera captures James Shark as he can be seen entering the building. The New York crowd explodes with cheers. It’s not Brooklyn, but it doesn’t matter - this is still home territory for Shark and the fans let him know it.

[Image: bsvfl.gif]

He walks into the building draped in diamonds around his neck and wrist, his usual swagger, but this wasn’t any ordinary visit. He had been dared to come here by Charlie Nickles, the challenge had been laid down back at Warfare - If Shark wanted his Universal title back, he’d have to come to Anarchy to take it. And that’s exactly what he planned to do.

As Shark nears the camera he gives it a wink.

Shark: New York. Daddy’s home. We got a smelly hobo out here wearin’ my Championship belt like it’s his. Let’s find him and show that motherfucker how we do business over here.

Shark throws an elbow at the camera lens as if it is Charlie’s face. He then keeps walking, his voice trailing off with a smirk.

Shark: Wonder where Summer’s fine ass at too.




Plumes of Blue and White pyrotechnics shoot out from tubes around the makeshift entry ramp on the stage and mark the start of our show. Finally, after the fallout of MAY DAY 3, XWF has returned to SELL OUT the near 400 person capacity (throughout the bottom and top halls) of the David McKeever Post 64 for this edition of Thursday Night ANARCHY!!! Even still, there are hundreds, nay, millions more who are watching and streaming LIVE from their homes!!!

As soon as the pyros finish, "Lithium" by Nirvana hits over the speakers, officially welcoming XWF fans to yet another edition of their favorite syndicated full-contact wrestling show, Anarchy. The Anarchy announce team is at ringside, preparing for a night filled with action!!  With "Lithium" still playing over the speakers the cameras pan around to those few lucky and avid members of the Anarchy faithful from all ages, races, creeds & colors screaming on the tops of their lungs, proudly wearing their XWF Merchandise and holding up signs for their favorite (or least favorite) stars:


WE LOVE YOU BAMA T.!

SOLEMN INCLINE #1

KING YORK - CANADIAN REVOLUTION CHAMPION

THIS IS A #TACTFACT

I ONLY CAME TO SEE SUMMER PAGE

"CAVORTIN" THAT B*TCH JOSEPH GORDON-LEVITT

BOBBY + DR. OZ = DOBBY

MICHEAL GRAVES (ALLEGEDLY) STOLE MY OTHER SIGN


The fans inside the David Mckeever Post 64 here in Buffalo, New York are absolutely raging and ready to get the action of XWF’s Anarchy underway! They have packed the arena hours before bell time, anticipating one of the best shows of the year.

The hard cam pans around the arena catching glimpses of the excitement in the joint.

TODD: Ladies and Gentlemen welcome to...

As the camera looks further around the arena you begin seeing banners for another promotions “Pro Wrestling Valor”. The teal blue banners hang from the ceiling, guardrails and just about everywhere the eye can see.

“#BEDLAM5”, “PWV” and “Valor” are just some of the words on the custom-made banners that have been strewn everywhere.

TODD: Well, I was going to say XWF Anarchy, but by the looks of things, maybe we're being taken over?

BAMA: On my last show? What the FU—

The camera goes back to panning over the bloodthirsty fans, going around the packed Legion Hall before landing on Todd Moschitti and Bama T. at their commentary table at ringside. Todd adjusts his headset while Bama T. cracks his knuckles, looking ready to fight whoever hung all this Pro-Wrestling Valor paraphernalia.

TODD: Anyway, Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Thursday Night Anarchy! As always, I’m Todd Moschitti, and next to me is my partner in chaos, Bama T.! We’ve got-

BAMA: Before we even get started. Yes, the rumors that you heard are true. Rebellion will officially be my last show with the XWF. Which means...

TODD: Tonight is your last Anarchy. Ever. Possibly. Maybe.

BAMA: That's right. Not possibly. No maybes. Last Anarchy ever.

TODD: Well, I said this to ya in the back, but I'm going to miss working with you, buddy.

BAMA: You, too. But don't you worry about me, Toddster. It's private island livin' from here until sunset, baby! Someplace where it's always five o'clock, if you know what I mean. But I'll still check in on ya from time to time. Make sure you're still holding up on your end. Don't let me catch you slackin'!

TODD: Haha, I'm never slacking here on the A-Show. And I appreciate you checking in on me Bama-man. But speaking of the show, we've got a hell of a Thursday Night for everyone here tonight, in the Buffalo American Legion Hall no. 64, dedicated to Army Spc. David M. McKeever, who paid the ultimate price back during Operation Iraqi Freedom.

BAMA: It's a great venue with a lot of history, just like our XWF. Originally built back in 1920 as The Capitol Theatre, it's still in use 105 years later. This place is a tough as nails and built like a brick shithouse. We've got fans packed throughout the lower hall and another hundred or so watching from above in the upper hall, enjoying a full-service bar and snack menu. I'm actually a bit jealous.

TODD: It's a great view for sure. An excellent place to witness our new Revolution Champion Justin York defend his, ahem, updated Maple Leaf Revolution championship title against Layota Hixx in what is sure to be a no-holds barred slugfest! And apparently someone is excited to see the Pro-Wrestling Valor owner in action...

BAMA: I hope they keep it in the ring, or else I hope Bashmaster has us paid up on our insurance premiums. I don't think there's any room for the fans to get out of the way. Unless its PWV's wannabe Banksy. Then by all means, I hope he or she gets choked out with one of their own cheap banners.

TODD: He doesn't mean that, folks. But hey, after that we'll witness Summer Page take on Solomon Kline in a best of two-out-of-three falls contest. Both of these superstars really looking to secure a much-needed victory to line themselves up for potential gold in their futures.

BAMA: Talk about giving the fans their money's worth. It'll be a test to Kline and Page's stamina, grit, and determination, especially if it ends up going to a third fall. Kline just recently picked up a much-needed win over Hixx at Warfare. But pride is one thing. Gold is what Summer and Solomon are both after.

TODD: So true, Bamaman. And then in our main event, your last Main Event, T, we've got the Anarchy Tag Team Champions, Bobby Bourbon and Thunder Knuckles... except, well, Bobby will be teaming with Oz to take on "Cavortin'" Jake Borden and Larry Tact...

BAMA: Yes, Todd, and this one's special, because Jake and Tact will have Roger in their corner as their manager, while Bourbon and Oz will have TK in theirs. The only way to win this match is to have your opponent's manager throw in the towel! I love it!

TODD: And I'm telling you right now Bama, someone is going to have to hurt somebody really bad to force either TK or Roger to throw in the towel and effectively submit for their team. On paper, it seems like a straight-forward tag match, but it could end up a bloodbath in a hurry.

BAMA: I've got to give Bashmaster credit. He knows how to give the Anarchy fans what they want.

TODD: Even if he works for the Oligarchy.

BAMA: Can we prove that, though, Todderick?

TODD: Well, no. Not really. But it is the General Manager's job to motivate the stars to put their bodies on the line.

BAMA: This is XWF, Todd. We fight for pride! We fight for honor! We fight for-

TODD: Valor?

BAMA: F- that. I don't even know what a Bedlam 5 is!

TODD: It's... well, it's... uhh, nevermind. Let's focus on you tonight, friend! The Long-Island Bama Teas are being served fresh on ice upstairs, and the action is about to be served in this very ring! Stick with us, because XWF Thursday Night Anarchy is about to-

Suddenly the X-tron airs a banner and a promotional video for Valor's upcoming event, Bedlam 5, featuring some of the world's top talents and all three titles on the line. Once the video is finished, we quickly cut to a shot backstage. The Revolution Champion and Pro Wrestling Valor owner is walking through the hallway with several assistants carrying banners and he’s taping them to locker room doors and all over the walls, just about everywhere the eye can see.

York notices the camera shot is directly on him and so he stops what he’s doing and with a giant shit eating grin he adjusts the custom-made Revolution title around his waist and stares directly into the camera.

Justin York: Oh.. Hey there.. THADDEUS. I told you at Mayday that this was my fucking brand now. You have paid it so little attention and so little affection that it was nearly drowning. That is until I swooped in and saved your hide. I custom made a title to replace that piece of garbage that you had Matthias walking around with for the better part of a year and you know what? It’s garnered more eyes than anything your roster has done in years.

TODD: The arrogance— I think we've found your wannabe Banksy at the scene of the crime, T!

BAMA: Justin York did this? I'm gonna... I'M GONNA... congratulate him!

TODD: What?

BAMA: Kudos, King! Well done! Your banners look impeccable! Keep up the great work!

TODD: But he's advertising his brand on our show!

BAMA: And yet he is our champion. Now put some respect on the Revolution Champion's name and be quiet while he speaks.

Justin York: I promised you that I’d make this brand worthy of something and I lived up to that as I do with every goddamn thing I say I’m going to do. Only if the same could be said for you. I also promised you that I’d force you to show THE brand in the XWF some attention instead of having Warfare rammed up your ass like a buttplug. What better way to do so than to promote a company with an owner that cares for every piece of it like Valor, like me. What kind of fucking COO only shows his face on one of the company’s shows? Do you believe you’re too damn good, you stuck up little bastard? If this doesn’t drag your sorry to my brand and prove to the XWF faithful that you’re a man worthy of running a multi-billion dollar wrestling promotion and one that cares to defend the honor of the promotion you run then you’re just what I’ve always said you were, a nutless prick! Maybe you left your coin purse in Sahara’s handbag through the divorce! This is just the beginning Thaddeus, the games have only just begun. I know you’ll get a clip of this whilst sitting with Lucy pretending you’re superior to the entire world and it’ll strike you where it hurts but play it off like you always do because “nothing and nobody ever gets to you.” Now watch as I defend the honor of Anarchy, of the XWF and walk out of here once again with this gorgeous title! Ta ta for now!

York pounds on the title around his waist and then proceeds with hanging his banners all over the arena with not one person willing to stop him.

TODD: I’ve never met a man as ignorant as him. He’s flicking a hornet's nest playing with Mr. Duke. I don't want to hear anyone cry when he gets stung.

BAMA: I have no disagreements on the sentiment, but I like the bold play here. Justin York is proving to be a man of his word. He's putting his money where his mouth is.

TODD: He's putting Pro-Wrestling Valor where our XWF is!

BAMA: And that's why the "A" in the A-show stands for "Advertising", Todderick. York gets it. Now he's called out the COO and challenged him outright on it. The ball is in Thaddeus's court to respond.

TODD: I don't like it. There's a lot of bad that can come from this, but that's up to Mister Duke now. Are the tides of change truly rising? I guess we'll have to find out more... right after these messages!

[Image: wireline.png]

[Image: 2YpaDqV.png]

XWF REBELLION '25

(Limited) Premium Tickets Still Available*
Buy only Verified™ XWF Tickets on site or at XWF99.com!

All Championships will be on the line!*
In Action:
The Real Universal Champion - James Shark
The Holder of the Universal Championship Belt - "The Nickleman" Charlie Nickles
24/7 Xtreme Champion - Madison Dyson
XWF Tag-Team Champion - Also Madison Dyson
XWF Tag-Team Champion - Dolly Waters
Anarchy Champion - Micheal Graves(?)
Anarchy Tag-Team Champions - Them No Good Bastards
The Televison Champion!!*
The Double-Moose Revolution Champion!!*
& many more!

Also Appearing:*
The Lesser-Known Members of The Legendary Rock Band Aerosmith
Matt Damon & Ben Affleck as one
New York Knicks Basketball Ambassador Patrick Ewing
Comedian Amy Poehler
The Ghost of Robert Frost**
Latoya Hixx

*Subject to Change
**Not Available for Autographs or Flash Photography

[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: And we're back!

BAMA: That didn't take too long.

TODD: No. But we are going through a crazy part of our schedule right now, with May Day at the beginning of the month and now we're already staring down Rebellion on June 1st.

BAMA: The weather's heating up, and so are we. I'm telling ya, we're going to sell-out Fenway Park. I can feel it.

TODD: Absolutely. And speaking of heating up, tonight's action is about to get underway, where Justin York will look to defend his brand-new title belt against one of the hungriest competitors we have in Layota Hixx!


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

TODD: Making her way to the ring first is the challenger, of course. And did my eyes deceive me, Bama, or did Hixx slap a few fans on her way to the ring?

BAMA: Huh? Wha? Like 'slap their hands' slap them?

TODD: I guess? It's hard to say. The fans reacted like she was coming at them swinging!

BAMA: It has to be. Otherwise, I expect Hixx to be fined, suspended, and thrown under the jail. We don't hit fans here in the XWF, unless they jump the barricade first.

TODD: She's been living backstage for a few days, possibly weeks, leading up to this event, T. That's what Steve Sayors said, anyway. Rumor has it Layota even tried to fight the octogenarians during last Saturday's McKeever Post Bingo Night, demanding to know where Justin York was!

BAMA: That... sounds like something she would do, sadly. But hey, look on the bright side. At least her patience has paid off, she doesn't have that much longer to wait, Todderick!

TODD: Perhaps Layota can score a Bingo tonight and walk out the new Revolution Champion?

BAMA: ...

TODD: I'll see myself out.


One for the money rings throughout the arena as JY steps out from behind the curtain with a kings crown on. He stands center stage and takes in all of the boo’s before adjusting his crown with a smirk and heading down to the ring.

BAMA: Got to hand it to King Justin York. The man looks all kitted out with fresh gold and a crown that's custom fit for him and him alone.

TODD: Not going to lie to you, Bama-man, I'm still a bit peeved that Justin York promotes PWV as much, if not more than the XWF.

BAMA: Why shouldn't he?

Ring Announcer: INTROOODUUUUCINGGGG The One, The Only. He hails from TOOOROOONTOOO ONTARIOOOO CANADAAAAA, HE IS THE REVOLUTION CHAMPION, KING JUUUUUSTIIINNN YOOOOOORK!

York enters the ring and stand on the middle ropes and holds his crown high in the air while giving a death stare into the crowd.

TODD: Maybe because he's on XWF Anarchy...

BAMA: Ohh, Todd. Never thought I'd see the day where I'd be the one telling you to get with the times.

TODD: What does that have to do with anything?

BAMA: It's 2025 my guy. Loyalty to promotions is so old school. Individuals are the brand now. Social Media. Twitter. Instagram. BlueSky!

The official raises the Revolution title between the competitors, before handing it off to the timekeeper!

The bell rings!


REVOLUTION CHAMPIONSHIP
JUSTIN YORK©
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX
NO HOLDS BARRED

Justin York stands dead center in the ring, looking his opponent up and down.

A sly, lopsided smirk creeps across his lips as he slowly raises his arms above his head and beckons the crowd to boo!

They oblige, soaking “King” York in a very mixed reaction from the XWF Universe, which he seems to savor thoroughly.

BAMA: Seems like the Buffalonians in attendance agree with you, Todderick.

TODD: Honestly it takes a lot to have your opponent literally take swings at the live audience before the match and you're still the one they boo.

BAMA: It's disrespectful. We're so close to Canada, that this is almost a hometown match for King York!

York glances briefly at Latoya Hixx, who eyes him earnestly, ready to fight the match of her life…

York then dramatically yawns and beckons Hixx forward like she’s barely worth his effort.

Latoya snarls, her thick jaw clenched and nostrils flaring like a bull. Her body tenses with impatient fury, her massive frame bouncing in place as she pounds her fists together, trying to psych herself up.

…York coos, tsk-tsking like Hixx wanting his belt is adorable. He raises his arms, offering her a test of strength…

Hixx nods, stepping forward to obli-

WHAM!

York drives a FOREARM straight into Hixx’s jaw! Her legs jellify under her as she stumbles backwards into the ropes…

Despite his challenger looking vulnerable, York again circles the ring, beckoning the crowd to boo harder, clearly more focused on the crowd than his opponent.

TODD: York playing mind games here in the early going. And it's not winning the Pro Wrestling Valor owner any favors.

BAMA: It's the perfect strategy. You said so yourself: Hixx has been waiting for this opportunity all week, or longer. Why wouldn't King York the Revolutionary use that against his challenger?

Beside the ropes, Latoya blinks in shock, rubbing her jaw, sore from York’s underhanded strike. Her brows furrow, confused that she didn’t see it coming.

Hixx shakes it off and charges—but York sidesteps her like a matador, as she ends up with her back to the corner!

…But again, rather than close in on his cornered opponent, he continues taunting the arena! He grins ear-to-ear as he shouts straight into the hard cam, “You watching this, Thaddeus?! You see all these eyes on MY show?!”

The crowd voices their emphatic disapproval.

TODD: He better keep his eyes on the prize, here.

…Hixx’s brow furrows with anger. That old temper of hers is starting to show…

…But she takes a deep breath. She can’t let this title match slip! She’s gotta focus!

BAMA: Relax. Justin York is fine. He didn't overcome the longest reigning Revolution Champion in history because he's a slouch in the ring.

She charges out of the corner, looking to grapple with York! York doesn’t even try to evade her…

Hixx gets a hold of him in a collar-and-elbow tie-up…

Until York spreads his arms wide! Breaking Latoya’s grip and…

SMACK! York catches Latoya with a slap on the back of the head, straight out of a schoolyard bully’s playbook.

Hixx doubles over, rubbing the back of her head as York stands over her, muttering something to Hixx the camera doesn’t catch…

Latoya’s face twists into embarrassment… then rage!

Hixx tries to catch the champion off-guard, she swings blindly with a wild haymaker!

…NO! York ducks under! Hixx’s wild swing rotates her until her back’s to York! York, with the giddy delight of a child opening a present, takes her undefended back, hooks his arms around her waist…

And SNAP her overhead!

GERMAN SUPLEX!

York holds the bridge! The official drops t-

Hixx kicks o-... Wait, no! York just released the bridge!

Hixx cradles her aching neck as York circles around the ring, beckoning more and more response from the crowd! He stands on the turnbuckle, demanding their volume be greater and greater!

BAMA: Behold. This is excellence in motion, Todderick.

TODD: This is a bully doing little more than pissing his opponent off and not taking her seriously.

BAMA: But it's Hixx...

TODD: I don't care, man. Any given Thursday!

BAMA: Justin York isn't just out here to defend his title. He's out here to make a statement.

Latoya lies flat on the mat, stunned. Her fingers twitch. Her eyes flutter as she tries to orient herself. York meanwhile stands tall on the turnbuckle, arms spread arrogantly. “You see that? Technical EXCELLENCE. You think THADDEUS DUKE could throw a german like THAT!?!”

…York chuckles to himself as the crowd starts a full-in “FUCK YOU YORK! FUCK YOU YORK!” chant… The official has started a count for Justin’s extended stay on the ropes, but Justin’s careful to break the five-count before a DQ.

TODD: York being warned by the referee here to get back into the ring. For some reason, the guy who has done whatever he damn well pleased since he arrived obliges.

BAMA: The Revolution Champion won't change hands on a DQ, sure. But this is about attention! TV time!

TODD: Shouting through the cameras at Mister Duke?

BAMA: Precisely!

York smacks his hands together, as if ready to give the crowd the show they came for…

Hixx shakes off the cobwebs, slowly rising to her feet, as York lackadaisically walks over to finisher her off…

York grabs Hixx by the hair, dragging her up to her fe-

WHAM! From outta nowhere, Latoya drives her skull STRAIGHT into York’s orbital bone!

DESPERATION HEADBUTT!

TODD: Whoa!

York’s cocky smirk vanishes into a sudden, dazed scowl… The champ stumbles back into the corner, blinking stars from his eyes!

Latoya’s skull clearly didn’t go undamaged from that headbutt... Latoya's head hangs heavy, woozy from that strike AND York’s early dominance… But she knows this is her only chance! She shoves herself off the mat, giving this charge all she’s got!

York squeezes the bridge of his nose, pain emanating through his aching skull… Finally, he manages to clear enough stars out of his eyes…

To see the runaway freight train that is Latoya Hixx coming at him!

CORNER SPLASH!

…

CONNECTS!

Hixx EMBEDS the Revolution champion into the corner, using her bodybuilder mass masterfully! York crumples against the turnbuckles, looking like the air got crushed out of him!

TODD: Don't look now, Bama, but your boy's strategy may have just started to backfire!

BAMA: I never said that he should take his victory for granted...

TODD: It's not much of a statement for the bully to get what's coming to them, eh?

The crowd goes absolutely electric for the possibility of Latoya Hixx’s first championship win (and also someone shutting up Justin York)... Hixx grasps York by the top of the head to drag him out of the corner…

WHAM! York catches her with a gut punch! Hixx doubles over, staggering back toward the center of the ring!

…York sneers furiously, angry that this insolent ingrate dares to challenge him! He charges at Hixx looking to finish her…

CLOTHESLINE FROM HELL!

…

NO! Hixx ducked under! Catching York under the breastbone… And using his forward momentum to heave him off his feet! Into powerslam position!

The crowd rumbles, electricity coursing through every seat in the house as Hixx…

Hucks York backwards over her head!

FALLAWAY SLAM!

York gets flung like a sack of Toronto potatoes from one of end of the ring to the other!

TODD: She's building momentum, Bama!

BAMA: This is not looking good. Come on, York! Dig down deep!

TODD: I can't believe you're rooting for this man.

BAMA: I'm a realist.

The crowd erupts as Latoya screams out in adrenaline-fueled triumph! She slams her fists against her chest, then locks eyes on York, who’s slowly crawling to his knees.

Hixx charges—and BICYCLE KICK!

…

CONNECTS! The crowd is stunned! Is this really happening?!?

York snaps backward and crashes flat.

ONE!

TWO!!

THRE-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

York kicks out at 2.9! His eyes burst open in panic, as if it just dawned on him what it’d do to his claims of kingliness if he ate a loss tonight to Latoya Hixx.

TODD: OHHH! That just almost really happened!

BAMA: Layota Hixx almost won her first championship here in the XWF.

TODD: Well, according to York's belt, she'd be representing PWV too.

BAMA: Oh lord. Come on, York! Get your head outta your-

Latoya sits up, panting hard, eyes wide with disbelief. Her face twists—not just in frustration, but hope. Her fists shake as she gets to her feet, full of determination!

She grips York by the ankle…

But York, with veteran tact, rolls away to the ropes! Hixx tries to drag him away from the ropes, but the official steps up to break the action until York is out of the ropes!

Hixx tries to reach through the official, clearly sensing this is her moment to strike, trying to tear York away from the ropes…

But York reaches a hand over the official!

And jams a thumb into Hixx’s eye!

TODD: No! That bastard!

Hixx goes to cover her face, blinded! The official manages to push Hixx away from the champ, having completely missed the blatant cheating that took place inches above his head.

York breathes a sigh of relief from the ropes… He approaches Hixx cockily from behind as she tries to rub her eyes back to normal…

York grabs Hixx by the back of the skull! And goes to whip her around! Front-facelock!

He points to the sky!

CANADIAN BRAINBU-

NO!

Hixx manages to hook her heel around York’s ankle, blocking York’s finisher!

York is caught off-guard, not expecting the typically limited skillset of Hixx to permit her to block his move!

Hixx’s eyes flash with wild defiance! This is her chance!

She breaks York’s grip, just like he did to her earlier…

York’s hands go to strikes both sides of his opponent’s skull!

EAR CL-

NO!

Hixx’s dips under the strike… And her arms snake around York's torso!

BEAR HUG!

The arena explodes! Hixx has locked in her signature submission maneuver!

BAMA: You have got to be kidding me!

TODD: Upset alert! Upset alert! This could all be over for King York!

BAMA: I swear, y'all won't let me ride off into the sunset easily.

York’s eyes bulge, mouth open in a silent yell. His spine bends. His arms flail. Latoya shakes him like a ragdoll, sweat pouring off her face as she screams through gritted teeth, summoning every ounce of strength she has.

…His arm raises…

…

Will it fall?

…

NO!

…

York’s fingers claw at her shoulders, then his face hardens with steely resolve.

He reels his neck back…

HEADBUTT!

Latoya’s grip loosens… her arm strength starts to falter!

HEADBUTT!

She stumbles, her eyes glazed over.

HEADBUTT!

BAMA: He's fighting back!

Hixx lets go. And drops to a knee.

York staggers back, wiping blood from his brow, his face a mixture of fury and desperation. He wraps Latoya in a front facelock, and snap her up into the air…

CANADIAN BRAINBUSTER!

BOOM. Skull meets mat.

York crawls over, snarling through the pain.

ONE!

TWO!!

THREE!!!

TODD: Oh, damn.

Winner and still XWF Revolution Champion: “King” Justin York!

York rolls to the ropes, barely able to stand. The referee raises his arm, but he swats it away. He stands over the fallen Latoya, chest heaving. Then—classic York—he sneers and raises his arms once more, looking straight into the camera.

"That one was for you, Thaddeus."

TODD: Yeah, yeah. And you gotta throw one last jab at Mr. Duke. So much for a statement victory.

BAMA: Years from now, all anyone is going to remember was that on my final night with the company, King Justin York successfully defended his Revolution Championship.

TODD: He better count his lucky stars he didn't fumble it.

BAMA: Listen. It ain't easy climbing up that ladder. You gotta scratch, claw, fight for every bit of attention you receive. You can be upset all you want, but Hixx had her chance. And before it's all said and done, she'll probably have a thousand more.

TODD: That's true.

BAMA: York came to Anarchy to send a message. Now I can't wait for Rebellion to see if that message was received.

TODD: Oh, there may be hell to pay at Rebellion. But like you said, we'll have to wait and see... hold on a second, I'm being told we're being interrup-

[Image: wireline.png]

The Camera pans from York successfully defending his Revolution Title to the locker room…

Where, in the back, who is watching the action?

But Warfare GM Peter Principle and Assistant Warfare GM Pip Collins.

”What about him? Justin York’s been on the hottest streak. AND he’s a “King.” Pip muses thoughtfully. ”He might be the perfect opponent for lil Comrade Waters and the end of her movement ‘giving the power back to the ‘People.” Pip punctuates his perspective with finger-quotes.

”Pfffff.” Principle scoffs, dismissively. ”After the way he opened the show? Taking pot-shots on Mister Duke’s management? Are you even thinking?”

”I mean, if I’m not, who is?”

”What?”

”Hmm?”

…

”No.” Principle turns back to the monitor. ”We need an opponent that is amenable to the status quo. That DOESN’T remind the audience constantly about their issues with management. York may be self-interested, but he’s a different manifestation of the same disease.”

”These EMPLOYEES… biting the hand that feeds.”

”We need someone willing to bend the knee. Someone that will embarrass Dolly Waters so completely in the ring, that Thaddeus Duke will have NO CHOICE but to accept my decision to terminate her contract.”

”...Wow. That’s… extreme.”

”We’re in the land of X-Treme, Pip. It took me a while to learn that, but it’s a lesson I won’t forget any time soon.”

…

”Hmm. I mean, if you’re looking for a minion who would do anything you say for a title shot, Latoya Hixx was also in that match.”

”If you keep barking out poor suggestions, Collins? Dolly’s not the only one hitting the unemployment line after Rebellion.”

…

Collins side-eyes Principle, surprised…

As the feed cuts to commercial.

[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: What the hell was that?

BAMA: Chill out, Todderick. I'm about to do my thing here-

TODD: First we have PWV trying to take over. Now the Warfare General Manager and his Co-GM want to take up our airtime too?

BAMA: It's not that big of a deal.

TODD: They had their show this week. They had their time. This is our time, Bama-man!

BAMA: You're cutting into my time now, Todderick.

TODD: What?

BAMA: You know, the new thing I am about to debut?

TODD: Oh?

BAMA: ...

TODD: OH! Oh, right! Sorry!

BAMA: ...

TODD: Please, continue!

BAMA: Sheesh. Ladies and Gentlemen, it is finally my honor and privilege to announce to you, our very first recipient of the XWF Anarchy Superstar Spotlight... it is our very own Marisol Vilaro!

Anarchy Superstar Spotlight
[Image: sBl6cUO.png]

BAMA: Are you sick and tired of being sick and tired? Well then, do yourself a favor. Get that big fat you-know-what off of the couch, after Anarchy, and waddle yourself right into the VilaroFit™ system!

Marisol Vilaro is not just a valued member of the A-show brand. No, no, no! Behind the beautiful eyes of this Barcelona native lies a fire and a passion rarely seen outside of the competitive realm. Marisol used that passion to develop her body into a fierce, lean, fighting machine! But through all her trials and tribulations, Vilaro still maintained passion and empathy for her fellow man.

That's why she openly sells her patented, fully developed and tested VilaroFit™ system to the masses like you! Not just for profit, but so that you may benefit from her knowledge and wisdom as well. So once again, I urge you. Take time out of your miserable life to shed those unwanted tons. Become less of yourself. Put the cheeseburger down and order a VilaroFit™ Fitness Package today!

Use the code: "A-Show Fitness Goddess" to receive 6.9 percent off of your entire order!

TODD: Nice.

BAMA: And if you think you can do any better than Marisol Vilaro and her Black Rainbow brethren, well then, sign your big ass up for Anarchy right now and step into the ring with the likes of Marisol and many, many others who will probably crush you in the first five seconds - because you didn't order your VilaroFit™ system you fat piece of...!

TODD: DVD player and TV sold separately.

BAMA: Of course they're sold separately, Todderick. But the first 1000 orders will get a cheaply made XWF travel mug thrown in... so you can choke down your VilaroFit™ protein powder shake like our hunter-gatherer ancestors would have wanted you to.

TODD: Perfect.

BAMA: You think so?

TODD: I could've said it any better myself, Bama-man.

BAMA: You couldn't. That's why they asked me to do it!

TODD: Congratulations to Marisol Vilaro! We here at Anarchy love and appreciate everything you bring to our brand! With that being said, though, I'm getting word that something else is going on backstage... we'll take you there right now before we get interrupted aga-!

[Image: wireline.png]

“Spoiled” Summer Page is sitting in a chair in an empty room backstage of the David Mckeever Post 64 bingo hall in Buffalo, New York. As she is on her phone she looks a bit annoyed while she listens to the person on the other end of the line.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: Let me tell you this once again, Richard, that despite what Shark thinks and says our “relationship” is nothing more than just business…

Richard Powers: And like I’ve said many times before, Mi Amour, that I will always love you but you cannot cheat on me with another man. Especially a man like Shark…

“Spoiled” Summer Page: I’M NOT IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH YOU OR SHARK, RICHARD!!!!

Richard Powers: You can be as mean as you are beautiful, my goddess.

Summer stands up and kicks the wall in frustration.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: Why do I allow you to continue to talk to me? You’re old, creepy, a pervert, unhygienic, broke, and don’t respect boundaries….

Richard Powers: Pfffft, boundaries? Those don’t apply to me…

“Spoiled” Summer Page: Explains why Thaddeus got one over on you!!!

Richard Powers: Ouch! Mi Amour! Just when I think you can’t break my heart anymore…

“Spoiled” Summer Page: Shut up!!!! I have a fiance that isn’t you and surely isn’t Shark!!!

Summer turns around to see Shark standing in the doorway holding a bouquet of red roses.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: OMG WHY?!?!?!

Richard Powers: I always knew you’d come around…

Shark walks in as Summer shakes her head.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: Wait? What? No not you, Richard! I’ve got to go.

Richard Powers: I love you, too.

Summer hangs up her phone.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: What the hell are you doing?

Shark has an immediate stink face before he looks over his shoulders. Once he realizes Summer’s comments are directed towards him he shakes his head and drops the bouquet of roses down onto a table in front of her.

Shark: Listen girl, you gon’ have to lose that attitude. You can talk to that smelly frenchy Richard like that and Craig all you want but I ain’t them.

He walks around the chair so that he is behind her, he begins to give her shoulders a deep massage.

Shark: I get it. You tense. But look it - last time was my bad on the roses. I shouldn’t have sent them over like that. I wasn’t tryin’ to put you in the difficult position with that bot you stay with. That’s why this time I’m deliverin’ em personally.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: Are you telling me you get all your friends and business associates flowers? Including the male friends and business associates?

Summer crosses her arms and gives Shark the evil eye.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: Because if you can show me that you do then I’ll stop giving you a hard time about always giving me flowers.

Shark closes his eyes looking annoyed, he takes a deep breath before reopening them. His grip loosens on her shoulders, his hands fall to his hips.

Shark: Summer your fine ass couldn’t stop givin’ me a “HARD” time if you tried.

He chuckles after emphasizing the word hard. He then spins her chair around so that she is facing him. He squats down so that they are eye to eye, face to face.

Shark: You don’t want the goddamn flowers? Fine. Give em’ to Solomon for his funeral because you dropped the ball on winning the Revolution Championship last show and you need to put that man in the dirt now to send a message.

There’s some fire in his eyes. The same fire he’s had in his last few matches. He wants that for her, she can tell.

Shark: Instead of all the bullshit you be givin’ me you should be showin’ me some love and appreciation because I’m still out here givin’ you the time of day with these losses you been havin’. But that’s what real friends are for right, Summer? Through thick and thin.

He gives her a big smile then rises up to his feet.

Shark: Now if you done hangin’ around this small, empty room… I’d like to show you something.

He reaches out and extends his hand to her so that she can grab it. That big smile still on his face. Summer looks at Shark’s face then looks at his extended hand, and looks back at his face.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: Why do I need to hold your hand to walk with you?

Summer crosses her arms and glares at Shark. Shark sucks his teeth and fights the temptation to frown. He watches as she crosses her arms as if to protect her hand.

Shark: Because we buddies, Summer. Why you makin’ everything so weird? You afraid of what people think? I took you as a bad bitch that didn’t give a shit. You can shake a million dirty, greasy, hot dog hands from sweaty, fat men and women at meet and greets but can’t hold my clean, coconut lotioned hand for 30 seconds?

He waves his hand closer to her. Summer moves her arm back.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: Do you take me for a basic bitch who is going to fall for that lame ass peer pressure? If you want to show me something then lead the way. I’ll follow.

His hand stops waving near her throat, it freezes, forms into a gripping gesture. He shakes it as if he is fighting back the urge to strangle her, he takes a big deep breath and puts his hand down to his side.

Shark: The patience I got to have with you I swear to God.

He raises his leg up and brings his foot crashing down as he does a little footstomp.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: What? I have a man and I ain’t like these skanks you get with….

Shark: No. You don’t got a "man"…

Shark mutters then spins around and begins to stomp out of the room, looking like a damn child. Summer rolls her eyes as she begins to follow him and they stop at a door. It is a big fancy metal door that has the nameplates: JAMES SHARK and SUMMER PAGE in the middle outlined by a big gold heart. Shark scratches his head in confusion.

Shark: Whaaaaaaaat????

He looks closely and confused at the gold heart, even touching it as he can’t believe it’s on there. He turns to look at Summer.

Shark: That’s so weird. Who the hell put that there?? Not me.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: Yeah, I’m sure you have no idea how that happened.

Summer rolls her eyes as Shark turns the knob and slowly opens the door.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: What’s this?

Shark doesn’t say anything, he just nods his head into the room for her to find out for herself. She’s hesitant but takes a step in. The first thing that could be noticed was the RGB lighting coming from the thundercloud effect on the ceiling. Upon entry there was a big banner on the wall featuring them.


There were leather couches along the walls and a mini bar in the corner, Summer could even spot an air hockey table. As she walked further in she could see on one end of the room was a big locker that had her name on it and on the other end was Shark’s locker. No divide as she had requested.

Shark begins to jump up and down behind her.

Shark: Well ????? What you think ???? Did I snap or DID I SNAP !???

Summer looks around in disbelief.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: DAMN! As someone who grew up in lavish monstrosities this is some kind of monstrosity…

Shark stops jumping, he tilts his head to the side like a confused dog.

Shark: Say what??… monstru….monstrsio…

He has trouble saying the word as it wasn’t part of his vocabulary, he gives up and shakes his head.

Shark: The hell that supposed to mean, are you talking shit or do you fuck with it!??

A stunned Summer continues to look around.

“Spoiled” Summer Page: Will you stop being so damn sensitive?!?! This is just a lot…Especially for an event at a bingo hall!

Shark: Bingo hall, stadium, backyard it don’t matter. This our locker room now wherever we make an appearance.

The camera follows Summer as she continues to explore the room before the camera turns to the large banner of the two of them. As the camera zooms into the banner the audience can hear Summer go “Wait… Why is it one big room and not two rooms like we agreed!?” before the scene fades to black.

[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: What is up with all of the banners here tonight?

BAMA: Again. One of our champions. James Shark can hang any banner he wants wherever he damn-well pleases.

TODD: I don't necessarily disagree, T. I'm just saying it's an odd bit of coincidence. Every time I look around I see 12 more PWV banners, and now this?

BAMA: Yeah, but that 'All Eyes on Us' banner is pretty fire though, Todderick. I think the Universal Champ's graphics department needs a bonus. God damn that looks good!

TODD: It seems like Shark and Summer are still figuring out some of the finer details of potentially sharing a locker room.

BAMA: Oh boy, Shark's trying to get into more than just Summer's locker room, if you know what I'm saying.

TODD: What?

BAMA: What?

TODD: Regardless, Summer Page has bigger things to worry about right now in the form of Solomon Kline, because her two out of three falls match with him is coming up, next!


"Forgotten" by The Plot In You plays throughout the arena. The lights go out. Once the beat drops, a spotlight shines on the entryway, where SOLOMON KLINE appears inside the light, clad in a black hoodie over his ring gear and kneeling on his right knee.

TODD: Making his way to the ring first is the Second-Generation superstar Solomon Kline. You can see it in his eyes that he knows he's about to go through war.

BAMA: The self-proclaimed Rookie of the Year has an uphill battle ahead of him to reach that mark. But a victory here tonight would go a long way towards cementing his case for a Rookie of the Year nod.

TODD: We know Solomon wants to impress. He's a young man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. But every week, every show, Solomon figures out a bit more, gradual but steady improvement.

BAMA: I wouldn't be surprised to look up a year or two from now and see Kline in the same spot that James Shark is in right now.

TODD: Me either!

As the lyrics come in, he stands, removes his hood and surveys the crowd as sparks rain down around him. He grooves his way toward the ring, and high fives fans along the way. He circles the ring and slides under the bottom rope. He continues rocking out to the song and at the 1:50 mark, he goes to the turnbuckle with a primal scream as the lyrics say "I have spent my life chasing things that have only brought me pain. In the end when I'm dead, hope it was for something!"

He returns to the ring and readies himself for the match.


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: And his opponent, Summer Page, looks ready as ever.

BAMA: Why wouldn't she be? She's been hyped up by the highest champion in the land of the x-treme. If anyone can help you get your head in the game, it's Mister Trash Talk Royalty himself!

TODD: Shark sees something in her, I'll give you that. I have my doubts that Shark's interest is purely plutonic and professional, but if-

BAMA: Hey hey hey- Don't you dare put words in our Universal Champion's mouth!

TODD: Ugh. Well, what I was going to say is, Summer has been this close to being an XWF champion in her own right. If James Shark can help her achieve her dreams, I'm sure she'll take whatever hype or advice she can get!

BAMA: I'll settle for taking access to his graphics department. God damn!

TODD: Good freakin' luck, Bama-man. You ain't nearly as pretty as Summer Page!

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.

SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
SOLOMON KLINE
BEST TWO OUT OF THREE FALLS

Once the bell rings, Summer Page and Solomon Kline being circling one another.

They lock up—tight collar and elbow. Solomon grits his teeth, muscles bulging as he tries to push her back, only for Summer to plant her heels and twist with sharp technique, slipping into a wristlock, before twisting it into a hammerlock!

Summer’s face is still, but her narrowed eyes track every reaction Solomon gives, measuring. Solomon winces, sucking air through his teeth…

Summer tries to apply additional pressure on the arm…

But Solomon twists his arm, ducking under Summer’s! He follows it with a swift roll and kip-up and manages to pretzel Summer’s arm into a wristlock of his own!

Summer grits her teeth at the reversal, her eyes darting briefly toward the ropes—calculating. She yanks Solomon toward her, ducking under his arm and taking his back.

When Summer dives forward to attack, Solomon drops to one knee, pulling Summer over in a fireman’s carry!

TODD: A much different start to this match, Bama! From two competitors that clearly respect the other's wrestling prowess.

BAMA: A little bit of catch-as-catch-can classic posturing with the ol' collar-and-elbow and reversals.

TODD: It's a good way to feel your opponent out.

BAMA: I prefer punching my foes in their faces. But to each their own, I imagine.

As Summer hits the mat with a thud, her expression flashes frustration—just a flicker. She and Kline both rise off the mat at the same time, and Summer quickly snatches a side headlock. Solomon tries to shove his way out, but Summer grips tight and forces her weight down, dragging the larger Kline off his feet and onto a knee!

Summer wrenches down, biting her lower lip in determination, intent on keeping the pace slow and technical.

Solomon’s brow furrows contemplatively… pushes up to a base, his eyes darting to the ropes, then plants his foot—lifting Summer up and tossing her toward the ropes with force!

Summer rolls through gracefully into a somersault that stops her from being propelled back into a strike from Solomon. She turns around…

And with a burst of speed, Solomon charges. Summer’s expression shifts to alert surprise, but before she can react, she’s taken off her feet by a thunderous shoulder block!

Summer’s back SLAMS against the mat!

BAMA: Big impact there!

TODD: Kline using his size and strength advantage here.

BAMA: Leverage, too.

TODD: Yeah, sure. Whatever works, right?

BAMA: Hey, it ain't a bad strategy to sometimes hurl your body at your opponent. Especially if you're twice their size.

Solomon’s face contorts into a wild grin. He bounds off the ropes, backflipping into a standing moonsault.

But Summer’s body jerks to the side—too fast for thought, purely reaction! Solomon crashes chest-first into the mat, the air rushing out of him with a dull thud!

TODD: Except this time, it backfired!

BAMA: I'm impressed the 27-year-old can move his body like that.

Summer’s eyes blaze now—controlled aggression. Her lips curl into a cold smile as she grabs Solomon’s arm and twists into a Fujiwara armbar, yanking back. Solomon groans, teeth bared in agony.

Summer adjusts from Solomon’s side to above his back, pressing her knee between his shoulder blades. Her brows knit with ruthless focus!

TODD: I don't think it's meant to move like that, though.

BAMA: Don't insult me, Todderick.

TODD: I didn't mean to!

Solomon claws at the mat, then drives his knee under him, fighting to rise—but Summer shifts again, floating over into a front facelock, dragging him down into a grounded headlock. Her teeth press against her bottom lip as she applies the pressure. Solomon’s face tightens, his breathing labored. He slams a fist to the mat—not in surrender, but rage.

She transitions again—now into a deep seated surfboard, wrenching his shoulders back. Solomon’s jaw opens in a silent yell, back arched unnaturally. But he refuses to quit, shaking his head violently as the referee asks if he’d like to submit!

TODD: Summer Page really working to secure that first fall!

BAMA: Having the first of the potential three falls is a HUGE advantage. Allows you some wiggle room for in case things don't go too well later on.

TODD: Perhaps allows you to take a few more chances to end this contest early?

BAMA: Precisely.

Summer yanks Solomon off his knees by the hair.

Her eyes are gleaming now. It’s time.

Solomon tries to battle for space… But Summer throws a hip to his gut! Kline doubles over winded…

Summer cinches a front facelock, aiming for Pure Perfection.

But Solomon, even dazed, reads it! Kline grunts, planting his feet, shoving her backward hard into the ropes.

BAMA: Countered!

Summer’s surprised gasp leaves her lips as she rebounds. Solomon plants his feet, eyes alight with defiant fury. His fist winds up… And he leaps!

TODD: He's looking for it, Bama!

ASHES TO ASH-

NO! Summer ducks, her face contorted into a tight sneer of awareness. She slides under his arm like silk!

Solomon’s expression twists mid-spin into panic—too much momentum. As he lands, Summer latches on with a waistlock, teeth clenched, muscles taut. She hauls with everything she’s got!

GERMAN SUPL-

NO! Solomon snarls and hooks his ankle around hers! His body tightens, refusing to budge. Summer growls—a rare crack in her mask of poise—and switches strategy, somersaulting backward in a flash into an O’Connor Roll!

She presses down on his legs, every muscle locked, biting her tongue in determination.

ONE!

TW-

Before even a two-count, Solomon rolls backward, twisting and reversing the hold into an O’Connor Roll of his own. His face is tight with resolve, veins in his arms standing out.

ONE!

TWO!

THRE-NO!

Summer kicks out instinctively, her face curled in a snarl as she shoves him away with both boots!

BAMA: Two damn-near falls in a row! That O'Connor Roll is a dangerous game.

TODD: Probably best for Summer to kick out of that one and move on!

Solomon hits the ropes from the force of the kick and bounces back—his eyes burning with a spark of vengeance. Summer rises—

BOOM! ASHES TO ASHES!

Summer’s head snaps back, body spinning to the mat as Solomon drops to a cover, hooking the leg tight, mouth open in a victorious yell.

ONE!


TWO!


THREE!

Solomon Kline: 1
Summer Page: 0


TODD: On second thought, Solomon Kline catches her with the Ashes to Ashes, and takes that huge one-oh advantage!

BAMA: Clutch timing by the second-generation superstar there, Toddy. Now he's firmly in the driver's seat!

Solomon rolls to his back, gasping for air, sweat dripping from his brow but his eyes gleaming.

Summer stares at the lights, chest heaving, lips parted in shock as the weight of the moment sinks in. Her hand lifts to her jaw. She didn’t see that coming.

Solomon Kline rises from the canvas like a storm gathering strength—his chest heaving, jaw clenched, eyes lit with a fire that borders on disbelief.

Summer, however, is already pushing herself upright, her jaw tense, mouth drawn in a tight line. She nods once, subtly—acknowledging the loss, but not surrendering an inch of ground mentally.

Then—she sprints.

TODD: We're not wasting any time here!

BAMA: Here we go, second fall starts now!

TODD: And Summer needs both!

Solomon’s smirk vanishes in a blink, his eyes flaring wide with surprise as Summer crashes into him with a running high knee that slams flush against his jaw. His head snaps back as he stumbles into the corner, arms slack against the ropes. Summer's face twists with intensity, breathing heavy through her nostrils like a predator closing in.

Grabbing a fistful of his hair, she yanks him to a seated position on the top rope. " She climbs the ropes quickly, swinging her legs up…

FRANKENST-

NO! Solomon’s teeth grit in midair and he brings his fist down hard into her midsection.

Summer gasps—loud and sharp—as the wind rushes out of her lungs. Her body seizes and drops, falling back-first onto the canvas. Solomon steadies himself, one hand clutching the top rope, the other pressing to his ribs. His face is twisted in pain, but his eyes glimmer with intent. He’s going to end it.

BAMA: You were talking about chances earlier...

TODD: Solomon Kline is in a prime position. I don't know what he's thinking right now, but he has to see victory in his sights!

BAMA: Imagine going 2-0 and sweeping Summer Page. That has to be the kind of performance the Rookie of the Year expects from himself.

He stands tall, pointing two fingers to the sky, then leaps off—looking to land a punishing aerial strike.

But Summer’s eyes flick open. Instinct. Desperation. Survival.

Solomon leaps!

MISSILE DROPK-

NO! Summer kicks up both feet and dropkicks Solomon in mid-air, her boots smashing into his gut! The crowd gasps in unison.

TODD: Oh my god!

BAMA: Somebody may be injured... I just don't know who.

Solomon crashes to the mat in a heap, dazed and clutching his jaw, his legs kicking reflexively. Summer quickly scrambles off the mat, draping her body across his chest, hooking the leg tight, her face buried against his shoulder in effort.

ONE!

TWO!

THRE-NO! Solomon jerks his shoulder up!

TODD: How in the hell did he just kickout?

BAMA: Sometimes taking those high-risk chances don't pay off. Good to know the kid has the fortitude to battle back when they don't.

TODD: He's not a kid, Bama-man.

BAMA: Is to me!

Summer exhales sharply, blowing a loose strand of hair from her face. Her eyes narrow. She pushes to her knees, shaking the cobwebs, then grabs Solomon by the wrist and shoulder, dragging him up from the mat with deliberate force.

But Solomon growls and breaks her grip! He lunges forward, wraps one giant hand around her throat—his grip iron-tight—and lifts her high into the air—

CHOKESLAM!

The ring shakes as Summer crashes back-first against the canvas. Solomon drops to one knee, breathing hard, his face glowing with the thrill of dominance. His gaze flicks down to Summer, prone and vulnerable.

BAMA: Oh, that was absolutely massive.

He rises slowly, methodically. No wasted motion. He crosses behind her limp form, hooks her arms, as he sits atop her back—ready to put an exclamation mark on the match with Dust to Dust!

…But Summer’s eyes blaze open!

She plants her feet, twists—spins into a Backslide, dropping to her knees with a surge of momentum, pulling Solomon’s shoulders to the mat!

TODD: Counter!

His eyes go wide in panic, arms flailing to escape.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

Solomon Kline: 1
Summer Page: 1


TODD: She got him! She did it! The score is tied one to one!

BAMA: I know Kline's gotta be frustrated. He really thought he had her there with the Dust to Dust. But he left himself far too open there and it cost him. Luckily though, this match will continue!

TODD: I mean, if it was one fall, Kline would have won ten minutes ago.

BAMA: And he can still win. But now he's got to shake off the mental mistake and move on.

Solomon kicks out a heartbeat too late, rolling away in stunned silence. His body jerks to a seated position, hands running through his damp hair, eyes locked on the referee in disbelief.

Summer’s on her back, breathing hard, but a slight nod to herself on the mat. Her chest rises and falls with effort, but her eyes sparkle with the glow of survival.

The crowd’s roar reaches a fever pitch as both Summer Page and Solomon Kline push up from opposite sides of the ring. Their bodies are bruised, breath ragged, hair soaked with sweat—but their eyes?

Locked. On fire.

TODD: Listen to this sold-out crowd!

BAMA: 400 people sound like 400 thousand in this old Bingo Hall. But damn, I'm loving the vibe. These two battling it out are making me question retirement!

TODD: Really?

BAMA: No.

Solomon slaps his chest, breathing through clenched teeth, eyes narrowed, fists clenched so tight his knuckles are white. Summer bites her lower lip, rolling her neck with an audible crack, her jaw set, expression ice-cold and focused.

They charge.

Their hands collide in a tangle of limbs—wrist holds, switches, duck-unders!

Solomon wrenches Summer’s wrist with a burst of strength, twisting her arm behind her back!

But Summer winces but pivots smoothly, ducking under and reversing the pressure!

BUT! Solomon jerks his arm free, slipping behind into a hammerlock.

BUT! Summer spins again, hooking his wrist, pushing off his back for a roll-up attempt…

BUT! Solomon rolls through it, turning it into another wristlock!

TODD: They're going back to the beginning again, but more intense!

BAMA: We're seeing two superstars in the ring that both really need this win so badly that they're doing everything they can not to lose.

They're spiraling in circles, every hold answered with a counter, every shift neutralized. Their movements are faster than thought now—desperation driving instinct!

Solomon suddenly lets go and swings for a short-arm clothesline…

NO! Summer ducks.

Page spins and throws a forearm!

NO! Solomon sways back, missing it by inches.

A pause—both of them wide-eyed, breathing heavily, standing just out of reach, adrenaline surging like electricity.

Summer snarls and rears back—SUPERKICK!

NO! Solomon ducks low—SUPERKICK FROM KLINE!

…

CONNECTS

TODD: The amount of countering going on in the later third of this three-part match is unreal!

BAMA: They're really getting to know each other in there.

The heel of his boot cracks against Summer’s jaw!

Her eyes glaze over, body shuddering. She stumbles backwards, arms limp at her sides, her back colliding with the ropes. Her fingers barely curl around the top rope as her knees tremble.

Solomon sees it.

His lips peel back in a primal yell. He pumps his fist once—

He leaps—ASHES TO ASHES!

…

NO! Summer—sidesteps!

TODD: ASHES TO- NO!

BAMA: Damn, that was close!

A reflex, pure and unconscious. Solomon’s forearm cuts through nothing but air.

His boots skid across the mat—and then a boot to the gut folds him in half.

Summer's face is sheer instinct now—wide eyes, teeth gritted in resolve as she clasps his head in a tight front facelock. No time to think.

She lifts her hand high in the air.

The crowd knows.

PURE PERFECTION!

…

CONNECTS

BAMA: She got 'im with the Pure Perfection, Todderick!

TODD: Page got all of it, too!

She bridges, holding it tight—every muscle screaming, body arched, hair fanned across the mat.

ONE!


TWO!


THREE!

Summer Page: 2
Solomon Kline: 1

WINNER: SUMMER PAGE

TODD: Oh my goodness, what an intense match!

BAMA: If that's the way that I've got to go out, then I'm proud to have witnessed this fight on my final show on commentary.

TODD: These two athletes, no, superstars, threw absolutely everything they had at each other!

BAMA: And Summer Page had to dig down deep after going down in the first fall to pick up the next two. What a performance by her, and by Kline as well.

TODD: It's not going to be any solace for Solomon, who feels like he's been in a bit of a funk. But he came out swinging and it looks like the crowd is giving both of these fighters the round of applause they deserve.

BAMA: I don't care what they say. I'd get a number-one contendership designation on Summer Page yesterday after that performance. I wanna see Summer Page finally take that next step and be a champion here that the XWF can be proud of.

TODD: Absolutely. The future is bright! ...hold on. Wait. What do you mean we're being interrupted a third ti-

[Image: wireline.png]

The Camera pans away from the electrifying two-out-of-three falls match, with Summer Page narrowly surviving Solomon Kline…

”Two good options there, Pete.”

…

Principle side-eyes Collins, disdain dripping from his eyes.

”...Uh… Mister Principle, I mean.”

“I mean, if you’re looking for symbols of the establishment to sink Dolly’s ship… Summer’s the daughter of a billionaire! Solomon Kline’s a second-generation star! Oligarchy! Nepotism!”

”...No.” Peter shakes his head. ”Summer’s too much of a goody two-shoes to blot out the Revolution… And… I have *other* plans for Kline. He’s a willing footsoldier in my other war against Black Rainbow.”

”Oh? Part of that anti-Black Rainbow “crack squad” you mentioned on Warfare?”

”THAT’S ON A NEED TO KNOW BASIS, COLLINS.”

…

”No. Neither will serve to end Dolly’s movement.”

”Well… oh! You know who could beat Dolly Waters?”

Peter turns around, silently intrigued.

”Aurora!”

…

”HAHAHAHAHA!” Principle doubles over slapping his knee.

Collins leans back, pleased at his own j-

”COLLINS.” Principle suddenly stops laughing and points his finger right under Collins’ nose! ”I SAID NO BAD IDEAS. NOT EVEN AS JOKES.”

…

Principle turns away from Collins, eyeing the screen once more.

”I need the perfect anti-Revolutonary. One who… when they defeat Dolly Waters, prove, ONCE and FOR ALL, the FOLLY of the entire misguided Revolution! Someone malleable. Someone you could stuff in a Coke and a Pepsi commercial in the same advertising break. Someone wh-”

”Someone you can CONTROL completely, right?”

Principle and Collins spin around, shocked!

”What’s that?!? Who goes that?!?”

Stepping out from the shadows…

”Your personal savior…”

Elon Musk!

”You want a wrestling superstar you can control?”

…Principle raises an eyebrow intrigued.

”My Chad GPT will be at your beck and call… He literally comes with a controller!” Elon Musk lifts a third-party PS1 gamepad. ”Or…” Elon lobs the controller over his shoulder. ”Let his perfectly-tuned autopilot wrestling programming SILENCE your rabble-rousing foes! He’s the PERFECT, CORPORATE WARRIOR.”

Collins sneers distastefully. ”Sir, I don’t think this is a g-”

”SILENCE, COLLINS.”

…

”What are Chad’s credentials?”

”Undefeated on Anarchy!”

”...Ooooh, so he’s the best car on the lot.”

”...Sir, Chad was the first one out of the King’s Tourney Battle Royal!”

”Slight programming error! I’ve worked out all his bugs and he’s ready to deploy!”

…

”And… I can’t imagine you’re offering him to us out of the goodness of your heart. What do you want for Chad’s service?”

…Elon starts salivating thinking about the object of his desire.

”...I want Chad competing for the Universal title.”

…

”And you can GUARANTEE he’ll THRASH Dolly Waters?”

”100% Success rate!”

…

Principle smiles menacingly.

As the feed cuts to commercial.

[Image: wireline.png]

[Image: QvK52d7.png]

Dolly Waters THE REVOLUTION in association with the XWF Present:

May Day 3!

From Ye Ole Commune in Coreytopia, Florida
Replay available to stream anytime on: XWF99.com

[Image: wireline.png]

In the ring, we have “Cavortin’” Jake Borden, flanked by Roger. Somehow, the two have slipped out from the backstage area without being noticed, which is doubly-impressive considering the Tactilizing orange and green pinstripe suit that Jake is wearing, a gift from his partner here tonight. Roger has his towel in hand, and he’s, well, spitting on it and using it to clean a smudge of dirt off of Jake’s forehead.

TODD: You have got to be kidding me.

BAMA: I don’t understand?

TODD: Jake Borden, and his manager-for-the-night Roger, are out here now in the ring, obviously ready for tonight’s main event.

BAMA: Yeah, and?

TODD: He’s wearing the damn suit.

BAMA: The one Tact gave him?

TODD: Yes!

BAMA: Okay… I don’t see anything wrong with it?

TODD: I’ve never asked this before, but are you colorblind?

Roger checks to make sure he got all of the smudge. Jake asks if he looks good now. Roger smooths out Jake’s eyebrows and then gives him a thumbs up for the all clear. Jake smiles and thanks Roger, before sinking into the near corner. Roger tosses the towel over the rope to the timekeeper before realizing that he needs that and goes diving through the ropes to retrieve it.

BAMA: I think he looks quite…

TODD: Don’t you say it.

BAMA: Tactilizing!

TODD: …nobody even knows what that means, T.

BAMA: Of course they do! And you can know all about it, if you’re willing to fork over the 2,750.

TODD: …come again?


"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.

BAMA: And there he is… the TACTILIZING ONE himself!

TODD: What do you mean, 2,750?!

BAMA: That’s how much it costs!

TODD: Not for me!

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.

BAMA: It’s for everyone.

TODD: I ain’t paying 2,750 dollars to no Larry Tact for no self-help program.

BAMA: That’s because you’ve always been a cheap-ass.

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.

TODD: Listen. Tact might have suckered poor Jake Borden out of three grand but the important thing here tonight is can these two men work together to take on Bobby Bourbon and Oz?

BAMA: That depends highly on how Tactilizing Mister Borden feels here tonight!


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: Man, everytime I see Oz in person, I’m reminded about how frightening some men can be by their physical presence alone.

BAMA: Crazy that Oswald is teaching in a wrestling school now, huh? Been doing it for a while I hear?

TODD: I mean, yes and no. Oz has a lot of those qualities that cannot be taught. But he’s got several years of experience in the ring that can.

BAMA: I wonder how much he charges for wrestling training? Or are you going to accuse him of scamming folks out of their hard-earned money, too?

TODD: Listen. It’s clearly different. Fighting training vs. Tactilizing Training…

BAMA: How is it different?

TODD: What the hell does Tactilizing even mean?!


The entirely epic XTron video of TNGB takes over the arena as the lights dim. A spotlight highlights the ramp, and Thunder Knuckles walks out onto the entrance ramp, hyped and ready to fight, pointing out into the crowd. Behind him, Bobby Bourbon deliberately walks out and stops, also pointing out into the crowd. Both men glance at each other and return their attention to the ring, delivering a no-look fistbump, then in unison point into the ring. The crowd sings along with the song.

*ASSHOLE, DIRTBAG, NO GOOD BASTARDS!*stomp stomp*

TODD: And there they are, needing no formal introduction, but we’re being paid to give them one anyway…

BAMA: It’s our Anarchy Tag-Team Champions - Them No Good Bastards baby, yeah!

TODD: Speaking of peak physical specimens. I mean, within reason of course.

BAMA: No doubt that little Borden is the tiniest one in this matchup by far. But hey, at least he’s got the right Tactilizing attitude and the innovator of Tactilizing himself as his partner! If Jake can lean on Tact tonight, they might just be able to pull off the upset.

TODD: The way the Bastards and Oz fight and the way the rules are set up, I’d personally be more worried about survival if I was Jake Borden.

BAMA: At least Roger is safe tonight. Maybe.

TODD: Not even sure the fans are/were safe tonight.

BAMA: Also true.

TODD: TNGB were able to defeat Borden and Roger to become the second-ever Anarchy Tag-Team Champions, and they haven’t looked back since. They’ve been around almost as forever as two men can be in the XWF, and they’ve been a threat since day one. On paper they’re like the perfect team.

TK slides into the ring and gets up onto a knee, beckoning the crowd as Bobby climbs the steps and enters the ring behind him. TK stands and appeals to the crowd as Bobby raises his arms at 45-degree angles.

TODD: In case anyone is confused about the rules of this matchup, allow me–

BAMA: –ALLOW ME– to give you a rundown, baby: There are no pinfalls: There are no submissions: There are no disqualifications; the only way to win here tonight is for your corner to throw in the towel! 

TODD: And given the current trajectory of these two teams? I believe the backroom of this VFW hall is likely packed full of bet slips on Bobby Bourbon and Mr. Oz…

BAMA: And why wouldn’t they be, Toddy-baby? We have the Anarchy Tag Team Champions represented in one corner, alongside Mr. Oz–an Anarchy Veteran– and on the other side?

TODD: On the other side you have Jake Borden, Larry Tact and Roger… three men who are all coming off of failed championship defenses. One might argue that it could make them hungrier–

BAMA: –but one could argue that perception is reality, baby! And the perception here tonight is we have a corner on one side of the ring full of men who couldn’t defend their gold, while on the other side, we have championship pedigree, and cohesion.



”CAVORTIN” JAKE BORDEN & LARRY TACT w/ ROGER
- vs -
MR. OZ & BOBBY BOURBON w/ THUNDER KNUCKLES

TAG MATCH - NO FALLS- NO SUBMISSION- NO DQ
OPPOSING MANAGER MUST ‘THROW IN THE TOWEL’ TO WIN

The bell rings and we’re starting off with Larry Tact and Mr. Oz!

TODD: If you like powerhouse wrestling, we’re being treated to a doozy right here, Bama!

BAMA: 6’6 260 in Tact… 6’8” THREE-TWENTY-FREAKING-SIX IN OZ! These two don’t just beat the competition, they pulverize them!

The two meet in the middle of the mat, standing face to face. Oz, just a bit taller. On the apron, Bobby is clapping his hands, certain that Oz is about to make quick work of this - - -

HE’S AN XWF ROOKIE, OZ! HE CAN’T THROW BLOWS LIKE US!

Bobby’s words catch Oz’s ear, and in an instant, he’s throwing a haymaker at Tact… BUT TACT THROWS ONE RIGHT BACK!!!

The two behemoths are trading shots back and forth. Tact’s shots are more swift though, more precise, he throws a series of left and rights that connect flush with Oz’s head as the former Anarchy Champion falls back into the ropes - - -Larry granting him no room to breathe.

He pushes Oz hard into the ropes and then whips him across the ring and on the rebound….


SWINGING NECKBREAKER!

Tact is to his feet quick, with a huge pop from the crowd, and an even louder applause from Borden and their manager Roger on the outside.

He picks Oz back up, throwing him into the ropes again, but this time on the rebound - - -HE LOCKS IN A MILLION DOLLAR DREAM SLEEPER HOLD!

TODD: Great thinking here by Larry. He knows that the only way to win this match, is to convince Oz and Bobby’s corner that those two cannot continue. To convince them that going aunty further in this match could result in serious injury. Wearing big old Mr. Oz out with submission holds early is the perfect strategy in a match like this.

BAMA: Yeah, yeah, but if you think Thunder Knuckles is going to be intimidated by this, then you have another thing coming–

Just then, TK smirks from the outside, and hands Bobby Bourbon a chair.

Bourbon nods and climbs through the ropes.. He runs… RIGHT PAST TACT AND OZ!!!

AND SMASHES THE CHAIR OVER BORDEN’S HEAD ON THE APRON!

THE SEAT BUSTS OUT OF THE FRAME!

Roger is frantic, rushing over to check on Borden who’s fallen from the apron.

THROW IN THE TOWEL, ROG’ OR I’MMA HURT HIM EVEN WORSE!

Roger damn near has tears in his eyes.

BUT TACT!


He drops the submission hold on OZ and - - -

THE HUMBLING!

Tact plants Bobby with the uranage suplex…. AND DOESN’T LET GO!!!!

He’s got Bobby locked in a HARA GATAMAE ARM BAR!

TODD: A brilliant strategy there from The Bastards, FOILED by Larry Tact!

TK is reaching under the bottom rope, grabbing Oz’s leg, and jarring him awake.

Oz jolts up from the mat and KICKS Larry right in the spine!

Larry hollers out and releases the arm bar. Bobby rolls out of the ring and falls to the floor. His arm looking seriously damaged!

Larry turns back seething and Oz… HE GRAPPLES HIM!

SNAP POWERBOMB!

Tact looks over at TK who's deliberately filing his nails now, with now file, his back turned to the action.

BAMA: TK Isn’t going to let his emotions get the better of him here. The less he watches, the less he’ll feel compelled to throw in the towel!

Tact, with Oz folded at his feet, turns back to his partner. Roger finally has Jake stirred and up to his feet.

Jake is coming to now, and frantic that… m-m-m-m-my-my-s-s-s

Your suit looks, fine!

Roger assures him!

Borden looks reenergized! He nods with confidence, and climbs back onto the apron - - - JUST IN TIME FOR TACT TO TAG HIM INTO THE MATCH!

BAMA: Now wait a second, should Borden even be allowed to compete now? That man surely has a concussion! Just listen to his stutter!

TODD: …he’s always had a stutter, and that’s ok.

BAMA: Pfft! What are you going to tell me next? That’s a time traveler? That’s actually Roger’s dad???

TODD: ….

Borden hits the ring and wastes little time going at Oz!

EAR CLAP!

FOREARM SMASH!

BODY- - -


FULL NELSON SLAM FROM TK!!!!!

TODD: Thunder Knuckles just broke the mold of manager, and made the save there for his team!

BAMA: And the ref can do nothing about it! BRILLIANT!

TODD: BUT LOOK!!!!

ROGER IS SKIDDING INTO THE RING!

And scolds TK in a 2 minute or so long diatribe about sportsmanship… or something.

TK rolls his eyes and exits the ring. Roger exits the ring. EAch man heading back to their corner.

TODD: Listen… I know that Oz has a history with Bobby and TK going back to the BOB days, but I can’t for the life of me understand why the tag champs decided to take on this project tonight! Bobby seems totally out of rhythm, and frankly, Larry Tact might’ve broken his arm!

BAMA: Are you kidding me, Todd? This is all a part of the plan! Bobby and TK are masters of tag team competition… they’ve been luring Borden and Tact in all night and-

Borden kipups!

..kinda…

He catches himself with his arm and pushes up with an assist from Tact.

t-t-t-thanks

Roger applauds from the outside

Borden’s eyes narrow on the reeling Oz…


f-f-f-f-FU-fu-FULL-f-f-FORCE!

Borden goes FULL FORCE!!!!

Shit…

TODD: -AND so much for the strategy, Bama! Borden, with the timley assist from Tact is going full force!

BAMA: TK looks absolutely bewildered here, baby! And Bobby Bourbon is still out cold!

TODD: AND NOW BORDEN IS- HES-HES

BAMA: Locking in the most awkward looking sharpshooter I’ve ever seen!!!

TODD: It’s his tenth move!

Borden turns Oz onto his belly, and TK slaps the mat in frustration….




….and throws in the towel!!!!

WINNERS: ‘Cavortin’ Jake Borden & Larry Tact!!!


TODD: And how about that, Bama! Against all odds!

BAMA: Yeah, yeah..

TODD: One half of the tag team champions, with the other half at ringside, just lost here tonight to one half of the former tag team champs, and Larry Tact!

BAMA: I might not have given Borden and Tact the credit they deserve but… I STILL WONT!

Larry, Roger and Jake all celebrate in the ring with some Tactilizing cavortin’! Roger kisses them both on the cheek and raises their arms!

[Image: wireline.png]

TODD: What an incredible main event ladies and gentlemen. Tact and Roger pulling out the most incredible of victories here tonight... truly unforgettable. But unfortunately, however, all good things must come to an end. And that not only includes our program here tonight, but for my main man Bama T., a career well-worked, and the beginning of a retirement well-earned.

BAMA: Stop it. You're going to get me all teary-eyed. It's been a pleasure the entire time. It really has.

TODD: It's been a pleasure to have you- wait, what now?

BAMA: What?

TODD: I'm being told through the headset that we're being interrupted AGAIN! But this time, we're going to be graced by the presence of our Universal Champion-

BAMA: TRASH TALK ROYALTY, BABY! LET'S GET IT! ONE FINAL TIME!!!

A custom version of “RIOT MAKER” by Tech N9ne begins to play throughout the arena speakers. The crowd instantly erupts with cheers knowing this was about to be good.

“This one right here's for the riot makers
The trash talkers, the monsters, the home-wreckers
We gon' start this shit off right
We got JAMES SHARK in the house tonight
We gon' start this shit off right (off right)
We got JAMES SHARK in the house tonight (come on)”

Shark storms out of the curtains. He doesn’t play to the crowd or take his time, instead he marches forward, eyes locked on the ring, his face covered with rage. The ring announcer does their best to be louder than the crowd and the music.

“I don't know why they be pumpin', it's somethin'
Maybe in the music when it be bumpin'
It's crunk and it's hella haterific (haterific)
Throw your set up in the air is all the DJs really wanna play
When the match is over, it's lookin' bloody and Satanistic (Satanistic)
Killas from everywhere don’t want to face me
I carry the show, some get nervous when I wreck arenas (wreck arenas)”

Ring Announcer: Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome to the stage, the XWF Universal Champion, JAAAAMES SHAAARK!!!

Shark rolls into the ring and motions for the microphone. The announcer is confused but Shark doesn’t wait, he rips the microphone out of their hand without a word.

Shark: Cut my music man, cut that shit right now.

“Wrestling promoters in Honolulu don't wanna see me
'Cause they said that Somoans will riot when they lose their ninas

The music suddenly cuts off. Shark begins to circle around the ring furiously. He has the microphone gripped firmly in his hands, eyes locked on every entrance in the crowd.

Shark: CHARLIE NICKLES…

The mention of the Nickleman’s name ignites the arena, fans rise to their feet, phones out, ready for a showdown between the two rivals.

Shark: HERE I AM YOU METH-HEAD PIECE OF SHIT. WHERE THE HELL YOU AT!???

Shark’s eyes continue to dart towards every exit, scanning the crowd and anticipating an ambush from Nickles. He then stomps on the mat and turns to the floor crew, signalling them to check under the ring - they comply but end up shaking their heads. There was no sign of Charlie anywhere.

Shark: You said I was running…….. BUT WE ALL SAW YOU RUN AWAY. Run away with MY Championship. Now here I am in the middle of this goddamn ring after you told me to come and get it back……

Shark stops pacing around the ring, his energy drops. He comes to the realization that Charlie isn’t going to come out. Charlie never had any intention of showing up to Anarchy. He told Shark where to go and Shark went without hesitation. Charlie was trying to show him that he wasn’t in control, that despite Shark being the Champion, Charlie was the one pulling the strings.

Shark scratches his head in frustration and lets out a deep sigh. He slowly puts the microphone to his mouth as he looks out towards the ramp.

Shark: Okay….Rebellion? Me and you? One last time?

Shark turns and looks directly into the camera.

Shark: Fine. I wanted you to beg for this match to happen but now you’re just going to end up beggin’ for it to end. You hear me you little cocksucker? You’ll be down on your hands and knees, mid-match, beggin’ for me to stop. The world has never seen a violent fuck like you quit or want out but I’m going to beat that side out of you.

Shark clears his throat and imitates Charlie, giving his best impersonation of him as he puts his hands out as if he is handing something over.

Shark: “Here it is Sharkboy. Here is your Universal Championship. Take it and spare me.”

His anger is hidden with a smirk.

Shark: I won’t have to kill you like you told me to at Warfare, Nickles. You’ve already tied the rope around your neck. Your actions is career suicide. Rebellion is the last time these people will see y-

Suddenly Shark is cut off with the lights turning off. The fans all gasp. The energy in the arena gets higher. Phones light up like stars in the dark….. And then the big screens flicker on…..

And it cuts to a shot of Charlie Nickles standing in the back!

The Nickleman’s grin stretches from ear to ear as he repositions the XWF Universal Championship atop his shoulder. He’s dressed in a full black suit with a patterned tie to match. Clearly, Charlie wanted to look nice for this occasion! The screen frames Charlie from the belly up, granting the audience a clear view of the stolen XWF Championship belt. The engraved nameplate reading ‘James Shark’ appears to have been scratched out, and then sharpied over! It now reads ‘Property of Charlie’.

“I hear you’re looking for The Nickleman, bitch!”

Charlie throws his head back with victorious mockery as he taunts James Shark from the big screen.

“Well you found him! Or rather….”

The camera on Charlie zooms out, revealing more information about his location backstage. It appears that Charlie is standing right outside the joint locker room of Summer Page and James Shark! As the camera zooms out even further, we see that Charlie is holding a barbed-wire baseball bat in his hands!

“He’s found her!”

The Nickleman bashes in the door to the locker room with his bat, creating a wide gap in the center of the wood. A shrill scream is heard from the other side of the door, presumably the voice of “Spoiled” Summer Page. Then, Charlie peeks his head inside the door’s gaping hole.

“HEEEEERE'S CHARLIE!”

The Nickleman kicks down the remnants of the door with one firm kick. The splintered wood flies off the hinges before The Nickleman turns back to face the camera. He gives a sly wink directly to the camera before stepping into the open locker room. The feed on the X-tron suddenly cuts to static, but not before we hear another scream, followed by the muffled sound of barbed-wire ripping through flesh.

Shark: YO?? WHAT THE FUCK, YOU SON OF A BITCH!

As the TV feed cuts back to the camera on Shark, we see the real XWF Universal Champion darting out of the ring and making a beeline up the ramp, towards the back. The cameras follow James Shark as he goes back through the gorilla position, frantically running back to his brand new couples locker room. Shark turns left and then turns right, before he’s finally in the hallway that houses his locker room. But this time, something’s different….

[Image: image0-1.jpg]

Posters of Charlie Nickles line both sides of the wall, covering them from ceiling to floor! James Shark is only taken aback momentarily by the knockoff Rebellion posters. In truth, there’s no distracting the fury in his eyes. Shark charges forward, past the posters, trying to find the shattered door to his locker room. As James moves through the hallway, you could swear that the eyes on the posters were following him…

When James finally finds his locker room, he sees Summer Page laying in the corner in a pool of her own blood. The flesh on her face and torso have clearly been ripped open by The Nickleman’s barbed-wire. James rushes towards the woman he’s been obsessing about, without care or concern for anything else in the world.

Shark: ….Summer? Holy fuck… Summer?? Can you hear me??

James Shark immediately drops to the floor, taking the wounded woman in his arms. James caresses her scarred flesh, trying to comfort her as the blood seeps out of the skin and pools around her limp body. Unbeknownst to the champion, The Nickleman is positioned in the corner of the frame, just out of sight to James: but the audience sees him clearly! Shark begins to call for help so that Summer can get treated for her wounds.

Shark: AY WE NEED SOME HELP OVER HERE.

That’s when The Nickleman raises his barbed-wire bat….

“EAT THIS!”

James Shark turns around, just in time to receive a faceful of barbed-wire! The champion drops from the force of the impact, falling right atop his bloodied lover. James and Summer lay flat in the corner of the room as The Nickleman loomed tall above them. Charlie’s lips curled into a dark grin as he placed the end of his bat’s barrel on the ground, crouching down beside it and the bodies. 

“Get some rest before Rebellion, will ya’ James? You look absolutely terrible right now!”

The Nickleman’s head rolls back with laughter as his hearty guffaw fills the room. He uses the baseball bat to push himself back up to a standing position, shaking his head in feigned disappointment the entire time. As Charlie turns to leave the room, the camera zooms in on the carnage The Nickleman wrought. Summer and James lay still in the corner of the room, covered in each other’s blood. Summer Page appears completely lifeless, her eyes rolled back in her skull…but in James’ eyes?

The embers of Rebellion still spark.

With that... this broadcast of XWF Anarchy fades to black.

[Image: wireline.png]

A Special Thanks To Our Match Writers:
Mark Flynn
Jimmy Stars

And Our Segment Writers:

James Shark
Justin York
Charlie Nickles
Peter Principle
Summer Page

And thank you to everyone who RPed!

Next stop?

REBELLION!
]]> <![CDATA[ANARCHY - 4/17/2025]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48788 Fri, 18 Apr 2025 09:38:54 -0700 Thaddeus Duke]]> https://xwf1999.com/showthread.php?tid=48788




04 - 17 - 2025






LIVE FROM OLIMPIC ARENA

BADALONA, SPAIN







REVOLUTION CHAMPIONSHIP
MATTHIAS SYN©
- vs -
JUSTIN YORK
- vs -
SOLOMON KLINE
TRIPLE THREAT




NON-TITLE

’ALLEGEDLY’ MICHEAL GRAVES
- vs -
LARRY TACT







SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX






MADISON DYSON
- vs -
MR. OZ








X-TREME CHAMPIONSHIP

MARISOL VILARO
- vs -
TOMMY WISH

X-TREME RULES: #VILAROFIT EDITION









TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP

”CAVORTIN” JAKE BORDEN & ROGER ©
- vs -
THEM NO GOOD BASTARDS
THUNDER KNUCKLES & BOBBY BOURBON

1 TEAM COLLAB 2K



OOC: ANARCHY RULES is 1 RP with a 1K WORD LIMIT unless stated otherwise
Hard deadline for Anarchy will be WEDNESDAY, 04-15-2025 at 11:59pm board time. Good luck!


TODD: Folks, this show tonight is so stacked, our opening match would be the main event on any other night!

BAMA: You ain’t lyin’, Toddrick! We just got out the garage and we’re already in sixth gear!



"Forgotten" by The Plot In You plays throughout the arena. The lights go out. Once the beat drops, a spotlight shines on the entryway, where SOLOMON KLINE appears inside the light, clad in a black hoodie over his ring gear and kneeling on his right knee.

TODD: Second-generated XWF star, Solomon Kline! He had a very impressive showing in the Ides of March tournament… if Aurora and Gorgo hadn’t drawn and he’d ended up in the only triple-threat, you have to wonder if he might have upset either of them one-on-one!

BAMA: Sol’s got a chip on his shoulder, trying to exceed his daddy’s impressive career! But, this young man’s got talent by the barrel!

TODD: No doubt, Bama! Kline ended up in this match because he laid down the gauntlet to the Revolution champion… He’s campaigning for XWF Rookie of the Year already… Can Solomon Kline secure his first championship gold in the XWF tonight?

As the lyrics come in, he stands, removes his hood and surveys the crowd as sparks rain down around him. He grooves his way toward the ring, and high fives fans along the way. He circles the ring and slides under the bottom rope. He continues rocking out to the song and at the 1:50 mark, he goes to the turnbuckle with a primal scream as the lyrics say "I have spent my life chasing things that have only brought me pain. In the end when I'm dead, hope it was for something!"

He returns to the ring and readies himself for the match.

…



One for the money rings throughout the arena as JY steps out from behind the curtain with a kings crown on. He stands center stage and takes in all of the boo’s before adjusting his crown with a smirk and heading down to the ring.

RING ANNOUNCER: INTROOODUUUUCINGGGG The One, The Only. He hails from TOOOROOONTOOO ONTARIOOOO CANADAAAAA, KING JUUUUUSTIIINNN YOOOOOORK!

TODD: Now, if you wanna talk impressive starts on Anarchy, Justin York returned to the XWF just a few short weeks ago and has been shooting for the Revolution champion like a rocket sled on rails!

BAMA: You ain’t kiddin’, Toddy! York got on the mic back in February and said some very derogatory things about Matthias Syn and his internal fortitude and his need to get his ass whooped! Ever since then, York’s been a man on a mission!

TODD: York upset his own company’s world champion Cyph3r in a #1 contender’s match for the Revolution! Then, York went on at Ides of March to beat former Revolution Champion, Mister Oz!

BAMA: The “King” has been on the warpath… And now he’s outside the gates of the Revolution kingdom! Will he claim what he thinks is rightfully is!

York enters the ring and stands on the middle ropes and holds his crown high in the air while giving a death stare into the crowd.

…



The opening riff of The hangman's body count by Volbeat starts to play throughout the arena as the lights dim. Several red and purple laser lights envelope the stage as Matthias Syn casually walks through the curtain. As he steps onto the stage, he stops and acknowledges the crowd by stretching both arms forward while touching his balled up fists together, the Revolution title sitting on his shoulder!

TODD: Matthias Syn! THE Revolution Champion! At the time I’m making this statement, Matthias Syn has been Revolution Champion for two-hundred-fifty-two CONSECUTIVE days!

BAMA: It’s been an impressive reign, Toddrick! Especially impressive when you know that the other three men that have held that belt only kept it for a combined one-hundred-thirty-seven days between them!

TODD: For over two-thirds of its existence as a championship, the Revolution title has belonged to Matthias Syn! And by holding it, Syn has become synonymous with Revolution!

BAMA: And that includes SIX title defenses! Against top Anarchy talents like Summer Page! Mister Oz!

…Also, Roger.

TODD: It’s been an incredible reign for Matthias Syn! And you know he’s doing everything in his power to make his reign last forever! But, tonight, he’s facing two men that have personally called for his head! Will the Matthias Syn Revolution roll on?

After several seconds he begins to nonchalantly walk down the ramp towards the ring, not allowing the fans to touch him.

On the way to the ring… the camera catches him nodding at a scruffy man dressed all in black…

The camera pans out… Actually, in the front row, on all four sides of the ring, men dressed all in black, totalling four…

…The four men, in unison, don Matthias Syn dual-personality masks…

TODD: Bama, who are these guys Syn’s signalling to?

BAMA: I ain’t got a clue, Toddy, I just work here!

…Syn, having communicated with his crew… slides under the bottom rope, jumps to his feet and poses on the ropes. As he drops down from the ropes he takes off his red leather shearling coat, hands it to the ring girl and sits on the middle turnbuckle…

…

The moment Syn’s music cuts, the official raises the Revolution title! And signals to the timekeeper!

DING DING!



REVOLUTION CHAMPIONSHIP
MATTHIAS SYN©
- vs -
JUSTIN YORK
- vs -
SOLOMON KLINE
TRIPLE THREAT


The moment the bell rings, Solomon Kline bursts out of the corner, with fury and fire!

TODD: And here we go!

Syn raises his dukes, ready to scrap when Kline charges straight toward… “King” Justin York!

BAMA: Whoa whoa! Both Kline *and* York called out Syn but now Kline’s attacking York!

TODD: It’s not a handicap match, Bama! Only one of these men is leaving with the Revolution Title and Kline’s smart enough to know Justin York is as big a threat to preventing his victory as is the reigning Revolution champion!

York’s caught off-guard, as Kline drove his shoulder into York’s ribs with a spear that nearly folded the veteran in half!

BAMA: Dang! What a first move!

TODD: No one can accuse the self-proclaimed Rookie of the Year of lacking boldness!

The air’s taken out of York’s lungs, as he’s collapsed into the corner, gasping for breath. The crowd barely had time to react before Kline shoves off the mat, swinging his arm with raw rage—aiming for Matthias Syn.

…Aiming a decapitating clothesline!

BAMA: Kline ain’ gettin’ paid by the hour! He’s looking to snag this win in record-time!

Kline swings…

And a MISS!

Syn, measured and controlled, was a step quicker than Kline’s blitzkrieg attack, springing out of his corner and ducking under Kline’s lariat!

Kline bursts forward, bouncing off the turnbuckle pad and charging back out… While Syn also rides his burst of speed to hit the ropes, rebounding off…

TODD: These two freight trains are barreling full-speed ahead at each other!

Kline’s looking for another clothesline…

But Syn leaps through the air!

LEG LARIAT across the chest of Solomon Kline!

BAMA: What-a-maneuver!

Kline’s head snaps back as his back slams onto the canvas!

Syn lands on his knees, snickering as he takes control of another title match…

When suddenly, he’s waistlocked from behind!


TODD: York strikes back!

BAMA: With three men in the ring, there’s not going to be any room for the champ to catch his breath!

Syn, out of defensive reflex, throws a wild elbow, aiming to decapitate the mastermind behind Pro Wrestling Valor!

…

But ‘King’ Justin York ducks under! Syn swings around, coming face-to-face with York!

…Who wraps him in a front facelock!

And snaps off a vertical suplex!

Syn’s body lands on the mat with a THUD!

BAMA: Daaaang, Toddrick! Syn’s no strawman, but York just tossed him like he was made out of hay!

TODD: No doubt about it, Bama! York is an absolute tank!

As the Revolution champ counts arena rafters from the mat, York sat up, grinning smugly, taking a moment to brush imaginary dust off his shoulder…

Not realizing Solomon Kline was charging in!

TODD: No time for showmanship! Here comes Kline!

Before York even knows what’s going on, Klines’s diving feetfirst across the ring…

RUNNING DROPKICK! Straight to the back of York’s skull!

York gets launched under the bottom rope, rolling to the outside, landing hard on his shoulder!

TODD: York’s been knocked from the ring! No interference! This is like a power play for Solomon Kline!

BAMA: Or Matthias Syn!

Kline didn’t wait a moment to take advantage of York’s absence. He pivoted on his knees toward Syn, who was pulling himself upright by the ropes… Kline grabbed the prone Syn by the wrist…

Then tugged him close for a…

CLOTHESLINE! Syn’s body does a full backflip, before landing flat on his back!

BAMA: Holy Hell! Someone take down that license plate, Syn just got ran over!

Kline beckons the official as he hooks the leg!

1!

2!

THR-No! Syn forces a shoulder up!

TODD: That clothesline looked *devastating* but it’ll take more than that to take the Revolution title from Matthias Syn!

…Kline shoves himself off the mat, ready to go right back to work on the champ… He grasps Syn by the scruff of the neck…

But Syn stiff-arms Kline away!

Kline tries to cut the gap between them and grapple Syn…

But Syn…

Acrobatically leaps onto Kline’s knee!

And clips Solomon with a kick to the skull! Step-up Enzuigiri!

TODD: Wow! Incredible improvised aerial maneuver by Matthias Syn!

…York shakes off the cobwebs, he pushes himself off the mat to roll back in the ring…

BAMA: Ah! Looks like York’s ready to clock back into work…

…When he sees Syn charging after Kline in the corner…

…York’s eyes narrow thoughtfully…

As he smiles… And ducks back down beneath the apron, eyeing the action surreptitiously!

TODD: What the… What’s York doing?

BAMA: He’s letting his opponents tucker themselves out! Both York and Syn are running this like a race, ol’ wiley York knows it’s a marathon!

Syn corners Kline, who’s looking dazed and confused after that kick!

Syn charges in…

But Kline surprises him, catching Syn in a grapple and rotating his footing! Now Syn’s in the corner!

TODD: Incredible counter by the rookie!

…But Syn, now his back to the corner, clinches onto Kline’s grapple…

And slams himself backwards onto the mat, driving Kline face-first into the middle turnbuckle! REVERSE STO!

BAMA: Oh SHIT! That looked ugly!

Kline’s face rebounds HARD and his body rolls like it just got tossed from a moving car!

Syn sneers confidently as he grabs Kline by the legs, drags him to the center of the ring, and rolls into a cover!

ONE!

TWO!

THRE-Justin York rolls under the bottom rope to elbow drop the back of Syn’s skull!

TODD: York enjoyed his break, *now* he’s ready to BREAK Syn!

Syn clutched his neck, rolling away in agony…

York eyes the champ…

And rolls back outside the ring!

TODD: Oh c’mon!

BAMA: Hey, there’s no prize for hitting the most moves OR getting hit by the most moves! Justin York knows the only guy going home with the belt is the one that scores the three-count at the end!

…Syn cradles his aching skull… He starts to rise at the same time as the woozy Solomon Kline!

Syn swings a right hand… But, Kline ducks under, getting Syn from behind and catching the champ around the waist…

German suplex!

Syn’s body crumples against the mat… But Kline doesn’t release the waistlock!

Instead, Kline forces Syn off the mat, up to his feet…

And launches Syn across! GERMAN SUPLEX!

TODD: Wow!

BAMA: This Kline boy’s a goddamn workhorse!

Syn’s back against collides with the mat… But Kline’s not done!

Outside the ring, York’s given up hiding under the apron… Instead lounging by the barricade, smirking as his opponents do his work for him…

When one of Syn’s lackeys leans over the barricade and mutters something in York’s ear.

…York’s demeanor darkens…

TODD: What did that odd man just say to Justin York?

BAMA: I’m sitting next to you, Toddy! How the Hell would I know?!?

Kline, through force of will and determined, drags Syn again off his feet, ready to complete the triple…

When York runs for the ring and slides under the ropes!

TODD: Well, we can’t be sure what Syn’s colleague said to York, but he looks none-too-pleased about it!

Kline’s vein bulge… Syn reaches for the ropes to stop a third German… but he’s out of reach!

York slides under the bottom rope…

Kline heaves…

York charges!

But Syn sees York coming and ducks…

As York delivers a HUGE BOOT! Taking Solomon Kline’s head almost off his shoulders!

TODD: Wow! What a strike!

Kline skids like roadkill on the highway until his crumpled body lands against the ropes!

He went for a third—but York returned, slipping behind Kline and snapping his arm forward into a short-arm clothesline that decked the second-generation powerhouse. Kline hit the mat hard, landing awkwardly on his shoulder.

BAMA: Kline got knocked into next Thursday from York’s strike aimed at Syn!

TODD: Don’t be sure! If York was aiming that strike specifically for Syn, why’s he still coming after Kline!

Indeed, York, instead of covering the opponent he just blasted, drags Kline off the mat… Deadlifts him into a military press position…

Before slamming him gut first onto York’s knee! GUTBUSTER!

Kline let out a strangled gasp as his abs folded over York’s knee!

York sneers down at Kline, barking insults at the Second-Generation XWFer!

TODD: …Folks, we don’t know what was said to Justin York, but it seemed to really turn him off Solomon Kline!

As York insults Kline, from behind, Syn rises out from the mat…

York reaches down, calling to finish this one…

He leans down to grapple Kline…

When Syn snaps up behind him and clasps him in a rolling wristlock!

Syn drags York to the mat…

And locks in the SYNTHEORY!

SYNTHEORY dead center of the ring!

TODD: Incredible! Syn somehow went from getting suplexed by Kline to taking full control of this match!

BAMA: 252 days and counting, Toddy! Matthias Syn could find a needle of victory in a haystack made of defeat!

Syn, on the precipice of victory, doesn’t bother savoring the feeling of control, immediately applying all the torque he can onto York’s arm!

York HOWLS in agony, the vein in his forehead bulging as pain SEARS through his arm!

BAMA: This could be it!

York’s arm shakes!

He’s got nowhere to go!

…

…..

But Kline charges in! Stomping Syn in the back of the head!

TODD: Oh my God! The match continues!

Kline collapses onto one knee, clearly having not fully shaken off York’s gutbuster…

…Syn cradles his pulsating skull as he scampers off the mat…

York’s arm dangles by his side as he lifts himself up…

TODD: All these men have been through Hell!

BAMA: But only one’s leaving with the belt, Toddy!

Just like at the match’s start, Kline charges first…

This time at the champ!

But Syn catches Kline by the face and shoves him backwards into the corner!

TODD: Disrespectful attack by Syn!

Suddenly, from the rear, Syn gets booted in the side by York…

BAMA: York’s pickin’ his moment and takin’ it!

York spins Syn around… Locking him in a front facelock, prepping for a Killzone…

But Kline springs out of the corner!

And leaps!

ASHES TO ASHES! Running Forearm smash to the face!

York gets bodied, flipping backwards on his shoulders into the corner!

TODD: This could be Kline’s moment!

Kline reaches for Syn… and powers him into the air, setting up for a Dust to Dust!

…But Syn slips out the back!

Catches Kline in a guillotine hold!

SYNTHESIS!

TODD: Matthias Syn hit it! Syn hit the SYNThesis!

BAMA: The Matthias Syn revolution rolls on!

Syn… exhaustedly but cockily… scrambles to get the cov-

WHAM! SPEAR!

Outta the corner like a freight train, York catches Syn with a devastating spear, embedding him into the corner!

Syn collapses onto his front, holding his gut!

BAMA: What I say, Toddrick! York picked his moment!

TODD: But will he be able to put Syn away?

…York drops..

And covers Kline!

BAMA: He doesn’t have to, Toddy!

TODD: The High Ring IQ of Justin York is on full display tonight!

ONE!

Syn, from the mat, crawls arm-over-arm outta the corner…

TWO!

Syn pounces, to break up the count!

He lands on the pin!

…

A MOMENT AFTER THE THREE COUNT!

WINNER AND NEW REVOLUTION CHAMPION: “KING” JUSTIN YORK!


TODD: WOW! He actually pulled it off! Justin York is your new Revolution champion!

BAMA: Don’t look now, Toddy, but I don’t think Syn’s pals are headed to the ring as a congratulatory committee!

Indeed, Syn’s four black-clad allies hop the barricade!

York holds up his belt, daring them to str-

FWOOOOOOOOSH

The lights cut out.

…

…..

They flip back on!

TODD: -e lose power? What just hap-

BAMA: Toddy, look!

In the ring, Kline and York are tangled in the ropes, wrapped and unconscious…

As Matthias Syn sits cross-legged in the center of the ring…

Flanked by his black-clad associates…

Covered in blood.

BAMA: What the fuck?!?

TODD: Folks, please standb-

STATIC

…



NON-TITLE

’ALLEGEDLY’ MICHEAL GRAVES
- vs -
LARRY TACT


The two men circle each other in the ring as the audience waits on the edge of their seats. Larry and Graves exchange snarls before locking up briefly, but both men push off from the grapple after just a few seconds. That's when Graves throws a sharp low kick, but Tact checks it and responds with a stiff forearm. Graves stumbles back before he returns fire with a snap jab. The pair tie up once more, each man jockeying for control. Tact powers Graves into the ropes, but breaks clean when the referee comes in between them to announce the rope break.


BAMA: Look at the power, look at the strength!

TODD: Who's power and who's strength are you talking about, Bama?

BAMA: BOFFUM'!

The pair reset after the rope break. Graves ducks under a lunge from Larry and lands another leg kick then another, and another. Tact swings wide but Graves slips it and goes behind for a German suplex attempt, but Tact counters with a back elbow and snapmares Graves to the mat. As soon as Graves steps to his feet, Larry follows up with a dropkick to the spine. Graves rolls away, clutching his back, but Tact stays on him. He starts delivering big boots to Graves' back before he lifts Graves into a gutwrench suplex. Graves writhes in pain, but Tact doesn’t let up for a moment. He continually pounds Graves with elbows and forearms before he drags Graves to his feet...only to bring him back down to the mat with another suplex!

TODD: Larry Tact came to Anarchy tonight to make a big statement, and so far, it's working! If he can pull out the win against the champion here tonight, then there's no telling how far he can rise in the ranks!

BAMA: You're damn right that this is a great opportunity for Larry here tonight, and he's making the most of it so far!

Graves rolls to the apron and pulls himself up using the ropes. Tact approaches Graves, but the champion kicks Tact in the stomach and forces him to keel over. Then, Graves grabs Tact in a front facelock before he drives Tact's head down to the mat with a vicious DDT! Both men are down, breathing hard. Micheal Graves gets to his feet first, but only a few seconds before Tact. As Graves sees Tact rising, Graves charges forward with a huge running knee that connects right on the temple of Larry Tact's forehead. Micheal Graves makes the sliding cover as the referee comes in to count the pinfall attempt.



1!



2!!



KICKOUT!!!




TODD: Larry Tact ain't going out like that, not yet!

BAMA: Larry Tact still has a lot to prove here tonight, Todd, so it's no surprise he kicked out!


Graves bickers with the referee for only a few moments before he glances down towards Larry. Graves snarls as he traps the arms of Tact, and then he starts raining down elbows from the topmount position. Tact tries to move his head to avoid the elbows as best he can, but it's no use: Graves has his arms trapped, leaving him defenseless! After a dozen or so elbows, Larry's forehead is busted wide open, and Micheal Graves starts grinning like a madman as the blood flies off Larry's forehead.


TODD: The champion just busted Larry wide open!

BAMA: Uh oh, this isn't looking so good for Larry anymore! He started this match off red-hot, but now, baby the Gravy Train is rolling!

Graves looks down at Tact with a sick smile on his face before heading over to the top rope. As the referee comes in to check on a bleeding and disoriented Tact, Graves is getting ready for a big move off the top rope. Micheal looks out at the crowd, then down towards Larry. The Anarchy Champion enacts some grand, performative gestures before he finally dives high into the air....

BUT TACT MOVES OUT OF THE WAY!

GRAVES CONNECTS WITH NOTHING BUT MAT, HEAD-FIRST!

TACT MAKES THE COVER!



1!




2!!




KICKOUT!!!


TODD: Larry almost had the champion! He almost had him right there!

BAMA: Graves has to be careful against Larry Tact! That showboating almost got him killed!

TODD: Both of these men have given it their all tonight, and both are damn near dead for it!

Larry and Graves both lay on the mat, exhausted and covered in Larry's blood. The referee looks down at both men, only to notice that neither one seems to be particularly responsive. The referee starts counting both men down, but Tact suddenly starts to stir around the 8 count. Then, instead of letting the count finish, Larry Tact instead takes matters into his own hands. Larry grabs Graves' by the neck, lifting him up to a standing position.

TODD: It looks like Larry might be setting Graves' up for something big right here!

As Larry tries to contort Graves' into position for a big move, the champion has a sudden burst of energy! Graves sweeps Tact's weakened legs out from under him, causing Larry to slip to the ground. Then, a groggy Graves grabs Larry by the scruff of his neck before putting him in position for a reverse DDT, but instead of bringing him to the mat, Graves brings Larry's head crashing down right into his knee! Graves' follows up the knee to the back of the head with a Cross Rhodes out of nowhere!

TACT IS OUT COLD!

GRAVES MAKES THE COVER!



1!


2!!


3!!!




Winner by Pinfall - "Allegedly" Micheal Graves






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 is truly Anarchy royalty! One of the highest ELO stars on the Anarchy brand! One of the most dominant competitors to grace Thursday nights!

BAMA: But, if she’s royalty, where’s her gold, Toddy baby?

TODD: Indeed, Bama! At Ides of March, she came the closest she’s maybe ever come in her XWF career to championship gold… Teaming with the bizarre, paranoid Richard Powers against Roger and Jake Borden… But she came up just short…

BAMA: Her fifth miss! She said in ‘er promo, Toddrick! She’s oh-fer-five!

TODD: Summer may not have a belt, but she’s a champion-at-heart. And the thing about champs… is their most dangerous when they have something to prove! Summer is ITCHING to prove she deserves another chance to compete with gold on the line! And tonight’s her chance to prove just that!

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.



As The Storm is Coming hits, a cackling laugh echoes over the PA system.

Suddenly, blue lights shimmer over the X-Tron! Smoke and rainfall stream down as LATOYA HIXX walks through the curtain, flexing her muscles.

TODD: Speaking of people with something to prove… Latoya Hixx! Truly one of the strongest competitors, not just among the XWF’s women competitors, but among the entire roster! But, that strength hasn’t translated into championship success! Summer’s unhappy with an 0-5 title match record? Latoya’s gone 0-for-7 in title matches across her XWF career!

BAMA: Now, how’s that possible, Toddy? After all, this is her only second match here on Anarchy!

TODD: We-... what?

BAMA: That’s what Hixx said in her promo, Toddrick! That she was about to make her second match here on Anarchy!

TODD: …Second match? Hixx made her Anarchy debut in March of last year, Bama! She’s wrestled a LOT more than two matches!

BAMA: What are you saying, Toddy? That Hixx doesn’t know how to count past two?

TODD: …Anyway…

Hixx walks straight down towards the aisle, slaps a few XWF fans, and then enters the ring!

The lights dim! Cameras flash as Hixx flexes her arms once more. She screams “LET’S GOOOOOOO!”

TODD: Well, this match doesn’t have a title on the line, but has major implications for both stars going forward! If Summer wants to prove she deserves another title shot, a big win over Hixx would go a long way to proving that! And Hixx, who’s lost her last two matches against Page… she’d have a major case for a Thursday Night title shot if she could finally put together the pieces to secure a win over Page!

BAMA: Pfff, two matches! Did she wrestle Page twice last Anarchy? Cuz this is only Latoya’s second Anarchy!

TODD: It’s not, Bama!

The competitors stand across from each other! Hixx stretches and smugly fires comments over at Page, who remains dialed-in, simply waiting for the bell to ring.

The official signals to the timekeeper.

DING DING


SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX


TODD: Alright, here we g-

The moment the bell rings, Summer explodes out of her corner, all rage and aggression!

She charges Hixx with reckless speed, throwing sharp forearms into her chest and jaw, each one landing with a loud thwack.

BAMA: Gah dang! School must be out cuz it’s SUMMER TIME!

TODD: Summer Page wasting NO time taking the fight straight to Latoya Hixx!

Latoya, clearly taken off-guard by the change in Page’s tact from evasive cruiserweight to vicious striker, stumbles backward surprised!

As Page charges forward to continue her offensive barrage, Hixx spins, throwing a wild backfist!

…

MISS!

Summer ducks under Hixx’s strike and plants her feet, scooping Latoya from behind in a waistlock… Before tearing off a…

SNAP GERMAN SUPLEX!

BAMA: Guttentag, Latoya!

TODD: Wow! Very impressive! Maybe Summer picked up anything from a veteran like Powers!

BAMA: If Summer knew best, she didn’t pick up anything that came within ten feet of Powers!

The crowd gasps as Latoya's massive frame crashes onto the mat! Hixx rolls ass-over-teakettle, launched from one end of the ring to the other.

Hixx’s legs dangle over her head, as her shoulders are pressed against the mat… but Summer scrambles up, refusing to give her opponent a moment to breathe!

BAMA: Wow! Latoya has been completely taken out of her game here!

TODD: Hixx is used to physically imposing her will on her opponents… But Summer’s come out here and dominated Hixx by taking the fight right to her!

Hixx groggily rolls up to a seated position… She tries to push off the m-

SUMMER PAGE HIGH KNEE! Connects like a heat-seeking missile sraight to Latoya Hixx’s jaw!

Hixx’s head snaps back VIOLENTLY! High Knee right to the jaw, snapping her head back violently so hard, she woozily gets spun… back onto her feet!

BAMA: Hot damn! Summer’s knocked Hixx off her feet… Then knocked her right back on him!

Hixx’s eyes blinks as she tries to figure out which way is up… As Summer starfish kip-ups onto her feet, snaps Hixx in a wristlock…

IRISH WHIP!

And on the rebound—

The most PERFECT Tilt-a-Whirl Russian Leg Sweep You’ve Ever Seen In Your Life!

TODD: WOW! That was the most perfect tilt-a-whirl Russian Leg Sweep I’ve Ever Seen in my Entire Life!

BAMA: *sniff* They should have sent a painter, a poet and a musical theatre director, because that move was ART!

Summer spins with her like a cyclone and slams Hixx’s spine directly into the canvas with brutal precision. Latoya arches her back in pain, clutching at it… her massive frame actually causing additional pressure on her vertebrae!

Summer pops to her feet and roars, chest heaving, sweat already shining on her forehead! The crowd roars with her!

TODD: This might be the best we’ve ever seen Summer Page!

BAMA: And the crowd loves it!

Latoya dizzily stutter-steps back into the corner…

Summer points before charging with everything she’s got…

Corner Splash!

…

But Latoya catches her in midair!

TODD: Oh no! Latoya played a little possum, as Page leapt right into her trap!

BAMA: Live by the ruthless aggression, die by the ruthless aggression, baby!

Latoya walks her opponent of the corner, before turning around, back to the corner…

Hixx cranks her neck, before delivering a…

Fallaway Slam! Summer’s spine unnaturally BUCKLES against the middle turnbuckle!

TODD: OUCH! That move looked horrendous on Page’s back!

Summer agonizes, as she rolls to her side, clutching at her spine.

…Latoya flexes her biceps to the crowd, soaking in the moment!

BAMA: So much charisma! So much showmanship! Can you believe this is only her second week on Anarchy!

TODD: No, I can’t! Because it’s not her second week!

Summer, still cradling her neck, crawls to one knee…

But Latoya’s already planning a follow-up attack! She peels Summer up to her feet, securing a front facelock…

And she lifts her like a flyweight…

Vertically…

…

Hixx releases one hand…

And performatively yawns, waving at her mouth…

TODD: …Okay, this is pretty impressive…

Finally, Hixx leans back!

DELAYED VERTICAL SUPLEX!

Summer crashes into the mat, the impact shaking the ring.

Hixx

One!

Tw-KICKOUT AT ONE!

TODD: Wow! Summer Page took some very physical moves… And didn’t even give Latoya a two-count!

Latoya snarls angrily… As Summer grits her teeth, pushing herself to her feet!

Latoya drags a thumb across her throat… before bouncing off the ropes!

Hixx drives her shoulder straight at Page!

SPEAR!

…

MISSES!

Summer leapfrogs over Hixx’s diving spear!

Hixx crashes facefirst into the middle turnbuckle!

TODD: Wow! Beautiful counter by Summer Page!


Hixx woozily spins around, away from the turnbuckle…

When Summer boots Hixx in the gut! And wraps her in a front facelock…

SNAP DDT! Page drives Latoya headfirst into the mat with such force that her body flips over onto her back!

Page crawls into the cov-...HIXX, working on instinct, shoves her opponent away toward the ropes.

TODD: Hixx digging deep to try and prevent Page from taking the match after that DDT…

Page regathers her footing as Hixx crawls to the ropes to pull herself up to her feet…

Page springs forward… Looking for a Total Knockout (Superkick)!

She swings…

…

BUT HIXX pulls her head out of the way!

As Summer’s foot sails past Hixx’s face…

Hixx clasps her hands together behind Page’s back…

BEAR HUG!

TODD: Oh no! Can Hixx manage to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat? She’s managed to lock Page in her signature Bear Hug!

BAMA: We’ve seen her do this before! Specifically, last Anarchy, at her first match, as this is her second Anarchy match…

TOD: Bama, seriously! Hixx’s been on Anarchy for over a year!

Hixx traps Summer’s arms, locking her in tight, squeezing with all the strength in her tank-like frame.

Summer’s eyes close, her demeanor focuses, her teeth grit…

And her spine contorts unnaturally as Hixx lifts her a few inches off the ground, before SQUEEEEEEEEZING her like a juicer!

…Page’s resolve starts to appear diminished… Each breath is harder than the last…

TODD: Can Hixx do it? Is the third time the charm for Hixx? Can she finally beat Summer Page!

BAMA: Third time? I think you mean to say, It looks like the upstart Hixx is about to win her second match on Anar-[/blue]

Suddenly, out of pure instinct and fury, Summer rears her head back…

THWACK!

HEADBUTT!

TODD: Holy COW! We’ve never seen Page do that before!

It’s a sickening, crunching sound… as  Latoya reels backward, dazed, her legs shaky.

Her grips loosens as Page drops to the mat, rolling backwards to the ropes… Page snaps her stance sideways…

Hixx’s eyes glaze over, and she stumbles like she’s had the wind—and everything else—knocked out of her.

She blinks once. Twice.

And then—

TOTAL KNOCKOUT!

A picture-perfect Superkick, straight to the jaw. Hixx’s head snaps to the side violently. She drops like a tree, completely limp on the mat.

Summer drops for the cover—

1!

2!

…

THREE!

WINNER: ‘SPOILED’ SUMMER PAGE


TODD: A dominant victory for Summer Page!

Summer Page rolls off her fallen opponent, sweat dripping from her brow, chest rising and falling with each breath. No posing, no celebrating—just satisfaction. She won with skill, with grit, and with rage.

TODD: Latoya very nearly stole the victory, which shows just how dangerous she is… But Summer Page looked as dominant as she has her entire Anarchy run! If we keep getting performances like that, the ceiling is limitless for Summer Page!





A choir stands on stage, in safe spots, as flame begins to erupt from the stage, as Oz walks out. It seems as if Oswald has literally paid for an entire metal orchestra, just to play him to the ring. As the first lick of the guitar hits the air and the drums start off, Oz starts to walk to the ring, dressed in a large white cloak covering his body. However, instead of entering the ring first, he waits. He stands there near the ring floor next to the edge of the ramp. He slowly pulls off the cloak, folds it and then places it on the edge of the ring, next to one of the posts before climbing onto the apron and over the top rope where he goes to his corner, sitting down as he waits for the bell.



Madison Dyson saunters out onto the ramp as a plume of gold smoke filters out.

Madison Dyson then heads down the aisle confidently, bitching out any plebes that dare to boo her. She's often clad in elaborate feathery robes. The X-Tron shows a barrage of images of Madison kicking the holy living shit out of that abject loser Sean Parker and others, intercut with her name logo and a queen's crown laden with barbed wire. Once at the ring, she takes her time getting in, walking ginergly up the steps and demanding the official hold the ropes open for her.

The referee calls for the bell to ring, and the match begins.

DING DING DING


MADISON DYSON
- vs -
MISTER OZ


Mr. Oz charges at Madison, but she quickly sidesteps and delivers a swift dropkick to his knee. Oz stumbles but quickly regains his balance, turning to face Madison. Madison takes advantage of his momentary stumble and lands a series of open-hand slaps, each one landing across Oz's face.

BAMA: OUCH! Dyson is really laying in those slaps!

TODD: The sound of them hitting his face is rather entertaining.

Oz is enraged and grabs Madison and lifts her into the air, slamming her down with a thunderous spinebuster.  Madison rolls out of the ring to recover, but Oz follows, grabbing her and tossing her back into the ring and then driving her to the canvas with a huge hip toss. Madison crashes to the mat, and Oz quickly follows up with a knee drop, driving his knee into her chest. Oz makes a cover and gets only a count of one.

BAMA: Dyson powers out at only one!!

TODD: All that’s going to do is anger the powerhouse!

Madison struggles to breathe but manages to kick Oz away. She gets to her feet and rushes at him, but Oz is ready. He delivers a powerful clothesline, sending Madison crashing to the mat.

TODD: Dyson has to find a way to overcome the brute strength of Oz or this things a wrap.

BAMA: You don’t say.

Madison reaches up and viciously gouges his eyes catching Oz off guard. He takes a few steps back clutching his eyes trying to regain his sight. Madison takes advantage and leaps to her feet, hooking his head and pulling him in for a sit-out jawbreaker which sends Oz crashing to the canvas.

BAMA: Ever the opportunist!

Oz struggles to get to a vertical base but Madison is relentless. She grabs him and executes a picture perfect swinging neckbreaker, driving the back of his head and neck into the mat. Madison hooks the leg and gets only a count of two as Oz powers her off of him sending her into the air on the kickout.

BAMA: Everytime I see him he gets stronger and stronger, I swear.

TODD: He’s an incredible physical specimen that’s for certain!

Oz and Madison get back to their feet at practically the same time and he manages to grab and lift her into the air and squeezes the life out of her with a bear hug. Madison struggles to breathe which only prompts Oz to squeeze even harder. Just as it looks like she’s going to fade she uses one last surge of energy to drive elbows into the top of his head which allows her to slip out and deliver a series of open-hand slaps once again ringing his bell.

TODD: Very resilient and cunning is Madison Dyson and she’s showing every bit of that right now!

BAMA: There’s those damn open hand slaps again!! WOOOO!

Oz, in a blind rage, charges at Madison once again, but she lays down on the canvas and rolls out of the ring. Oz follows and chases her around the ring. Madison slides back into the ring and he slides in a second behind her and she drops some heavy stomps into the back of his head. Oz seems to use this as fuel and stands back to his feet seemingly unfazed. Madison throws one heavy slap but Oz catches it and kicks her in the stomach and hoists her for a stalling vertical Suplex. Madison slips out the back door which prompts Oz to hit the ropes and drill her with a huge shoulder tackle that sends her crashing into the turnbuckles.

BAMA: HOLY SHII—

Madison is trying to regain her breath from that shoulder tackle by the powerhouse but Oz isn’t letting up. He grabs her by the hair and pulls her back to her feet and Irish whips her into the ropes and on the rebound drills her with a big boot. Madison hits the canvas hard and Oz goes for the cover, but Madison kicks out just in time.

TODD: That was the longest two count I’ve ever seen I think!

BAMA: Indeed it was, Indeed it was TODDY.

Madison once again finds herself desperate as she catches Oz off guard once more with an eye rake when he leans down to pull her up. She quickly follows up by leaping to her feet and striking with a standing dropkick which sends Oz stumbling back to the corner. She runs and drop kicks him in the knee which causes him to fall down to one knee. She strikes with a step up enzugiri that echoes throughout the arena. Madison makes the cover and at the very last second Oz once again powers her off of him.

BAMA: KICKOUT AT THE LAST SECOND!

TODD: This match could be over at any second.

Madison has a look of disbelief in her eyes as she attempts to lock in a knee bar but Oz quickly realizes the danger he’s in and pushes her off of with his other leg.

She quickly recovers and turns around while Oz is regaining his vertical base. Once he reaches his feet she hooks him for her Arm Trap Neckbreaker (Miss Feel Good) but he pushes her off into the ropes and on the rebound he tosses her up for the Pop up GTS (Sleep Now, Sweet Child O’ Mine) but she reverses in midair and drop kicks him in the side of the head. Oz goes crashing to the mat and Dyson lands awkwardly on the back of her head. Both competitors lay on the canvas in a heap.

The crowd is chanting “HOLY SHIT”

TODD – We are witnessing something special tonight, folks!

BAMA – I can’t feel my face and I’m not even in the match!

Both competitors stir as the crowd roars, their chants having converted to a “THIS IS AWESOME!”

Oz crawls toward the ropes, shaking the cobwebs loose, blood trickling from his lip. Madison clutches the back of her head but is already dragging herself up the ropes, eyes wild with desperation—and calculation.

Oz rises to his feet, staggering slightly. He sees Madison upright in the corner and charges, going for a final, annihilating Spear—

—but Madison drops to the mat at the last possible second, and Oz crashes shoulder-first into the steel ring post with sickening force!

TODD: GOOD GOD HE’S IMPALED HIMSELF!

BAMA: That shoulder’s separated for sure, Todd!

Oz slumps back from the corner in agony, and Madison, still clutching her neck, screams in frustration and determination. She hauls herself up onto the apron and climbs the turnbuckle behind Oz, the crowd rising with her.

Oz turns around just as Madison flies—Somersault Corkscrew Senton! She flattens Oz, the ring shuddering beneath them!

TODD: WHAT IN THE HELL WAS THAT!?

BAMA: She’s gonna kill herself and him doing stuff like that!

Madison doesn’t go for the cover. No. She wants to end him. She stares out at the crowd, eyes wide, a twisted smirk forming.

She grabs Oz by the hair and drags his nearly lifeless body toward the corner. She props his face up against the bottom turnbuckle—his jaw slumped over the middle buckle, arms hanging like dead weight.

TODD: No… NO… Don’t do it…

BAMA: She’s doing it.

Madison backs all the way across the ring. The crowd rises. Some cheer. Some scream. Some beg her not to.

Madison charges…

She leaps!

BOOM!

AMERICAN HISTORY YIKES!

A running dropkick straight to the back of Oz’s skull, driving his face violently into the exposed steel buckle!

KERACK!

The arena gasps.

Oz goes limp.

TODD: SOMEONE CALL THE EMTs!

Madison rolls him away from the corner, dazed herself, but knowing this is the moment. She doesn’t hook the leg—she sprawls across his chest like a conquering tyrant.

The official counts!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

WINNER: MADISON DYSON


BAMA: HOLY. SHIT. DYSON MIGHT HAVE KILLED HIM.

TODD: That was one of the most vicious, calculated, and brilliantly psychotic finishes I’ve ever seen!

BAMA: That wasn't a match. That was a statement! Madison Dyson just proved she will do anything to win![/blue]



TODD: Bama, when this match got booked, it was a simple one-on-one match between two top Anarchy talents… But, events that have transpired that have elevated this match to a championship bout AND a blood feud!

BAMA: Shooo, you ain’ kidding, Toddy! This one’s about to get nuttier than pecan praline puree!



It shows Tommy in the shadows in a corridor somewhere on the X-Tron in a hoodie, then it fades back into the arena where the lights flicker and the camera see's him coming down to the ring in his jacket hoodie, with him waving a Kendo Stick around him… As his X-Treme championship sits upon his shoulder.

TODD: Tommy Wish shocked the world when he pinned the Black Rainbow’s leader, The Eater of Dreams, Yelena Gorgo! A little over twenty-four hours after Black Rainbow delivered the beating heard around the world, injuring the King of the XWF… the XWF’s prodigal son, Tommy Wish found a way to snatch the X-Treme title from them!

BAMA: And shooo, he almost got his SOUL TAKEN for that, Toddy!

TODD: You aren’t kidding, Bama! Warfare Assistant GM Pip Collins scheduled Tommy Wish for an impromptu X-Treme title defense… And the THUGs wound up getting massacred by Gorgo! Worst of all, the match never started so Wish didn’t even get credit for the defense!

BAMA: Maybe the match didn’t start, but Wish still made it out with the X-Treme, Toddy! That makes him the winner in my book!

TODD: Understandable, Bama! He didn’t look like the winner as he high-tailed it through the arena… But! Wish did leave with the X-Treme title against Black Rainbow’s leader… The question remains: will he escape tonight facing another Black Rainbow member?

Tommy nods his head to the beat, and he gives some fans some dap as he walks down to the ramp, then he slides into the ring, and gets on the turnbuckle and poses to the crowd with the stick in the air. Then he comes down from there, and sits on the corner as his theme fades off.



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.

TODD: There she is! The Mastermind of #VilaroFit, Marisol Vilaro!

BAMA: Mari’s been dominant on Anarchy, but for the first time at Ides of March, we saw her at her full potential! She wrecked the King of the XWF, Kieran King, bay-bay!

TODD: The Black Rainbow is as mysterious as it is dangerous, Bama! We don’t know what brought Yelena Gorgo, Sarah Wolf, and Marisol Vilaro together… But we do know they made their presence known last Warfare… And Vilaro has the opportunity to take back the X-Treme title tonight in the name of the Black Rainbow!

BAMA: And #VilaroFit!

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.

TODD: …This entrance is still the longest of the XWF’s roster…

BAMA: You just try to find one second to cut, Toddy! It’s all GOLD!

'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…

In the front row, in Mari’s corner… is a group of eight people wearing Pink T-shirts with Black Circles! They hold signs declaring UNITY BY VILAROFIT! They seem to be led by tall, lithe blonde woman, The Advocate… wielding a black bottle made from some deviled void metal and riddled with purple veins.

TODD: Bama, who the Hell are those people?

BAMA: Not sure, Toddy! But they seem proud to represent the future of #VilaroFit and her latest innovation: UNITY!

TODD: …Anyway! Now, that they’re both in the ring, we’re about to get started! And leave it to Bashmaster to set up a match to suit these competitors!

BAMA: You ain’ foolin’, Toddy! The ring looks like a dang ol’ Planet Fitness!

Indeed, the ring is full of workout equipment! A benchpress in the neutral corner. Dumbbell racks next to the ropes. Two treadmills on opposite ends outside the ring!

Marisol is checking the equipment, making sure it’s properly calibrated to suit her workout…

TODD: Bashy may have picked this extra X-Treme stipulation to add a little flavor to this match, but one could argue he gave an advantage to Marisol! The gym is her temple! She knows every bit of equipment in that ring!

BAMA: Meanwhile, Tommy, 5’11” and 320 pounds… is looking at the treadmill like it’s from dang ol’ Star Trek!

Indeed, across from Mari, Tommy rotates the kendo stick around his arm… Eager to start swinging!

The official gets between the competitors, raising the X-Treme title… Before signalling to the timekeeper!

DING DING!





X-TREME CHAMPIONSHIP

MARISOL VILARO
- vs -
TOMMY WISH

X-TREME RULES: #VILAROFIT EDITION





Tommy charges toward Mari with the kendo stick…

But Mari dodge-rolls under Tommy’s strike! Tommy’s stick rebounds against the turnbuckle!

TODD: Doesn’t look like these two are going to be starting with any catch-as-catch-can style, huh, Bama?

BAMA: Hell to the no, Toddy! This one’s gonna be a war from start to finish!

Mari glides across the ring with catlike grace, dropping into a crouch by the side of the ring… next to the dumbbell rack!

Tommy spins around, looking to continue his kendo assau-

WHAM! Mari catches him as he spins, swinging a 10-pound dumbbell like a hammer into Wish’s ribs!

The steel thuds against his side, the crowd ooooohs…

TODD: Vicious first strike by Vilaro!




Tommy’s face contorts—eyes squeezed shut, as the wind leaves his lungs in a grunt. He doubles over, leaning on the kendo stick to remain upright…

…Mari smiles insidiously, setting the dumbbell back on the rack, as she reaches down, grabbing a handful of Tommy’s hair, pulling up to his feet… and dragging him to the side of the ring…

She quickly wraps him in a front-facelock… aaaaaaaand…

SNAP SUPLEX ONTOP OF THE DUMBBELL RACK! WEIGHTS SCATTER UNDER THE ROPES AS WISH’S SPINE BENDS UNNATURALLY ON STEEL! Tommy’s limbs sprawl in four separate directions, dropping the kendo stick!

TODD: Wow! This truly is Mari’s domain! She’s used every one of these tools to build the ultimate body… AND she knows how to use these tools like WEAPONS!

Out by the front-row, led by the Advocate, the UNITY by #VilaroFit fans start chanting!

Better Bodies!
Stronger Mind!
Marisol Guides!
Leave Doubt Behind!

TODD: …Creepy.

BAMA: What’s creepy about it, Toddy? They’re just showing their support for their girl, Mari!

Wish lets out a pained groan, flopping to his side, back arched as he tries to reach behind him, rubbing his aching back.

Mari tries to crawl into a cover…

But, the twelve-year XWF vet, Tommy Wish, rolls away! Slipping under the bottom rope!

TODD: Great wherewithal by Tommy Wish! He doesn’t ever get called a Ring General, but he’s been around long enough to have picked up a trick or two!

Tommy rolls to the outside, crawling to create distance between himself and Vilaro…

Unfortunately, he’s crawling slower than the active treadmill he’s found himself atop…

JC: This might be the first time an XWF match has taken place on an automated walkway!

BAMA: This might also be the first time Tommy Wish has been on a treadmill!

Wish beckons at Mari to bring it on…

Vilaro, instead… presses a button on the treadmill’s handles…

Suddenly, the tread direction flips! Wish loses his balance, stumbling onto one knee

And Vilaro pounces, taking her boot, and driving Wish’s face into the tread! A second time! A third time!

The Unity member starts another chant!

No Time For Wish!
He Can't Compete!
Marisol Reigns!
Embrace Your Defeat!

TODD: It’s like if the Children of the Corn did nursery rhymes…

Vilaro keeps stomping Tommy’s face into the tread…

WHAP! In desperation, Tommy throws an elbow back-and-upwards, catching Vilaro in the face!

TODD: First strike of the match for the reigning X-Treme champion!

Mari stutter-steps off the treadmill, toward the ringpost, cradling her face… Like she’s shocked this worm DARED to strike her perfectly symmetrical face…

Tommy, meanwhile, finally crawls off the treadmill… As he finds outside the ring… a set of barbells!

…Tommy grins, as an idea forms…

TODD: Something about the X-Treme title brings out competitor’s sadistic tendencies! The twisted gears are turning in Tommy’s mind![/blue

Marisol shoves herself away from the ringpost, done messing around! She turns the corner to pursue Tommy…

Just as Tommy finishes raising a barbell…

Before hucking it like a discus!

[blue]TODD: Incredible form by Wish! It’s got the distance!

BAMA: But will it hit its target?!?

The dumbbell flies through the air…

Sailing towards Vilaro’s shocked face!

…

……

MISS!

Vilaro, entirely running on the survival instinct to not get decapitated by a flying weight throwing herself to the mat, narrowly dodging the iron slab…

CLANG! The barbell plate SLAMS into the ring post!

TODD: Phew! If Mari had a moment less reaction time, she might have to invent a new fitness system that doesn’t require the use of a head!

Tommy rolls back in the ring… Vilaro, furious this fool almost killed her, is in hot pursuit!

Tommy crawls across the ring… Reaching for something…

But the quicker Vilaro quickly closes the gap, grabbing the X-Treme champ by the leg… And flipping him around…

Revealing Tommy’s got his Kendo Stick back!

TODD: Finally, it looks like Tommy’s got his weapon of choice!

Mari’s eyes widen! She tries to dive backw-

CRACK! A kendo stick shot straight to the face!

Vilaro covers her face, breaking into a run to get aw-

CRACK! CRACK! Wish catches Mari with two rapid kendo strikes across her back. Vilaro’s body seizes, as she collapses onto her knees!

…Wish rotates the Kendo Stick in place… Before lifting it high!

Aaaaaand

KERACK! The stick breaks on the finishing blow, straight over Mari’s head!

TODD: Wish wields that kendo stick like a samurai! Could he, for the third time in a row, keep the Black Rainbow from the X-Treme title?!?

…Vilaro, face covered in splinters from the broken kendo stick, collapses onto her back…

Wish breathes heavily, as he falls to one knee, crawling into a cover!

The official counts!

ONE!

TWO!

THRE-NO! Vilaro somehow does a perfect crunch, lifting her shoulders off the mat!

TODD: Wow! That’s Vilaro’s conditioning for you! She takes a licking and she keeps on ticking!

As Vilaro lies on her back, catching her breath, Tommy pushes himself off the mat… He glances around and spots a kettlebell.

Once more, a cruel grin spreads across his lips.

…Vilaro rubs her skull, still aching from that last kendo stick shot… Before opening her eyes…

And seeing Tommy standing over her, kettlebell over his head!

Vilaro gasps!

TODD: Oh my God! Tommy’s gone mental!!!

Tommy goes to sw-

In one swoop, from her prone position on the mat…

Mari’s boot lifts!

STRAIGHT INTO WISH’S CROTCH!

TODD: Right in the Wish family jewels! If this were a different match, that’d be an instant disqualification!

BAMA: But it’s X-Treme Rules, bay-bay! And X-Treme Rules is No Rules, anything goes!

Tommy’s jaw drops. His eyes cross. The kettlebell slips from his hands…

STRAIGHT DOWN ON HIS FOOT!

…Wish’s face seizes in agony, as he collapses onto his back, cradling his aching foot!

BAMA: I just got the weirdest deja vu for an ol’ episode of Tom and Jerry…

Marisol pulls herself up by the ropes… She winces in pain, but the adrenaline sharpens her focus.

…Tommy shoves the weight off his foot…

Just as Mari shoves herself off the ropes!

She does a textbook handspring! Corkscrews in midair!

And drives her elbow STRAIGHT into Tommy’s SKULL!

TODD: Beautiful technique by Marisol Vilaro!

Tommy gets knocked across the ring! His skull SLAMS head-first into the steel bench press in the ring’s corner…

TODD: Wish is on the bench! I’ve received word that the weighted barbell on the bench press is the heaviest thing in that ring!

BAMA: Don’t worry about Wish, Toddy! It looks like Mari’s doing the kind thing and acting as his spotter…

Indeed, Wish… lying back on the bench press… chest heaving… can’t move… As Vilaro stands over him… Lifting the weight off the bar…

Marisol Vilaro, holding a massive weight over Tommy’s throat, soaks in this moment.

The Unity by #VilaroFit fans start another chant, as the Advocate commands them!

Vilaro! Vilaro!
Strong And True!
Forget Your Wish!
She'll Finish You!

Mari grins, revelling in the worship of her flock…

But this gives Tommy a moment…

From the bench, he reaches up… And slams his fist into Vilaro’s right abdomen!

Vilaro winces, tilting to one side…

As she loses her grip on the bar, it clatters to the mat, catching her in the leg!

BAMA: Live by the bench, die by the bench!

TODD: But, can Tommy take adv-

BAMA: Wait, wait, I have another! Looks like Vilaro skipped Leg Day!

Vilaro screams, falling to her side, clutching her leg as the metal rolls away. Her face twists in anguish—then fury.

Tommy pulls himself upright against the bench, frenzied. He grabs Vilaro’s skull, pulls it between his legs…

PILEDRIVER ONTO THE BENCH!

The bench snaps in half under their combined weight!

TODD: Holy SHIT!

The crowd… minus the Unity by #VilaroFit cult… echo Todd’s sentiment

HOLY SHIT
HOLY SHIT
HOLY SHIT

Vilaro is laying in a crumpled heap under the crushed bench…

Tommy beside her… stirs first…

He crawls arm-over-arm…

TODD: Unbelievable! Can Tommy pull this off?!?

Tommy… craaaaawls…

And lays an arm over Mari!

The official counts!

ONE!

TWO!

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

At the last possible moment, Marisol Vilaro kicks out!

TODD: Oh my GOD! How deep did Vilaro have to reach to kick out of that one!

…Mari and Wish both lie in the center of the ring…

…When the Advocate begins pointing and directing traffic!

Suddenly, the Unity by #VilaroFit eightsome all hop over the barricade!

TODD: Oh my! It looks like Vilaro’s fans are taking it upon themselves to help Mari out!

BAMA: I don’t think Tommy’s pals, The THUGs, will tolerate that, Toddy!

Indeed, as the #VilaroFit fanatics swarm the outside of the ring like lumberjacks…

From the back, John Black and Reggie Estrada storm down the ramp… JB has a baseball bat, Reggie’s got a steel chair!

The Unity by #VilaroFit crew stand to block the THUGs from coming down the ramp…

Back in the ring, Tommy starts to stir first, as Mari cradles her aching skul..

Tommy beckons Mari to stand, setting up for a HideYaFace…

…But, The Advocate, the blonde that led the Unity by #VilaroFit crew all night, has leapt onto the apron, with her black bottle!

BAMA: Watch out, Tommy! It’s probably some sorta protein shake!

The Advocate sips from the bottle…

Just as Tommy clasps Mari’s hair dragging her to her feet…

Tommy clinches Mari’s neck! HIDEYAF-

NO!

When Tommy turns to stun Mari, Mari shoves Tommy…

Toward the Advocate on the apron!

When Tommy gets close…

With a distinct, almost sickening 'thwip' sound of pressurized liquid, The Advocate forcefully ejects a stream of thick, dark, tar-like venom from her lips!

TODD: What the HELL is that?!?

BAMA: …Is that what was in that bottle?!?

The viscous, blackish glob arcs with surprising accuracy, striking Wish straight in the eyes.

Wish first cries out in shock and agony…

…When suddenly, his legs seem to jellify…

Wish rapidly blinks, lost and confused…

Outside the ring, the THUGs battle through the pack of frenzied Vilaro fans to rescue him…

They’ve taken out a couple…

But the remaining are upon them, kicking, biting and punching the THUGs like feral animals!

TODD: Things have gone from bad to worse for Wish…

Wish frantically pawing at his face… as if its presence is somehow wrong…

Suddenly Vilaro spins him around!

VILAROIZE FISHERMAN SUPLEX!

Vilaro hooks Wish’s leg!

The Advocate barks at the official to count!

1!

2!

THREE!

WINNER AND NEW X-TREME CHAMPION: MARISOL VILARO!


TODD: Holy cow! What a fight! What a war! There were moments… There were big, undeniable moments! Where it looked like Tommy Wish was going to shock the world for the third time and find a way to get the better of Black Rainbow!

BAMA: But Marisol Vilaro was just too good, Toddrick! She had the tools! She had the talent!

TODD: And she had an army of dedicated cultists at her beck and call… And this mysterious advocate, who spat… SOMETHING into Tommy’s eyes!

BAMA: That too!



The scene resumes and the entrance ramp is now draped in a shimmering gold carpet. There is a Spanish flamenco band playing music on stage next to the ramp. The ring is filled with beautiful women dressed in burlesque, fanning themselves with orante abanicos. The fans look like they are having the time of their lives, dancing along to the music and clapping. The spanish band begins to slowly stop playing… and then…

BOOM!!!!!

A custom version of “RIOT MAKER” by Tech N9ne begins to play throughout the arena speakers. The crowd gets louder as James Shark’s cocky grin can be seen across every screen in the building as he makes his way to the ring from the backstage area.

“This one right here's for the riot makers
The trash talkers, the monsters, the home-wreckers
We gon' start this shit off right
We got JAMES SHARK in the house tonight
We gon' start this shit off right (off right)
We got JAMES SHARK in the house tonight (come on)”

Shark is wearing a Sergio Ramos Spain soccer jersey along with layered diamond chains hanging around his neck. The XWF Universal Championship lazily slung over one shoulder. Two U.S Marshals could be seen walking behind him. Then just as the music kicks in, he makes his way out of the curtains and immediately red and gold pyro shoot off at the same time, reflecting the colors of Spain.

“I don't know why they be pumpin', it's somethin'
Maybe in the music when it be bumpin'
It's crunk and it's hella haterific (haterific)
Throw your set up in the air is all the DJs really wanna play
When the match is over, it's lookin' bloody and Satanistic (Satanistic)
Killas from everywhere don’t want to face me
I carry the show, some get nervous when I wreck arenas (wreck arenas)”

The center stage is filled with smoke. The flashing light from his ankle monitor is the only thing that can be clearly seen through the smoke however as the smoke starts to clear, Shark’s figure could be seen as he is lifting up the XWF Universal Championship in the air. The camera starts to zoom onto his nameplate on the title then slowly pans out as his smirk has only grown larger. He places the Championship back onto his shoulder as he begins to confidently walk down the golden ramp. The U.S Marshals stay behind but watch from a distance.

“Wrestling promoters in Honolulu don't wanna see me
'Cause they said that Somoans will riot when they lose their ninas
'Cause I'm a riot maker, that's if you don't know
I'm a riot maker, they know it’s my show
I'm a riot maker, and I come out bustin'
I'm a riot maker, riot maker, I don't give a damn about nothin'
Hop in my ring, f'sho
You push, you shove, you get elbowed”

Shark enters the ring and bites down on his lower lip, checking out the beautiful women in the ring. Thousands of gold and crimson balloons fall from the ceiling. The women dance for him, fan him, touch him, everything going on right now was so extravagant, chaotic… so James Shark.

He gets to the center of the ring and holds the Championship up in the air once more, the women now surrounding him as they put their hands all over his body.

“Back on, 'cause this for Fat Tone and Mac Dre
All of the soldiers who got gone on that day
All my people sittin' in prison, this is for you
So won't you listen to the shit that I'm spittin'?
Fuck the law and the government they'll hymn your ass up
They'll do everything in their power to get a fast buck
No right or wrongs, just killer bees out for your honeycomb
But you'll find out, when you bind out
You can be free if your money long
Ever been to one of my shows? Yeah, it might be crazy”

Shark can be seen mouthing the words out to the lyrics before his song starts to fade out. One of the women have a microphone and hand it to him. He takes it and shouts into it, continuing to hype up the crowd.

“BAAADAAAALONNAAAA SPAINNNNN, goddamn. Y’all are amazing. Aside from Brooklyn, I couldn’t think of a better crowd to invite to MY CELEBRATION.”

Shark nods his head smiling, walking around the ring like he owns it. The women in the ring continue fanning and touching him whenever he is close enough.

“Not too long ago, Ada-BLEH-mi came out to the ring and held onto this very same Championship. A hundred names came out of his mouth but not one of them was mine. At first I was like damn, No matter how much success I achieve, no matter how many belts I collect…. I’m still overlooked. Throughout my whole career it’s always been that way. But then I thought… no these motherfuckers aren’t overlooking me. They’re looking RIGHT at me. They know the threat that’s before them, they just hope it’ll pass them by. That’s what it is. I don’t like to use the word ‘fear’ in this business because we put our lives on the line everyday. It’s hard to believe one of us wrestlers would actually fear each other but Spain…my colleagues fear me. They all do. They fear me because losing to a guy like me sucks. My bald ass head will kick them while they down. I talk way too much shit.”

“Nice little group win on Warfare Isaiah but I heard the tag Champions might be out of action for a while due to all the back pain they have after carrying you to victory. A participation trophy is what that was for you. Realize that your kingdom will always be right here underneath the bottom of my fuckin’ shoe.”

Shark smirks and looks off to the crowd and winks. 

“See what I mean? But look. There’s one person that sees the threat and not only stands right there waiting for it to hit em but invites it with open arms. One person that just mentions my name religiously, y’all know who that is?”

Shark looks out into the crowd. Some fans can be heard yelling out Charlie Nickles. It’s obvious Shark is about to respond to his recent call-out from Warfare. Shark points at one of them and nods.

“Yea, the Nickleman himself, Charlie Nickles.”

Shark then turns away and looks right into the camera as if he is looking at Charlie.

“I’m glad you found your suit again, last time I saw you wearing it you held a press conference against me and ended up with a stomach full of every word I made you eat.”

“Did I mention how much I hate you, Charlie? Fucking christ. I hate this man, y’all. Like I respect the violence he brings to the table and the five star wars his matches become but MAAAAAN, he really, really annoys the hell out me.”

“Let’s get ONE thing clear here. I don’t EVER go looking for Charlie Nickles but Charlie Nickles ALWAYS goes lookin’ for me. But he doesn’t have to look far does he? All he has to do is look up because that’s where I am every single time. All he wants to ever do is latch onto my success, the success he claims he gave me.”

Shark scratches his head in frustration before shaking it.

“Ahhhh man… Listen to me very carefully you stupid moron, the ONLY thing you’ve GIVEN me is a never ending headache every time you come out here and say my name.”

“So what????? You have ONE MORE in you? You want ME to face you? James Shark vs Charlie Nickles 3????”

The fans erupt in cheers, the camera pans around the entire arena as the fans look very excited. That excitement quickly gets cut down however as Shark shuts it down immediately.

“The answer is NO. Go fuck yourself.”

The fans begin to boo loudly but Shark quickly turns that around as well.

“Nah, nah, nah, HEAR ME OUT. There’s only ONE person in this company that I lost to so far that I ain’t beaten and that’s Adam Garcia.”

And just like that, Shark has the fans cheering loudly again as he mentions their countryman. Shark nods his head and waves his finger.

“That’s right. I’m gonna get that one back one day. Might even have the rematch in Spain. Even without that match I can think of many other people more deserving of the next shot.

"My future baby momma AURORA put that man in the dirt already. She's got a Championship I lost that I'd love to get back."

"Me and Mayonnaise Dyson been yappin' at one another since I stepped foot in this company. Maybe I finally strangle her with the Universal Championship on the line then find a tag partner and steal her Tag title."

"What about Kieran King? I already killed two kings already might as well go for the one that's actually deserved to call himself that."

"Do y'all see this??? Y’all gotta understand I ain’t here for a long time. I been down this road already. The mission should have stopped at Seb but then he didn’t have the strap so we made our way to Isaiah’s bitch ass. Somehow we still goin so we only takin’ the best matches possible from here on out. We only takin’ matches where I got something to gain.”

“Charlie Nickles, all you want to do is fucking take, but what do you have to give me? The chance to retire? You could wrestle your last match against one of the strippers behind me for all I care. What do I have to GAIN?”

“When I faced you the first time you had the Xtreme Championship. When I faced you the second time you were looking impressive and on the rise again. Now what? Now all you have is a stupid bullet you bought from pintrest with our names engraved onto it. Really? Ah… hell nah.”

Shark starts to raise his voice, pointing at the camera.

“Take that bullet and swallow it, swallow it along with my name in your mouth and any other ideas you got relating to me. I don’t give a damn about no beef or no trilogy with you. We’ll chalk it up at one-one, but make no mistake here, the record books will say we are even but everybody including yourself knows what it is… we are NOT equals. The last dub you got was nothing more than me being overconfident - overconfident because I disregarded you and focused on Jolee, overconfident because I walked into a company that you terrorized for four years and slapped the dog shit outta you in my second match under your rules and stipulations.”

“Now It’s MY rules - MY stipulations. I call the shots. This Universal Championship means I’m the pinnacle. Warfare, Anarchy, XWF as a whole and all our motherfuckin’ affiliates revolve around JAMES SHARK. So listen closely…. That one match you think you got left? Better make it count. Wow me. Impress the Champion. Call me out afterwards on your hands and knees. Beg me.”

“You crashed and burned at Ides of March while I shot to the very top of this company. James Shark ain’t your lifeline nor your ticket to the big show. Not no more.”

“You want this?”

Shark slaps the centerpiece of the Universal Championship repeatedly.

“You’re a big boy, you can climb back up.”

He tosses the microphone onto the canvas. Flamenco music kicks in again from the Spanish band. The women begin to spin, twirl and dance. Shark smirks and takes a few steps back, disappearing into the group of women as the party continues in the ring and the scene fades to black.



TODD: Welcome back friends! You’re joining us just in time for the main event of the evening, and what a classic this should be!

BAMA: A rematch of the Bashmaster Classic semi-finals, baby! A matchup so nice they had to book it twice!

TODD: Indeed, tonight we see the first ever Anarchy Tag Team Champions, one of the most prolific teams in recent memory, Roger and ‘Cavort’ Jake Borden, defending their gold against The LEgendary No Good Bastards!

And now we commence one of the strangest entrance segments ever. Jake Borden is already in the ring, wearing one half of the tag team titles around his waist. He waves to the crowd and begins stretching as..




The entirely epic XTron video of TNGB takes over the arena as the lights dim. A spotlight highlights the ramp, and Thunder Knuckles walks out onto the entrance ramp, hyped and ready to fight, pointing out into the crowd. Behind him, Bobby Bourbon deliberately walks out and stops, also pointing out into the crowd. Both men glance at each other and return their attention to the ring, delivering a no-look fistbump, then in unison point into the ring. The crowd sings along with the song.

*ASSHOLE, DIRTBAG, NO GOOD BASTARDS!*stomp stomp*

TK slides into the ring and gets up onto a knee, beckoning the crowd as Bobby climbs the steps and enters the ring behind him. TK stands and appeals to the crowd as Bobby raises his arms at 45-degree angles.

Jake gulps, but then smiles as




Roger is a brave and heroic now. No longer getting spooked when the sparkly sparklers go off behind him while I have a walk to the ring. Holding the other half of the tag team championships in the air. He switches arms when one arm gets tired. He steps through the ropes and greets Borden with a kiss on the cheek as the two raise their belts in stereo now.






TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP

”CAVORTIN” JAKE BORDEN & ROGER ©
- vs -
THEM NO GOOD BASTARDS
THUNDER KNUCKLES & BOBBY BOURBON


TODD: The bell rings, and we’re underway!

TK and Borden start off first, they circle each other slowly before TK tempts Borden with a handlock. He’s got his hand out, wiggling his fingers and gesturing to Borden with his head to take him on in a test of strength.

Borden looks incredulous, and turns back to Roger who gives him the go-ahead.

Borden reaches up and locks hands with TK - - -WHO DISHONORS THE AGREEMENT IMMEDIATELY.

A STIFF KNEE TO BORDEN’S MID-SECTION!

Broden doubles over and TK drops im with a quick DDT, drawing loud boos from the crowd

TODD: Well, a bastardly deed right away from Ol’ Thunder Knuckles!

BAMA: Teekay baby aint taking no chances with Jakey tonight! He remembers full well the last time these two teams squared up. He knows Bordens got that heart of gold, and that never say die mentality.

TK gives Borden no time to contemplate a recovery. He locks in a quick, and precise sharpshooter, applying devastating pressure to Borden’s back.

Borden cries out from the middle of the ring, and reaches for the ropes that are a mile away. But TK has the hold locked in good. Borden tries to muster all of his strength, crawling on his forearms, but TK just walks him back to the center of the ring and reapplies the move. Again Borden has to use all of his power to get up on his arms and begin crawling, and AGAIN, TK just pulls him back and reapplies the maneuver. BUT THIRD TIMES THE CHARM! This time, after Broden crawls, and TK pulls him back, Borden gets the chance to flips his weight. He rolls TK over face first, and struggling now he - - - HAS TK LOCKED IN A SHARP SHOOTER OF HIS OWN!!!

TODD: What a counter by Jake Borden! I didn’t know he had that in him!!!

BAMA: I don’t think HE knew it baby!

TODD: Crafty break there from the 70’s wrestling time-traveler, but it’s clear all that time spent in TKs sharpshooter has taken a toll

JAke winces trying to lock TK’s legs in properly, but has to grab for his lower back as he wrenches TK, and breaks the move falling down a bit.

TK struggles for a moment, but gets to his feet pretty quickly. TK hits the ropes, and goes for a shoulder block!

BUT BORDEN FALLS FLAT TO DODGE!

TK leaps over Borden’s intentional dive, and hits the next set of ropes, but Borden is waiting with a standing dropkick!

TK hits the mat and pops back up, only to catch a forearm smash from Borden. Jake’s eyes are wide as TK staggers back - - - AND DIVES ON HIM WITH A LOU THEZ PRESS!!!

The crowd in Spain is going wild, as Borden takes his chance to tag in Roger! But he also gave TK the time to crawl over to Bobby Bourbon!

And now the two fresh wrestlers hit the ring. Roger is shifting up and back, bobbing and weaving ready to dodge anything!


- - - - -EXCEPT FOR BOBBY’S HUGE CLOTHESLINE!!!

Roger flips in the air and hits the mat, and has no time to breath - - -AS BOBBY SMASHES HIM WITH A SENTON SPLASH!

Bobby picks Roger up and promptly throws him into the ropes! Roger rebounds and is colliding with a - - - BIG BOOT FROM BOBBY - - -


- - - -BUT ROGER STOPS IT?!?!?! - - -

He counters the big boot by letting the back of Bobby’s leg land on shoulder and then pushes the big man down to the mat, still holding his leg and- - - LOCKS HIM INTO A SHARPSHOOTER?!

TODD: Ok, what in the hell is going on here???

BAMA: WE’ve got us some sharp shooters in this match, hotty toddy!

Roger sits down on Bobby’s lower back - - - for all of two seconds before he’s kicked off from the submission hold. Bobby rises to his feet, scowling. He grapples at Roger, who ducks, and shifts diagonally before landing a wild looking kick that connects flush with Bobby’s temple.

Bobby is swaying, out on his feet. Roger grabs his arm, and waves to the crowd. He puts his boot under Bobby’s chin, holding onto the arm he intentionally falls, pulling Bobby into a - - - COUNTER!!!


BOBBY PUSHES ROGER DOWN ON HIS BACK, AND HAS A HOLD OF IS LEG NOW AND - - -


TODD: ….


- - - SHARPSHOOTER!!!

Bobby easily turns Roger over, and as a seat on his back. He wrenches back. Rogers tiny legs struggling to stay wrapped around Bobby’s thighs. It doesn’t matter anyway, Roger is right near the ropes and with a bit a effort, and through a murderous scream he reaches out and grabs the ropes forcing a break drawing an applause from Borden.

Bobby takes the full count from the ref before breaking the hold. He stands defiantly and picks Roger up by the back of his pants. He throws Roger into the ropes again and hits a huge pop-up spinebuster!

Bobby hooks the leg!


1!



2!!



KICKOUT!!!


Roger shows tremendous girt, and fights Bobby with some fists even as Bourbon pulls him up from the mat. Bobby eats the punches and lifts Roger up into a torture rack soman drop!


He immediately pins Roger again!!!!



1!



2!!




KICK OUT AGAIN !!!

Bobby looks flustered, only for a moment though. Again his picks Roger up and - - -


SHORYUKEN!!!


The roundhouse uppercut sends Roger lifted into the air, - - - CATCHES HIM ON THE WAY DOWN WITH A FALLING SPINEBUSTER!


BOBBY COVERS!

TODD: THIS IS IT! NEW CHAMPS

1!


TODD: NEW CHAMPS!!


2!!



TODD: NEW- – - - !!


Borden dives into Bobby from the top rope!!! BREAKING THE FALL!!!


But TK has already hit the ring. Before any jubilation can settle in, TK partially has Borden in a position as if his own shirt were wrapped over his head, pummeling him with clubbing blows in the back of the neck and spine.

TK hits Roger with a full nelson slam, and the tag champ rolls out of the ring. TK insists on Bobby to rally. He steps through the ropes as Bobby grabs the unconscious Roger up and walks him over to their corner. She shoves Roger into the pads and makes the tag.

He tags TK and then hits a backbreaker on Roger holding him over his knee while - - - TK hits a diving knee from the top rope to Roger’s skull!


TK COVERS!



1!




2!!


BORDEN IS ONLY NOW GETTING TO HIS FEET



KICKOUT AGAIN!!!


TODD: Roger is one of the most resilient wrestlers I’ve ever seen, Bama!

BAMA: I can’t tell if he’s resilient or just too stupid to stay down!

TODD: Don’t be ridiculous! This man is our Anarchy Tag Team Champ for a reason! The heart of Roger and Borden cannot and will not be denied, but will it be enough to put away The Bastards tonight?

TK is in shock. He picks Roger up and grapples - - - BUT IS ROLLED UP!



SCHOOLBOY OUTTA NOWHERE FROM ROGER!!!!



1!


2!!







BARELY A KICKOUT!!!


TODD: WHOA!!!!! ROGER NEARLY WON THE MATCH RIGHT THERE!

TK is back to his feet, and pissed. He stomps over at Roger who is -  -  - accidentally drop-toe holding TK. Roger stands up and skids over to his corner where he tags Borden!

Borden hits the ring and immediately raises his dukes. Only to kick TK in the shin just as he approaches.

TODD: Borden’s back in the ring, and you can see the fire in his eyes! A kick to the shin, and he’s already up for more!

BAMA T: Borden’s showing some serious grit here, baby! And he knows how to get under TK’s skin!

TODD: I can feel the tension here, Bama! This match is on fire! Borden charges at TK - - -AND GETS MET WITH A HUGE SHOULDER TACKLE FROM TK!

TK picks Borden back up and throws him into the ropes with power, but Borden rebounds with a leaping forearm smash, sending TK staggering!

Borden hits the ropes again, and as TK tries to swing at him, Borden ducks, running straight into an axehandle smash to TK’s head!

BAMA: Borden’s showing off that tenacity! But I gotta give it to TK, he’s not going down easy, even after all that!

Borden rushes at TK- - - BUT TK DROPS HIMS WITH A HUGE POWERSLAM!

The impact shakes the ring, and TK stands tall, yelling at the crowd, calling for the end.

TODD: What power from TK! He just slammed Jake Borden like a ragdoll!

BAMA: And it’s not over yet! Here comes the finish. Watch this, Todd. TK’s pulling him upbut wait! Roger’s back on the apron, slapping the turnbuckle, trying to rally Jake!

BUT ITS TOO LATE!!!


TK hooks Borden for a - - - THUNDER STRIKE DDT!!!!  - - - bBUT BORDEN’S LEG SLIPS FREE!

[blue]TODD: Incredible escape by Jake Borden! He’s got eyes in the back of his head!

Borden rolls to his feet and charges again, catching TK off-guard with a spinning wheel kick!

He goes for a quick cover!


1!


2!!


KICKOUT WITH AUTHORITY!

TODD: Borden nearly had him! What a close call!

BAMA T: The pressure’s on, baby! But Teekay ain’t staying down that easily!

Borden pulls TK up, but before he can do anything, Bobby Bourbon enters the ring, charging and slamming a shoulder into Borden’s midsection!

He immediately starts delivering heavy shots to Jake’s back, each one more brutal than the last.

Borden tries to fight back with an elbow to Bobby’s face, but Bobby clubs him with a brutal forearm! Bourbon lifts TK up and absorbs a scolding from the ref as he steps back onto the apron. TK follows after him and tags his partner back into the match.

TODD: Oh no, this is bad news for Jake Borden! Bourbon’s in the ring now, and he’s laying it on thick!


As Bobby lifts Jake for a suplex, Borden slips behind him and - - -  ROLLS HIM UP WITH A SCHOOLBOY PIN OF HIS OWN!

1!



2!!



BOBBY KICKS OUT!

Borden starts crawling for his corner as Bobby Bourbon scrambles after him.

TK charges to intercept, but Borden ducks under his clothesline, and makes the hot tag to Roger  - - - WITH FULL FORCE!

The crowd explodes as Roger hits the ring like a whirlwind, splashing Bobby with a running dropkick, sending him into the corner!

Roger follows it up with a series of chops to Bourbon’s chest, each one getting a louder WOOOOO! from the fans.

TODD: Roger’s back in, and he’s fired up! Look at the intensity!

BAMA: He’s channeling the fury of the fans right now, baby! Skidding in with those chops! Bourbon can’t keep up!

Roger hits the ropes and goes for a running forearm, but Bourbon ducks and catches Roger with a MASSIVE CLOTHESLINE

ROGER IS TURNED INSIDE OUT!

Bourbon drops down for the cover!

1!





2!!






ROGER KICKS OUT!


TODD: AGAIN - Just barely, but Roger’s still alive! He’s been through hell, but he’s still kicking!

BAMA: That’s what I like to see! Roger’s resilience is what got them the Tag Titles in the first place! But Bobby baby aint letting up!

Bobby lifts Roger up and whips him into the ropes, catching him on the rebound with a backbreaker! He rolls over for another pin!

1!






2!!









Roger kicks out!




TODD: Another kickout from Roger! This guy won’t quit! B you’ve got to feel that if he keeps getting hit like this, he may not be able to kick out of many more!

Bobby Bourbon tags in TK, who enters the ring and immediately lifts Roger for a vertical suplex, but Roger fights out and lands on his feet behind TK!

He pushes him toward the corner, but TK counters with a back elbow, knocking Roger back!

TODD: Them Bastards are still in control! This match is starting to feel like it’s slipping away from the champions!


Roger, stumbling, from the elbow falls backward and tags Borden back into the match, and the crowd roars as Borden hits the ring - - - FULL FORCE!

He nails TK with a forearm, then ducks an interfering Bobby’s clothesline, hitting him with a swinging neckbreaker! He leaps onto the turnbuckle. Bobby rolls out of the ring, and as TK stands…


- - - - DIVING DOUBLE AXEHANDLE!!!


Borden scrambles for the cover!

1!






2!!







Bobby breaks it up just in time!!!



TODD: What a chaotic sequence! Borden’s got the energy, but TK and Bourbon are like a wall right now!

BAMA: And that wall ain’t going down easy! They’ve been here before, The Bastards are one of the most decorated Tag Teams in professional wrestling history for a reason!

Borden tries to get back to his feet, but TK and Bourbon both charge him.

TK lifts Borden for a pop-up powerbomb, but Borden flips out mid-air, landing on his feet! He sprints toward the ropes, springboarding back at both men with a flying forearm that knocks them both down!

TODD: Incredible athleticism from Borden! He’s going FULL FORCE now!

Borden drags TK to the center of the ring and locks him into a Boston Crab!

TK tries to crawl but Bobby breaks it up with a running elbow drop to Borden’s back! Giving TK all of the room he needs to grab the ropes to force the break.

TODD: And just like that, Borden’s submission is broken! What a back and forth!

BAMA: These two teams are making our entire Anarchy brand proud right now. The stakes couldn’t be higher with the gold on the line, baby! WHAT A MAIN EVENT!

But Borden’s not done yet.

He tags in Roger once more, and….

TODD: OH MY GOD!!!!

THEY DOUBLE TEAM TK - - - BORDEN LIFTING HIM WITH AUTHORITY AND HITTING THE MOST TECHNICALLY PROFICIENT BACKBREAKER THE WORLD HAS EVER SEEN!

ROGER LEAPS OFF WITH A DIVING KNEE DROP

BAMA: THEY’RE STEALING TK AND BOBBY’S LUNCH MONEY!



BUT ROGER MISSES THE KNEE DROP!



AND BOBBY FROM BEHIND!

He charges the ring corner and crushes Borden with a big splash!


Roger ducks out of the way as Borden folds to the mat. Bobby is escorted out of the ring again… but with no time to waste, Roger has TK by the legs…



- - - - ANOTHER SHARPSHOOTER! AND THIS ONE IS LOCKED IN PERFECTLY!!!

TK is screaming out in pain as the tag champ has the hold locked in good. TK is doing everything he can to pull to the ropes, but Roger has found the perfect physics formula to keep TK locked in place. In fact! Roger is actually speaking the physics formula aloud. Assuring us all that it’s only a matter of moments now before TK is forced to tap, not like that dirty water full of sewer feces particles, but tap like the way he did in a dance contest one time when - - -


TK GOT THE ROPES!!!!

Roger breaks the hold, and observes Borden clapping for him. Roger starts clapping along in unison with his back turned to TK who’s crawled over to Bobby for the tag.


Roger turns back his eyes going wide - - - BOBBYBOMB


IS SKIDDED AROUND




ROGER THROWS HIS HEAD AT BOBBY!!!!!!!!!










BUT IT’S COUNTERED!!!!




BOURBON LIFTS ROGER UP INTO A VERTICAL SUPLEX AS TK CLIMBS THE ROPES!




Rainbow Laser Death Sequence!


TODD: RAINBOW LASER DEATH SEQUENCE!!!!

BOBBY COVERS ROGER!


1!





2!!


TK BLASTS BORDEN OFF OF THE APRON!





3!!!


WINNERS -and NEW Anarchy Tag Team Champions- THEM NO GOOD BASTARDS



TODD: NEW TAG CHAMPS!

BAMA: THEM NO GOOD BASTARDS HAVE DONE IT!


TK and Bobby are both laid out on the mat, exhausted, as Roger rolls out of the ring. The ref tries to help them up, but it’s no use. He lays the tag titles across their waists as the crowd roars with approval of the match


TODD: Say what you will, Bama, but this tag team match? It was one for the ages!

BAMA: Roger and Jake Borden, might’ve been Anarchy’s first tag champs, and they might now be the former champs, but this won't be their last time holding that gold. But tonight is the night that Them No Good Bastards take hold of the reins of the Anarchy Tag Team ranks!

We finally see Bobby and TK stand. They look at each other, then look at the titles and laugh before raging the belts in the air.

TODD: That’s all of the time we have for you tonight folks. The next time we see you, we’ll be joining our colleagues from Warfare in Coreytopia, Florida for Mayday 3!]]>




04 - 17 - 2025






LIVE FROM OLIMPIC ARENA

BADALONA, SPAIN







REVOLUTION CHAMPIONSHIP
MATTHIAS SYN©
- vs -
JUSTIN YORK
- vs -
SOLOMON KLINE
TRIPLE THREAT




NON-TITLE

’ALLEGEDLY’ MICHEAL GRAVES
- vs -
LARRY TACT







SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX






MADISON DYSON
- vs -
MR. OZ








X-TREME CHAMPIONSHIP

MARISOL VILARO
- vs -
TOMMY WISH

X-TREME RULES: #VILAROFIT EDITION









TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP

”CAVORTIN” JAKE BORDEN & ROGER ©
- vs -
THEM NO GOOD BASTARDS
THUNDER KNUCKLES & BOBBY BOURBON

1 TEAM COLLAB 2K



OOC: ANARCHY RULES is 1 RP with a 1K WORD LIMIT unless stated otherwise
Hard deadline for Anarchy will be WEDNESDAY, 04-15-2025 at 11:59pm board time. Good luck!


TODD: Folks, this show tonight is so stacked, our opening match would be the main event on any other night!

BAMA: You ain’t lyin’, Toddrick! We just got out the garage and we’re already in sixth gear!



"Forgotten" by The Plot In You plays throughout the arena. The lights go out. Once the beat drops, a spotlight shines on the entryway, where SOLOMON KLINE appears inside the light, clad in a black hoodie over his ring gear and kneeling on his right knee.

TODD: Second-generated XWF star, Solomon Kline! He had a very impressive showing in the Ides of March tournament… if Aurora and Gorgo hadn’t drawn and he’d ended up in the only triple-threat, you have to wonder if he might have upset either of them one-on-one!

BAMA: Sol’s got a chip on his shoulder, trying to exceed his daddy’s impressive career! But, this young man’s got talent by the barrel!

TODD: No doubt, Bama! Kline ended up in this match because he laid down the gauntlet to the Revolution champion… He’s campaigning for XWF Rookie of the Year already… Can Solomon Kline secure his first championship gold in the XWF tonight?

As the lyrics come in, he stands, removes his hood and surveys the crowd as sparks rain down around him. He grooves his way toward the ring, and high fives fans along the way. He circles the ring and slides under the bottom rope. He continues rocking out to the song and at the 1:50 mark, he goes to the turnbuckle with a primal scream as the lyrics say "I have spent my life chasing things that have only brought me pain. In the end when I'm dead, hope it was for something!"

He returns to the ring and readies himself for the match.

…



One for the money rings throughout the arena as JY steps out from behind the curtain with a kings crown on. He stands center stage and takes in all of the boo’s before adjusting his crown with a smirk and heading down to the ring.

RING ANNOUNCER: INTROOODUUUUCINGGGG The One, The Only. He hails from TOOOROOONTOOO ONTARIOOOO CANADAAAAA, KING JUUUUUSTIIINNN YOOOOOORK!

TODD: Now, if you wanna talk impressive starts on Anarchy, Justin York returned to the XWF just a few short weeks ago and has been shooting for the Revolution champion like a rocket sled on rails!

BAMA: You ain’t kiddin’, Toddy! York got on the mic back in February and said some very derogatory things about Matthias Syn and his internal fortitude and his need to get his ass whooped! Ever since then, York’s been a man on a mission!

TODD: York upset his own company’s world champion Cyph3r in a #1 contender’s match for the Revolution! Then, York went on at Ides of March to beat former Revolution Champion, Mister Oz!

BAMA: The “King” has been on the warpath… And now he’s outside the gates of the Revolution kingdom! Will he claim what he thinks is rightfully is!

York enters the ring and stands on the middle ropes and holds his crown high in the air while giving a death stare into the crowd.

…



The opening riff of The hangman's body count by Volbeat starts to play throughout the arena as the lights dim. Several red and purple laser lights envelope the stage as Matthias Syn casually walks through the curtain. As he steps onto the stage, he stops and acknowledges the crowd by stretching both arms forward while touching his balled up fists together, the Revolution title sitting on his shoulder!

TODD: Matthias Syn! THE Revolution Champion! At the time I’m making this statement, Matthias Syn has been Revolution Champion for two-hundred-fifty-two CONSECUTIVE days!

BAMA: It’s been an impressive reign, Toddrick! Especially impressive when you know that the other three men that have held that belt only kept it for a combined one-hundred-thirty-seven days between them!

TODD: For over two-thirds of its existence as a championship, the Revolution title has belonged to Matthias Syn! And by holding it, Syn has become synonymous with Revolution!

BAMA: And that includes SIX title defenses! Against top Anarchy talents like Summer Page! Mister Oz!

…Also, Roger.

TODD: It’s been an incredible reign for Matthias Syn! And you know he’s doing everything in his power to make his reign last forever! But, tonight, he’s facing two men that have personally called for his head! Will the Matthias Syn Revolution roll on?

After several seconds he begins to nonchalantly walk down the ramp towards the ring, not allowing the fans to touch him.

On the way to the ring… the camera catches him nodding at a scruffy man dressed all in black…

The camera pans out… Actually, in the front row, on all four sides of the ring, men dressed all in black, totalling four…

…The four men, in unison, don Matthias Syn dual-personality masks…

TODD: Bama, who are these guys Syn’s signalling to?

BAMA: I ain’t got a clue, Toddy, I just work here!

…Syn, having communicated with his crew… slides under the bottom rope, jumps to his feet and poses on the ropes. As he drops down from the ropes he takes off his red leather shearling coat, hands it to the ring girl and sits on the middle turnbuckle…

…

The moment Syn’s music cuts, the official raises the Revolution title! And signals to the timekeeper!

DING DING!



REVOLUTION CHAMPIONSHIP
MATTHIAS SYN©
- vs -
JUSTIN YORK
- vs -
SOLOMON KLINE
TRIPLE THREAT


The moment the bell rings, Solomon Kline bursts out of the corner, with fury and fire!

TODD: And here we go!

Syn raises his dukes, ready to scrap when Kline charges straight toward… “King” Justin York!

BAMA: Whoa whoa! Both Kline *and* York called out Syn but now Kline’s attacking York!

TODD: It’s not a handicap match, Bama! Only one of these men is leaving with the Revolution Title and Kline’s smart enough to know Justin York is as big a threat to preventing his victory as is the reigning Revolution champion!

York’s caught off-guard, as Kline drove his shoulder into York’s ribs with a spear that nearly folded the veteran in half!

BAMA: Dang! What a first move!

TODD: No one can accuse the self-proclaimed Rookie of the Year of lacking boldness!

The air’s taken out of York’s lungs, as he’s collapsed into the corner, gasping for breath. The crowd barely had time to react before Kline shoves off the mat, swinging his arm with raw rage—aiming for Matthias Syn.

…Aiming a decapitating clothesline!

BAMA: Kline ain’ gettin’ paid by the hour! He’s looking to snag this win in record-time!

Kline swings…

And a MISS!

Syn, measured and controlled, was a step quicker than Kline’s blitzkrieg attack, springing out of his corner and ducking under Kline’s lariat!

Kline bursts forward, bouncing off the turnbuckle pad and charging back out… While Syn also rides his burst of speed to hit the ropes, rebounding off…

TODD: These two freight trains are barreling full-speed ahead at each other!

Kline’s looking for another clothesline…

But Syn leaps through the air!

LEG LARIAT across the chest of Solomon Kline!

BAMA: What-a-maneuver!

Kline’s head snaps back as his back slams onto the canvas!

Syn lands on his knees, snickering as he takes control of another title match…

When suddenly, he’s waistlocked from behind!


TODD: York strikes back!

BAMA: With three men in the ring, there’s not going to be any room for the champ to catch his breath!

Syn, out of defensive reflex, throws a wild elbow, aiming to decapitate the mastermind behind Pro Wrestling Valor!

…

But ‘King’ Justin York ducks under! Syn swings around, coming face-to-face with York!

…Who wraps him in a front facelock!

And snaps off a vertical suplex!

Syn’s body lands on the mat with a THUD!

BAMA: Daaaang, Toddrick! Syn’s no strawman, but York just tossed him like he was made out of hay!

TODD: No doubt about it, Bama! York is an absolute tank!

As the Revolution champ counts arena rafters from the mat, York sat up, grinning smugly, taking a moment to brush imaginary dust off his shoulder…

Not realizing Solomon Kline was charging in!

TODD: No time for showmanship! Here comes Kline!

Before York even knows what’s going on, Klines’s diving feetfirst across the ring…

RUNNING DROPKICK! Straight to the back of York’s skull!

York gets launched under the bottom rope, rolling to the outside, landing hard on his shoulder!

TODD: York’s been knocked from the ring! No interference! This is like a power play for Solomon Kline!

BAMA: Or Matthias Syn!

Kline didn’t wait a moment to take advantage of York’s absence. He pivoted on his knees toward Syn, who was pulling himself upright by the ropes… Kline grabbed the prone Syn by the wrist…

Then tugged him close for a…

CLOTHESLINE! Syn’s body does a full backflip, before landing flat on his back!

BAMA: Holy Hell! Someone take down that license plate, Syn just got ran over!

Kline beckons the official as he hooks the leg!

1!

2!

THR-No! Syn forces a shoulder up!

TODD: That clothesline looked *devastating* but it’ll take more than that to take the Revolution title from Matthias Syn!

…Kline shoves himself off the mat, ready to go right back to work on the champ… He grasps Syn by the scruff of the neck…

But Syn stiff-arms Kline away!

Kline tries to cut the gap between them and grapple Syn…

But Syn…

Acrobatically leaps onto Kline’s knee!

And clips Solomon with a kick to the skull! Step-up Enzuigiri!

TODD: Wow! Incredible improvised aerial maneuver by Matthias Syn!

…York shakes off the cobwebs, he pushes himself off the mat to roll back in the ring…

BAMA: Ah! Looks like York’s ready to clock back into work…

…When he sees Syn charging after Kline in the corner…

…York’s eyes narrow thoughtfully…

As he smiles… And ducks back down beneath the apron, eyeing the action surreptitiously!

TODD: What the… What’s York doing?

BAMA: He’s letting his opponents tucker themselves out! Both York and Syn are running this like a race, ol’ wiley York knows it’s a marathon!

Syn corners Kline, who’s looking dazed and confused after that kick!

Syn charges in…

But Kline surprises him, catching Syn in a grapple and rotating his footing! Now Syn’s in the corner!

TODD: Incredible counter by the rookie!

…But Syn, now his back to the corner, clinches onto Kline’s grapple…

And slams himself backwards onto the mat, driving Kline face-first into the middle turnbuckle! REVERSE STO!

BAMA: Oh SHIT! That looked ugly!

Kline’s face rebounds HARD and his body rolls like it just got tossed from a moving car!

Syn sneers confidently as he grabs Kline by the legs, drags him to the center of the ring, and rolls into a cover!

ONE!

TWO!

THRE-Justin York rolls under the bottom rope to elbow drop the back of Syn’s skull!

TODD: York enjoyed his break, *now* he’s ready to BREAK Syn!

Syn clutched his neck, rolling away in agony…

York eyes the champ…

And rolls back outside the ring!

TODD: Oh c’mon!

BAMA: Hey, there’s no prize for hitting the most moves OR getting hit by the most moves! Justin York knows the only guy going home with the belt is the one that scores the three-count at the end!

…Syn cradles his aching skull… He starts to rise at the same time as the woozy Solomon Kline!

Syn swings a right hand… But, Kline ducks under, getting Syn from behind and catching the champ around the waist…

German suplex!

Syn’s body crumples against the mat… But Kline doesn’t release the waistlock!

Instead, Kline forces Syn off the mat, up to his feet…

And launches Syn across! GERMAN SUPLEX!

TODD: Wow!

BAMA: This Kline boy’s a goddamn workhorse!

Syn’s back against collides with the mat… But Kline’s not done!

Outside the ring, York’s given up hiding under the apron… Instead lounging by the barricade, smirking as his opponents do his work for him…

When one of Syn’s lackeys leans over the barricade and mutters something in York’s ear.

…York’s demeanor darkens…

TODD: What did that odd man just say to Justin York?

BAMA: I’m sitting next to you, Toddy! How the Hell would I know?!?

Kline, through force of will and determined, drags Syn again off his feet, ready to complete the triple…

When York runs for the ring and slides under the ropes!

TODD: Well, we can’t be sure what Syn’s colleague said to York, but he looks none-too-pleased about it!

Kline’s vein bulge… Syn reaches for the ropes to stop a third German… but he’s out of reach!

York slides under the bottom rope…

Kline heaves…

York charges!

But Syn sees York coming and ducks…

As York delivers a HUGE BOOT! Taking Solomon Kline’s head almost off his shoulders!

TODD: Wow! What a strike!

Kline skids like roadkill on the highway until his crumpled body lands against the ropes!

He went for a third—but York returned, slipping behind Kline and snapping his arm forward into a short-arm clothesline that decked the second-generation powerhouse. Kline hit the mat hard, landing awkwardly on his shoulder.

BAMA: Kline got knocked into next Thursday from York’s strike aimed at Syn!

TODD: Don’t be sure! If York was aiming that strike specifically for Syn, why’s he still coming after Kline!

Indeed, York, instead of covering the opponent he just blasted, drags Kline off the mat… Deadlifts him into a military press position…

Before slamming him gut first onto York’s knee! GUTBUSTER!

Kline let out a strangled gasp as his abs folded over York’s knee!

York sneers down at Kline, barking insults at the Second-Generation XWFer!

TODD: …Folks, we don’t know what was said to Justin York, but it seemed to really turn him off Solomon Kline!

As York insults Kline, from behind, Syn rises out from the mat…

York reaches down, calling to finish this one…

He leans down to grapple Kline…

When Syn snaps up behind him and clasps him in a rolling wristlock!

Syn drags York to the mat…

And locks in the SYNTHEORY!

SYNTHEORY dead center of the ring!

TODD: Incredible! Syn somehow went from getting suplexed by Kline to taking full control of this match!

BAMA: 252 days and counting, Toddy! Matthias Syn could find a needle of victory in a haystack made of defeat!

Syn, on the precipice of victory, doesn’t bother savoring the feeling of control, immediately applying all the torque he can onto York’s arm!

York HOWLS in agony, the vein in his forehead bulging as pain SEARS through his arm!

BAMA: This could be it!

York’s arm shakes!

He’s got nowhere to go!

…

…..

But Kline charges in! Stomping Syn in the back of the head!

TODD: Oh my God! The match continues!

Kline collapses onto one knee, clearly having not fully shaken off York’s gutbuster…

…Syn cradles his pulsating skull as he scampers off the mat…

York’s arm dangles by his side as he lifts himself up…

TODD: All these men have been through Hell!

BAMA: But only one’s leaving with the belt, Toddy!

Just like at the match’s start, Kline charges first…

This time at the champ!

But Syn catches Kline by the face and shoves him backwards into the corner!

TODD: Disrespectful attack by Syn!

Suddenly, from the rear, Syn gets booted in the side by York…

BAMA: York’s pickin’ his moment and takin’ it!

York spins Syn around… Locking him in a front facelock, prepping for a Killzone…

But Kline springs out of the corner!

And leaps!

ASHES TO ASHES! Running Forearm smash to the face!

York gets bodied, flipping backwards on his shoulders into the corner!

TODD: This could be Kline’s moment!

Kline reaches for Syn… and powers him into the air, setting up for a Dust to Dust!

…But Syn slips out the back!

Catches Kline in a guillotine hold!

SYNTHESIS!

TODD: Matthias Syn hit it! Syn hit the SYNThesis!

BAMA: The Matthias Syn revolution rolls on!

Syn… exhaustedly but cockily… scrambles to get the cov-

WHAM! SPEAR!

Outta the corner like a freight train, York catches Syn with a devastating spear, embedding him into the corner!

Syn collapses onto his front, holding his gut!

BAMA: What I say, Toddrick! York picked his moment!

TODD: But will he be able to put Syn away?

…York drops..

And covers Kline!

BAMA: He doesn’t have to, Toddy!

TODD: The High Ring IQ of Justin York is on full display tonight!

ONE!

Syn, from the mat, crawls arm-over-arm outta the corner…

TWO!

Syn pounces, to break up the count!

He lands on the pin!

…

A MOMENT AFTER THE THREE COUNT!

WINNER AND NEW REVOLUTION CHAMPION: “KING” JUSTIN YORK!


TODD: WOW! He actually pulled it off! Justin York is your new Revolution champion!

BAMA: Don’t look now, Toddy, but I don’t think Syn’s pals are headed to the ring as a congratulatory committee!

Indeed, Syn’s four black-clad allies hop the barricade!

York holds up his belt, daring them to str-

FWOOOOOOOOSH

The lights cut out.

…

…..

They flip back on!

TODD: -e lose power? What just hap-

BAMA: Toddy, look!

In the ring, Kline and York are tangled in the ropes, wrapped and unconscious…

As Matthias Syn sits cross-legged in the center of the ring…

Flanked by his black-clad associates…

Covered in blood.

BAMA: What the fuck?!?

TODD: Folks, please standb-

STATIC

…



NON-TITLE

’ALLEGEDLY’ MICHEAL GRAVES
- vs -
LARRY TACT


The two men circle each other in the ring as the audience waits on the edge of their seats. Larry and Graves exchange snarls before locking up briefly, but both men push off from the grapple after just a few seconds. That's when Graves throws a sharp low kick, but Tact checks it and responds with a stiff forearm. Graves stumbles back before he returns fire with a snap jab. The pair tie up once more, each man jockeying for control. Tact powers Graves into the ropes, but breaks clean when the referee comes in between them to announce the rope break.


BAMA: Look at the power, look at the strength!

TODD: Who's power and who's strength are you talking about, Bama?

BAMA: BOFFUM'!

The pair reset after the rope break. Graves ducks under a lunge from Larry and lands another leg kick then another, and another. Tact swings wide but Graves slips it and goes behind for a German suplex attempt, but Tact counters with a back elbow and snapmares Graves to the mat. As soon as Graves steps to his feet, Larry follows up with a dropkick to the spine. Graves rolls away, clutching his back, but Tact stays on him. He starts delivering big boots to Graves' back before he lifts Graves into a gutwrench suplex. Graves writhes in pain, but Tact doesn’t let up for a moment. He continually pounds Graves with elbows and forearms before he drags Graves to his feet...only to bring him back down to the mat with another suplex!

TODD: Larry Tact came to Anarchy tonight to make a big statement, and so far, it's working! If he can pull out the win against the champion here tonight, then there's no telling how far he can rise in the ranks!

BAMA: You're damn right that this is a great opportunity for Larry here tonight, and he's making the most of it so far!

Graves rolls to the apron and pulls himself up using the ropes. Tact approaches Graves, but the champion kicks Tact in the stomach and forces him to keel over. Then, Graves grabs Tact in a front facelock before he drives Tact's head down to the mat with a vicious DDT! Both men are down, breathing hard. Micheal Graves gets to his feet first, but only a few seconds before Tact. As Graves sees Tact rising, Graves charges forward with a huge running knee that connects right on the temple of Larry Tact's forehead. Micheal Graves makes the sliding cover as the referee comes in to count the pinfall attempt.



1!



2!!



KICKOUT!!!




TODD: Larry Tact ain't going out like that, not yet!

BAMA: Larry Tact still has a lot to prove here tonight, Todd, so it's no surprise he kicked out!


Graves bickers with the referee for only a few moments before he glances down towards Larry. Graves snarls as he traps the arms of Tact, and then he starts raining down elbows from the topmount position. Tact tries to move his head to avoid the elbows as best he can, but it's no use: Graves has his arms trapped, leaving him defenseless! After a dozen or so elbows, Larry's forehead is busted wide open, and Micheal Graves starts grinning like a madman as the blood flies off Larry's forehead.


TODD: The champion just busted Larry wide open!

BAMA: Uh oh, this isn't looking so good for Larry anymore! He started this match off red-hot, but now, baby the Gravy Train is rolling!

Graves looks down at Tact with a sick smile on his face before heading over to the top rope. As the referee comes in to check on a bleeding and disoriented Tact, Graves is getting ready for a big move off the top rope. Micheal looks out at the crowd, then down towards Larry. The Anarchy Champion enacts some grand, performative gestures before he finally dives high into the air....

BUT TACT MOVES OUT OF THE WAY!

GRAVES CONNECTS WITH NOTHING BUT MAT, HEAD-FIRST!

TACT MAKES THE COVER!



1!




2!!




KICKOUT!!!


TODD: Larry almost had the champion! He almost had him right there!

BAMA: Graves has to be careful against Larry Tact! That showboating almost got him killed!

TODD: Both of these men have given it their all tonight, and both are damn near dead for it!

Larry and Graves both lay on the mat, exhausted and covered in Larry's blood. The referee looks down at both men, only to notice that neither one seems to be particularly responsive. The referee starts counting both men down, but Tact suddenly starts to stir around the 8 count. Then, instead of letting the count finish, Larry Tact instead takes matters into his own hands. Larry grabs Graves' by the neck, lifting him up to a standing position.

TODD: It looks like Larry might be setting Graves' up for something big right here!

As Larry tries to contort Graves' into position for a big move, the champion has a sudden burst of energy! Graves sweeps Tact's weakened legs out from under him, causing Larry to slip to the ground. Then, a groggy Graves grabs Larry by the scruff of his neck before putting him in position for a reverse DDT, but instead of bringing him to the mat, Graves brings Larry's head crashing down right into his knee! Graves' follows up the knee to the back of the head with a Cross Rhodes out of nowhere!

TACT IS OUT COLD!

GRAVES MAKES THE COVER!



1!


2!!


3!!!




Winner by Pinfall - "Allegedly" Micheal Graves






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 is truly Anarchy royalty! One of the highest ELO stars on the Anarchy brand! One of the most dominant competitors to grace Thursday nights!

BAMA: But, if she’s royalty, where’s her gold, Toddy baby?

TODD: Indeed, Bama! At Ides of March, she came the closest she’s maybe ever come in her XWF career to championship gold… Teaming with the bizarre, paranoid Richard Powers against Roger and Jake Borden… But she came up just short…

BAMA: Her fifth miss! She said in ‘er promo, Toddrick! She’s oh-fer-five!

TODD: Summer may not have a belt, but she’s a champion-at-heart. And the thing about champs… is their most dangerous when they have something to prove! Summer is ITCHING to prove she deserves another chance to compete with gold on the line! And tonight’s her chance to prove just that!

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.



As The Storm is Coming hits, a cackling laugh echoes over the PA system.

Suddenly, blue lights shimmer over the X-Tron! Smoke and rainfall stream down as LATOYA HIXX walks through the curtain, flexing her muscles.

TODD: Speaking of people with something to prove… Latoya Hixx! Truly one of the strongest competitors, not just among the XWF’s women competitors, but among the entire roster! But, that strength hasn’t translated into championship success! Summer’s unhappy with an 0-5 title match record? Latoya’s gone 0-for-7 in title matches across her XWF career!

BAMA: Now, how’s that possible, Toddy? After all, this is her only second match here on Anarchy!

TODD: We-... what?

BAMA: That’s what Hixx said in her promo, Toddrick! That she was about to make her second match here on Anarchy!

TODD: …Second match? Hixx made her Anarchy debut in March of last year, Bama! She’s wrestled a LOT more than two matches!

BAMA: What are you saying, Toddy? That Hixx doesn’t know how to count past two?

TODD: …Anyway…

Hixx walks straight down towards the aisle, slaps a few XWF fans, and then enters the ring!

The lights dim! Cameras flash as Hixx flexes her arms once more. She screams “LET’S GOOOOOOO!”

TODD: Well, this match doesn’t have a title on the line, but has major implications for both stars going forward! If Summer wants to prove she deserves another title shot, a big win over Hixx would go a long way to proving that! And Hixx, who’s lost her last two matches against Page… she’d have a major case for a Thursday Night title shot if she could finally put together the pieces to secure a win over Page!

BAMA: Pfff, two matches! Did she wrestle Page twice last Anarchy? Cuz this is only Latoya’s second Anarchy!

TODD: It’s not, Bama!

The competitors stand across from each other! Hixx stretches and smugly fires comments over at Page, who remains dialed-in, simply waiting for the bell to ring.

The official signals to the timekeeper.

DING DING


SUMMER PAGE
- vs -
LATOYA HIXX


TODD: Alright, here we g-

The moment the bell rings, Summer explodes out of her corner, all rage and aggression!

She charges Hixx with reckless speed, throwing sharp forearms into her chest and jaw, each one landing with a loud thwack.

BAMA: Gah dang! School must be out cuz it’s SUMMER TIME!

TODD: Summer Page wasting NO time taking the fight straight to Latoya Hixx!

Latoya, clearly taken off-guard by the change in Page’s tact from evasive cruiserweight to vicious striker, stumbles backward surprised!

As Page charges forward to continue her offensive barrage, Hixx spins, throwing a wild backfist!

…

MISS!

Summer ducks under Hixx’s strike and plants her feet, scooping Latoya from behind in a waistlock… Before tearing off a…

SNAP GERMAN SUPLEX!

BAMA: Guttentag, Latoya!

TODD: Wow! Very impressive! Maybe Summer picked up anything from a veteran like Powers!

BAMA: If Summer knew best, she didn’t pick up anything that came within ten feet of Powers!

The crowd gasps as Latoya's massive frame crashes onto the mat! Hixx rolls ass-over-teakettle, launched from one end of the ring to the other.

Hixx’s legs dangle over her head, as her shoulders are pressed against the mat… but Summer scrambles up, refusing to give her opponent a moment to breathe!

BAMA: Wow! Latoya has been completely taken out of her game here!

TODD: Hixx is used to physically imposing her will on her opponents… But Summer’s come out here and dominated Hixx by taking the fight right to her!

Hixx groggily rolls up to a seated position… She tries to push off the m-

SUMMER PAGE HIGH KNEE! Connects like a heat-seeking missile sraight to Latoya Hixx’s jaw!

Hixx’s head snaps back VIOLENTLY! High Knee right to the jaw, snapping her head back violently so hard, she woozily gets spun… back onto her feet!

BAMA: Hot damn! Summer’s knocked Hixx off her feet… Then knocked her right back on him!

Hixx’s eyes blinks as she tries to figure out which way is up… As Summer starfish kip-ups onto her feet, snaps Hixx in a wristlock…

IRISH WHIP!

And on the rebound—

The most PERFECT Tilt-a-Whirl Russian Leg Sweep You’ve Ever Seen In Your Life!

TODD: WOW! That was the most perfect tilt-a-whirl Russian Leg Sweep I’ve Ever Seen in my Entire Life!

BAMA: *sniff* They should have sent a painter, a poet and a musical theatre director, because that move was ART!

Summer spins with her like a cyclone and slams Hixx’s spine directly into the canvas with brutal precision. Latoya arches her back in pain, clutching at it… her massive frame actually causing additional pressure on her vertebrae!

Summer pops to her feet and roars, chest heaving, sweat already shining on her forehead! The crowd roars with her!

TODD: This might be the best we’ve ever seen Summer Page!

BAMA: And the crowd loves it!

Latoya dizzily stutter-steps back into the corner…

Summer points before charging with everything she’s got…

Corner Splash!

…

But Latoya catches her in midair!

TODD: Oh no! Latoya played a little possum, as Page leapt right into her trap!

BAMA: Live by the ruthless aggression, die by the ruthless aggression, baby!

Latoya walks her opponent of the corner, before turning around, back to the corner…

Hixx cranks her neck, before delivering a…

Fallaway Slam! Summer’s spine unnaturally BUCKLES against the middle turnbuckle!

TODD: OUCH! That move looked horrendous on Page’s back!

Summer agonizes, as she rolls to her side, clutching at her spine.

…Latoya flexes her biceps to the crowd, soaking in the moment!

BAMA: So much charisma! So much showmanship! Can you believe this is only her second week on Anarchy!

TODD: No, I can’t! Because it’s not her second week!

Summer, still cradling her neck, crawls to one knee…

But Latoya’s already planning a follow-up attack! She peels Summer up to her feet, securing a front facelock…

And she lifts her like a flyweight…

Vertically…

…

Hixx releases one hand…

And performatively yawns, waving at her mouth…

TODD: …Okay, this is pretty impressive…

Finally, Hixx leans back!

DELAYED VERTICAL SUPLEX!

Summer crashes into the mat, the impact shaking the ring.

Hixx

One!

Tw-KICKOUT AT ONE!

TODD: Wow! Summer Page took some very physical moves… And didn’t even give Latoya a two-count!

Latoya snarls angrily… As Summer grits her teeth, pushing herself to her feet!

Latoya drags a thumb across her throat… before bouncing off the ropes!

Hixx drives her shoulder straight at Page!

SPEAR!

…

MISSES!

Summer leapfrogs over Hixx’s diving spear!

Hixx crashes facefirst into the middle turnbuckle!

TODD: Wow! Beautiful counter by Summer Page!


Hixx woozily spins around, away from the turnbuckle…

When Summer boots Hixx in the gut! And wraps her in a front facelock…

SNAP DDT! Page drives Latoya headfirst into the mat with such force that her body flips over onto her back!

Page crawls into the cov-...HIXX, working on instinct, shoves her opponent away toward the ropes.

TODD: Hixx digging deep to try and prevent Page from taking the match after that DDT…

Page regathers her footing as Hixx crawls to the ropes to pull herself up to her feet…

Page springs forward… Looking for a Total Knockout (Superkick)!

She swings…

…

BUT HIXX pulls her head out of the way!

As Summer’s foot sails past Hixx’s face…

Hixx clasps her hands together behind Page’s back…

BEAR HUG!

TODD: Oh no! Can Hixx manage to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat? She’s managed to lock Page in her signature Bear Hug!

BAMA: We’ve seen her do this before! Specifically, last Anarchy, at her first match, as this is her second Anarchy match…

TOD: Bama, seriously! Hixx’s been on Anarchy for over a year!

Hixx traps Summer’s arms, locking her in tight, squeezing with all the strength in her tank-like frame.

Summer’s eyes close, her demeanor focuses, her teeth grit…

And her spine contorts unnaturally as Hixx lifts her a few inches off the ground, before SQUEEEEEEEEZING her like a juicer!

…Page’s resolve starts to appear diminished… Each breath is harder than the last…

TODD: Can Hixx do it? Is the third time the charm for Hixx? Can she finally beat Summer Page!

BAMA: Third time? I think you mean to say, It looks like the upstart Hixx is about to win her second match on Anar-[/blue]

Suddenly, out of pure instinct and fury, Summer rears her head back…

THWACK!

HEADBUTT!

TODD: Holy COW! We’ve never seen Page do that before!

It’s a sickening, crunching sound… as  Latoya reels backward, dazed, her legs shaky.

Her grips loosens as Page drops to the mat, rolling backwards to the ropes… Page snaps her stance sideways…

Hixx’s eyes glaze over, and she stumbles like she’s had the wind—and everything else—knocked out of her.

She blinks once. Twice.

And then—

TOTAL KNOCKOUT!

A picture-perfect Superkick, straight to the jaw. Hixx’s head snaps to the side violently. She drops like a tree, completely limp on the mat.

Summer drops for the cover—

1!

2!

…

THREE!

WINNER: ‘SPOILED’ SUMMER PAGE


TODD: A dominant victory for Summer Page!

Summer Page rolls off her fallen opponent, sweat dripping from her brow, chest rising and falling with each breath. No posing, no celebrating—just satisfaction. She won with skill, with grit, and with rage.

TODD: Latoya very nearly stole the victory, which shows just how dangerous she is… But Summer Page looked as dominant as she has her entire Anarchy run! If we keep getting performances like that, the ceiling is limitless for Summer Page!





A choir stands on stage, in safe spots, as flame begins to erupt from the stage, as Oz walks out. It seems as if Oswald has literally paid for an entire metal orchestra, just to play him to the ring. As the first lick of the guitar hits the air and the drums start off, Oz starts to walk to the ring, dressed in a large white cloak covering his body. However, instead of entering the ring first, he waits. He stands there near the ring floor next to the edge of the ramp. He slowly pulls off the cloak, folds it and then places it on the edge of the ring, next to one of the posts before climbing onto the apron and over the top rope where he goes to his corner, sitting down as he waits for the bell.



Madison Dyson saunters out onto the ramp as a plume of gold smoke filters out.

Madison Dyson then heads down the aisle confidently, bitching out any plebes that dare to boo her. She's often clad in elaborate feathery robes. The X-Tron shows a barrage of images of Madison kicking the holy living shit out of that abject loser Sean Parker and others, intercut with her name logo and a queen's crown laden with barbed wire. Once at the ring, she takes her time getting in, walking ginergly up the steps and demanding the official hold the ropes open for her.

The referee calls for the bell to ring, and the match begins.

DING DING DING


MADISON DYSON
- vs -
MISTER OZ


Mr. Oz charges at Madison, but she quickly sidesteps and delivers a swift dropkick to his knee. Oz stumbles but quickly regains his balance, turning to face Madison. Madison takes advantage of his momentary stumble and lands a series of open-hand slaps, each one landing across Oz's face.

BAMA: OUCH! Dyson is really laying in those slaps!

TODD: The sound of them hitting his face is rather entertaining.

Oz is enraged and grabs Madison and lifts her into the air, slamming her down with a thunderous spinebuster.  Madison rolls out of the ring to recover, but Oz follows, grabbing her and tossing her back into the ring and then driving her to the canvas with a huge hip toss. Madison crashes to the mat, and Oz quickly follows up with a knee drop, driving his knee into her chest. Oz makes a cover and gets only a count of one.

BAMA: Dyson powers out at only one!!

TODD: All that’s going to do is anger the powerhouse!

Madison struggles to breathe but manages to kick Oz away. She gets to her feet and rushes at him, but Oz is ready. He delivers a powerful clothesline, sending Madison crashing to the mat.

TODD: Dyson has to find a way to overcome the brute strength of Oz or this things a wrap.

BAMA: You don’t say.

Madison reaches up and viciously gouges his eyes catching Oz off guard. He takes a few steps back clutching his eyes trying to regain his sight. Madison takes advantage and leaps to her feet, hooking his head and pulling him in for a sit-out jawbreaker which sends Oz crashing to the canvas.

BAMA: Ever the opportunist!

Oz struggles to get to a vertical base but Madison is relentless. She grabs him and executes a picture perfect swinging neckbreaker, driving the back of his head and neck into the mat. Madison hooks the leg and gets only a count of two as Oz powers her off of him sending her into the air on the kickout.

BAMA: Everytime I see him he gets stronger and stronger, I swear.

TODD: He’s an incredible physical specimen that’s for certain!

Oz and Madison get back to their feet at practically the same time and he manages to grab and lift her into the air and squeezes the life out of her with a bear hug. Madison struggles to breathe which only prompts Oz to squeeze even harder. Just as it looks like she’s going to fade she uses one last surge of energy to drive elbows into the top of his head which allows her to slip out and deliver a series of open-hand slaps once again ringing his bell.

TODD: Very resilient and cunning is Madison Dyson and she’s showing every bit of that right now!

BAMA: There’s those damn open hand slaps again!! WOOOO!

Oz, in a blind rage, charges at Madison once again, but she lays down on the canvas and rolls out of the ring. Oz follows and chases her around the ring. Madison slides back into the ring and he slides in a second behind her and she drops some heavy stomps into the back of his head. Oz seems to use this as fuel and stands back to his feet seemingly unfazed. Madison throws one heavy slap but Oz catches it and kicks her in the stomach and hoists her for a stalling vertical Suplex. Madison slips out the back door which prompts Oz to hit the ropes and drill her with a huge shoulder tackle that sends her crashing into the turnbuckles.

BAMA: HOLY SHII—

Madison is trying to regain her breath from that shoulder tackle by the powerhouse but Oz isn’t letting up. He grabs her by the hair and pulls her back to her feet and Irish whips her into the ropes and on the rebound drills her with a big boot. Madison hits the canvas hard and Oz goes for the cover, but Madison kicks out just in time.

TODD: That was the longest two count I’ve ever seen I think!

BAMA: Indeed it was, Indeed it was TODDY.

Madison once again finds herself desperate as she catches Oz off guard once more with an eye rake when he leans down to pull her up. She quickly follows up by leaping to her feet and striking with a standing dropkick which sends Oz stumbling back to the corner. She runs and drop kicks him in the knee which causes him to fall down to one knee. She strikes with a step up enzugiri that echoes throughout the arena. Madison makes the cover and at the very last second Oz once again powers her off of him.

BAMA: KICKOUT AT THE LAST SECOND!

TODD: This match could be over at any second.

Madison has a look of disbelief in her eyes as she attempts to lock in a knee bar but Oz quickly realizes the danger he’s in and pushes her off of with his other leg.

She quickly recovers and turns around while Oz is regaining his vertical base. Once he reaches his feet she hooks him for her Arm Trap Neckbreaker (Miss Feel Good) but he pushes her off into the ropes and on the rebound he tosses her up for the Pop up GTS (Sleep Now, Sweet Child O’ Mine) but she reverses in midair and drop kicks him in the side of the head. Oz goes crashing to the mat and Dyson lands awkwardly on the back of her head. Both competitors lay on the canvas in a heap.

The crowd is chanting “HOLY SHIT”

TODD – We are witnessing something special tonight, folks!

BAMA – I can’t feel my face and I’m not even in the match!

Both competitors stir as the crowd roars, their chants having converted to a “THIS IS AWESOME!”

Oz crawls toward the ropes, shaking the cobwebs loose, blood trickling from his lip. Madison clutches the back of her head but is already dragging herself up the ropes, eyes wild with desperation—and calculation.

Oz rises to his feet, staggering slightly. He sees Madison upright in the corner and charges, going for a final, annihilating Spear—

—but Madison drops to the mat at the last possible second, and Oz crashes shoulder-first into the steel ring post with sickening force!

TODD: GOOD GOD HE’S IMPALED HIMSELF!

BAMA: That shoulder’s separated for sure, Todd!

Oz slumps back from the corner in agony, and Madison, still clutching her neck, screams in frustration and determination. She hauls herself up onto the apron and climbs the turnbuckle behind Oz, the crowd rising with her.

Oz turns around just as Madison flies—Somersault Corkscrew Senton! She flattens Oz, the ring shuddering beneath them!

TODD: WHAT IN THE HELL WAS THAT!?

BAMA: She’s gonna kill herself and him doing stuff like that!

Madison doesn’t go for the cover. No. She wants to end him. She stares out at the crowd, eyes wide, a twisted smirk forming.

She grabs Oz by the hair and drags his nearly lifeless body toward the corner. She props his face up against the bottom turnbuckle—his jaw slumped over the middle buckle, arms hanging like dead weight.

TODD: No… NO… Don’t do it…

BAMA: She’s doing it.

Madison backs all the way across the ring. The crowd rises. Some cheer. Some scream. Some beg her not to.

Madison charges…

She leaps!

BOOM!

AMERICAN HISTORY YIKES!

A running dropkick straight to the back of Oz’s skull, driving his face violently into the exposed steel buckle!

KERACK!

The arena gasps.

Oz goes limp.

TODD: SOMEONE CALL THE EMTs!

Madison rolls him away from the corner, dazed herself, but knowing this is the moment. She doesn’t hook the leg—she sprawls across his chest like a conquering tyrant.

The official counts!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

WINNER: MADISON DYSON


BAMA: HOLY. SHIT. DYSON MIGHT HAVE KILLED HIM.

TODD: That was one of the most vicious, calculated, and brilliantly psychotic finishes I’ve ever seen!

BAMA: That wasn't a match. That was a statement! Madison Dyson just proved she will do anything to win![/blue]



TODD: Bama, when this match got booked, it was a simple one-on-one match between two top Anarchy talents… But, events that have transpired that have elevated this match to a championship bout AND a blood feud!

BAMA: Shooo, you ain’ kidding, Toddy! This one’s about to get nuttier than pecan praline puree!



It shows Tommy in the shadows in a corridor somewhere on the X-Tron in a hoodie, then it fades back into the arena where the lights flicker and the camera see's him coming down to the ring in his jacket hoodie, with him waving a Kendo Stick around him… As his X-Treme championship sits upon his shoulder.

TODD: Tommy Wish shocked the world when he pinned the Black Rainbow’s leader, The Eater of Dreams, Yelena Gorgo! A little over twenty-four hours after Black Rainbow delivered the beating heard around the world, injuring the King of the XWF… the XWF’s prodigal son, Tommy Wish found a way to snatch the X-Treme title from them!

BAMA: And shooo, he almost got his SOUL TAKEN for that, Toddy!

TODD: You aren’t kidding, Bama! Warfare Assistant GM Pip Collins scheduled Tommy Wish for an impromptu X-Treme title defense… And the THUGs wound up getting massacred by Gorgo! Worst of all, the match never started so Wish didn’t even get credit for the defense!

BAMA: Maybe the match didn’t start, but Wish still made it out with the X-Treme, Toddy! That makes him the winner in my book!

TODD: Understandable, Bama! He didn’t look like the winner as he high-tailed it through the arena… But! Wish did leave with the X-Treme title against Black Rainbow’s leader… The question remains: will he escape tonight facing another Black Rainbow member?

Tommy nods his head to the beat, and he gives some fans some dap as he walks down to the ramp, then he slides into the ring, and gets on the turnbuckle and poses to the crowd with the stick in the air. Then he comes down from there, and sits on the corner as his theme fades off.



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.

TODD: There she is! The Mastermind of #VilaroFit, Marisol Vilaro!

BAMA: Mari’s been dominant on Anarchy, but for the first time at Ides of March, we saw her at her full potential! She wrecked the King of the XWF, Kieran King, bay-bay!

TODD: The Black Rainbow is as mysterious as it is dangerous, Bama! We don’t know what brought Yelena Gorgo, Sarah Wolf, and Marisol Vilaro together… But we do know they made their presence known last Warfare… And Vilaro has the opportunity to take back the X-Treme title tonight in the name of the Black Rainbow!

BAMA: And #VilaroFit!

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.

TODD: …This entrance is still the longest of the XWF’s roster…

BAMA: You just try to find one second to cut, Toddy! It’s all GOLD!

'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…

In the front row, in Mari’s corner… is a group of eight people wearing Pink T-shirts with Black Circles! They hold signs declaring UNITY BY VILAROFIT! They seem to be led by tall, lithe blonde woman, The Advocate… wielding a black bottle made from some deviled void metal and riddled with purple veins.

TODD: Bama, who the Hell are those people?

BAMA: Not sure, Toddy! But they seem proud to represent the future of #VilaroFit and her latest innovation: UNITY!

TODD: …Anyway! Now, that they’re both in the ring, we’re about to get started! And leave it to Bashmaster to set up a match to suit these competitors!

BAMA: You ain’ foolin’, Toddy! The ring looks like a dang ol’ Planet Fitness!

Indeed, the ring is full of workout equipment! A benchpress in the neutral corner. Dumbbell racks next to the ropes. Two treadmills on opposite ends outside the ring!

Marisol is checking the equipment, making sure it’s properly calibrated to suit her workout…

TODD: Bashy may have picked this extra X-Treme stipulation to add a little flavor to this match, but one could argue he gave an advantage to Marisol! The gym is her temple! She knows every bit of equipment in that ring!

BAMA: Meanwhile, Tommy, 5’11” and 320 pounds… is looking at the treadmill like it’s from dang ol’ Star Trek!

Indeed, across from Mari, Tommy rotates the kendo stick around his arm… Eager to start swinging!

The official gets between the competitors, raising the X-Treme title… Before signalling to the timekeeper!

DING DING!





X-TREME CHAMPIONSHIP

MARISOL VILARO
- vs -
TOMMY WISH

X-TREME RULES: #VILAROFIT EDITION





Tommy charges toward Mari with the kendo stick…

But Mari dodge-rolls under Tommy’s strike! Tommy’s stick rebounds against the turnbuckle!

TODD: Doesn’t look like these two are going to be starting with any catch-as-catch-can style, huh, Bama?

BAMA: Hell to the no, Toddy! This one’s gonna be a war from start to finish!

Mari glides across the ring with catlike grace, dropping into a crouch by the side of the ring… next to the dumbbell rack!

Tommy spins around, looking to continue his kendo assau-

WHAM! Mari catches him as he spins, swinging a 10-pound dumbbell like a hammer into Wish’s ribs!

The steel thuds against his side, the crowd ooooohs…

TODD: Vicious first strike by Vilaro!




Tommy’s face contorts—eyes squeezed shut, as the wind leaves his lungs in a grunt. He doubles over, leaning on the kendo stick to remain upright…

…Mari smiles insidiously, setting the dumbbell back on the rack, as she reaches down, grabbing a handful of Tommy’s hair, pulling up to his feet… and dragging him to the side of the ring…

She quickly wraps him in a front-facelock… aaaaaaaand…

SNAP SUPLEX ONTOP OF THE DUMBBELL RACK! WEIGHTS SCATTER UNDER THE ROPES AS WISH’S SPINE BENDS UNNATURALLY ON STEEL! Tommy’s limbs sprawl in four separate directions, dropping the kendo stick!

TODD: Wow! This truly is Mari’s domain! She’s used every one of these tools to build the ultimate body… AND she knows how to use these tools like WEAPONS!

Out by the front-row, led by the Advocate, the UNITY by #VilaroFit fans start chanting!

Better Bodies!
Stronger Mind!
Marisol Guides!
Leave Doubt Behind!

TODD: …Creepy.

BAMA: What’s creepy about it, Toddy? They’re just showing their support for their girl, Mari!

Wish lets out a pained groan, flopping to his side, back arched as he tries to reach behind him, rubbing his aching back.

Mari tries to crawl into a cover…

But, the twelve-year XWF vet, Tommy Wish, rolls away! Slipping under the bottom rope!

TODD: Great wherewithal by Tommy Wish! He doesn’t ever get called a Ring General, but he’s been around long enough to have picked up a trick or two!

Tommy rolls to the outside, crawling to create distance between himself and Vilaro…

Unfortunately, he’s crawling slower than the active treadmill he’s found himself atop…

JC: This might be the first time an XWF match has taken place on an automated walkway!

BAMA: This might also be the first time Tommy Wish has been on a treadmill!

Wish beckons at Mari to bring it on…

Vilaro, instead… presses a button on the treadmill’s handles…

Suddenly, the tread direction flips! Wish loses his balance, stumbling onto one knee

And Vilaro pounces, taking her boot, and driving Wish’s face into the tread! A second time! A third time!

The Unity member starts another chant!

No Time For Wish!
He Can't Compete!
Marisol Reigns!
Embrace Your Defeat!

TODD: It’s like if the Children of the Corn did nursery rhymes…

Vilaro keeps stomping Tommy’s face into the tread…

WHAP! In desperation, Tommy throws an elbow back-and-upwards, catching Vilaro in the face!

TODD: First strike of the match for the reigning X-Treme champion!

Mari stutter-steps off the treadmill, toward the ringpost, cradling her face… Like she’s shocked this worm DARED to strike her perfectly symmetrical face…

Tommy, meanwhile, finally crawls off the treadmill… As he finds outside the ring… a set of barbells!

…Tommy grins, as an idea forms…

TODD: Something about the X-Treme title brings out competitor’s sadistic tendencies! The twisted gears are turning in Tommy’s mind![/blue

Marisol shoves herself away from the ringpost, done messing around! She turns the corner to pursue Tommy…

Just as Tommy finishes raising a barbell…

Before hucking it like a discus!

[blue]TODD: Incredible form by Wish! It’s got the distance!

BAMA: But will it hit its target?!?

The dumbbell flies through the air…

Sailing towards Vilaro’s shocked face!

…

……

MISS!

Vilaro, entirely running on the survival instinct to not get decapitated by a flying weight throwing herself to the mat, narrowly dodging the iron slab…

CLANG! The barbell plate SLAMS into the ring post!

TODD: Phew! If Mari had a moment less reaction time, she might have to invent a new fitness system that doesn’t require the use of a head!

Tommy rolls back in the ring… Vilaro, furious this fool almost killed her, is in hot pursuit!

Tommy crawls across the ring… Reaching for something…

But the quicker Vilaro quickly closes the gap, grabbing the X-Treme champ by the leg… And flipping him around…

Revealing Tommy’s got his Kendo Stick back!

TODD: Finally, it looks like Tommy’s got his weapon of choice!

Mari’s eyes widen! She tries to dive backw-

CRACK! A kendo stick shot straight to the face!

Vilaro covers her face, breaking into a run to get aw-

CRACK! CRACK! Wish catches Mari with two rapid kendo strikes across her back. Vilaro’s body seizes, as she collapses onto her knees!

…Wish rotates the Kendo Stick in place… Before lifting it high!

Aaaaaand

KERACK! The stick breaks on the finishing blow, straight over Mari’s head!

TODD: Wish wields that kendo stick like a samurai! Could he, for the third time in a row, keep the Black Rainbow from the X-Treme title?!?

…Vilaro, face covered in splinters from the broken kendo stick, collapses onto her back…

Wish breathes heavily, as he falls to one knee, crawling into a cover!

The official counts!

ONE!

TWO!

THRE-NO! Vilaro somehow does a perfect crunch, lifting her shoulders off the mat!

TODD: Wow! That’s Vilaro’s conditioning for you! She takes a licking and she keeps on ticking!

As Vilaro lies on her back, catching her breath, Tommy pushes himself off the mat… He glances around and spots a kettlebell.

Once more, a cruel grin spreads across his lips.

…Vilaro rubs her skull, still aching from that last kendo stick shot… Before opening her eyes…

And seeing Tommy standing over her, kettlebell over his head!

Vilaro gasps!

TODD: Oh my God! Tommy’s gone mental!!!

Tommy goes to sw-

In one swoop, from her prone position on the mat…

Mari’s boot lifts!

STRAIGHT INTO WISH’S CROTCH!

TODD: Right in the Wish family jewels! If this were a different match, that’d be an instant disqualification!

BAMA: But it’s X-Treme Rules, bay-bay! And X-Treme Rules is No Rules, anything goes!

Tommy’s jaw drops. His eyes cross. The kettlebell slips from his hands…

STRAIGHT DOWN ON HIS FOOT!

…Wish’s face seizes in agony, as he collapses onto his back, cradling his aching foot!

BAMA: I just got the weirdest deja vu for an ol’ episode of Tom and Jerry…

Marisol pulls herself up by the ropes… She winces in pain, but the adrenaline sharpens her focus.

…Tommy shoves the weight off his foot…

Just as Mari shoves herself off the ropes!

She does a textbook handspring! Corkscrews in midair!

And drives her elbow STRAIGHT into Tommy’s SKULL!

TODD: Beautiful technique by Marisol Vilaro!

Tommy gets knocked across the ring! His skull SLAMS head-first into the steel bench press in the ring’s corner…

TODD: Wish is on the bench! I’ve received word that the weighted barbell on the bench press is the heaviest thing in that ring!

BAMA: Don’t worry about Wish, Toddy! It looks like Mari’s doing the kind thing and acting as his spotter…

Indeed, Wish… lying back on the bench press… chest heaving… can’t move… As Vilaro stands over him… Lifting the weight off the bar…

Marisol Vilaro, holding a massive weight over Tommy’s throat, soaks in this moment.

The Unity by #VilaroFit fans start another chant, as the Advocate commands them!

Vilaro! Vilaro!
Strong And True!
Forget Your Wish!
She'll Finish You!

Mari grins, revelling in the worship of her flock…

But this gives Tommy a moment…

From the bench, he reaches up… And slams his fist into Vilaro’s right abdomen!

Vilaro winces, tilting to one side…

As she loses her grip on the bar, it clatters to the mat, catching her in the leg!

BAMA: Live by the bench, die by the bench!

TODD: But, can Tommy take adv-

BAMA: Wait, wait, I have another! Looks like Vilaro skipped Leg Day!

Vilaro screams, falling to her side, clutching her leg as the metal rolls away. Her face twists in anguish—then fury.

Tommy pulls himself upright against the bench, frenzied. He grabs Vilaro’s skull, pulls it between his legs…

PILEDRIVER ONTO THE BENCH!

The bench snaps in half under their combined weight!

TODD: Holy SHIT!

The crowd… minus the Unity by #VilaroFit cult… echo Todd’s sentiment

HOLY SHIT
HOLY SHIT
HOLY SHIT

Vilaro is laying in a crumpled heap under the crushed bench…

Tommy beside her… stirs first…

He crawls arm-over-arm…

TODD: Unbelievable! Can Tommy pull this off?!?

Tommy… craaaaawls…

And lays an arm over Mari!

The official counts!

ONE!

TWO!

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

At the last possible moment, Marisol Vilaro kicks out!

TODD: Oh my GOD! How deep did Vilaro have to reach to kick out of that one!

…Mari and Wish both lie in the center of the ring…

…When the Advocate begins pointing and directing traffic!

Suddenly, the Unity by #VilaroFit eightsome all hop over the barricade!

TODD: Oh my! It looks like Vilaro’s fans are taking it upon themselves to help Mari out!

BAMA: I don’t think Tommy’s pals, The THUGs, will tolerate that, Toddy!

Indeed, as the #VilaroFit fanatics swarm the outside of the ring like lumberjacks…

From the back, John Black and Reggie Estrada storm down the ramp… JB has a baseball bat, Reggie’s got a steel chair!

The Unity by #VilaroFit crew stand to block the THUGs from coming down the ramp…

Back in the ring, Tommy starts to stir first, as Mari cradles her aching skul..

Tommy beckons Mari to stand, setting up for a HideYaFace…

…But, The Advocate, the blonde that led the Unity by #VilaroFit crew all night, has leapt onto the apron, with her black bottle!

BAMA: Watch out, Tommy! It’s probably some sorta protein shake!

The Advocate sips from the bottle…

Just as Tommy clasps Mari’s hair dragging her to her feet…

Tommy clinches Mari’s neck! HIDEYAF-

NO!

When Tommy turns to stun Mari, Mari shoves Tommy…

Toward the Advocate on the apron!

When Tommy gets close…

With a distinct, almost sickening 'thwip' sound of pressurized liquid, The Advocate forcefully ejects a stream of thick, dark, tar-like venom from her lips!

TODD: What the HELL is that?!?

BAMA: …Is that what was in that bottle?!?

The viscous, blackish glob arcs with surprising accuracy, striking Wish straight in the eyes.

Wish first cries out in shock and agony…

…When suddenly, his legs seem to jellify…

Wish rapidly blinks, lost and confused…

Outside the ring, the THUGs battle through the pack of frenzied Vilaro fans to rescue him…

They’ve taken out a couple…

But the remaining are upon them, kicking, biting and punching the THUGs like feral animals!

TODD: Things have gone from bad to worse for Wish…

Wish frantically pawing at his face… as if its presence is somehow wrong…

Suddenly Vilaro spins him around!

VILAROIZE FISHERMAN SUPLEX!

Vilaro hooks Wish’s leg!

The Advocate barks at the official to count!

1!

2!

THREE!

WINNER AND NEW X-TREME CHAMPION: MARISOL VILARO!


TODD: Holy cow! What a fight! What a war! There were moments… There were big, undeniable moments! Where it looked like Tommy Wish was going to shock the world for the third time and find a way to get the better of Black Rainbow!

BAMA: But Marisol Vilaro was just too good, Toddrick! She had the tools! She had the talent!

TODD: And she had an army of dedicated cultists at her beck and call… And this mysterious advocate, who spat… SOMETHING into Tommy’s eyes!

BAMA: That too!



The scene resumes and the entrance ramp is now draped in a shimmering gold carpet. There is a Spanish flamenco band playing music on stage next to the ramp. The ring is filled with beautiful women dressed in burlesque, fanning themselves with orante abanicos. The fans look like they are having the time of their lives, dancing along to the music and clapping. The spanish band begins to slowly stop playing… and then…

BOOM!!!!!

A custom version of “RIOT MAKER” by Tech N9ne begins to play throughout the arena speakers. The crowd gets louder as James Shark’s cocky grin can be seen across every screen in the building as he makes his way to the ring from the backstage area.

“This one right here's for the riot makers
The trash talkers, the monsters, the home-wreckers
We gon' start this shit off right
We got JAMES SHARK in the house tonight
We gon' start this shit off right (off right)
We got JAMES SHARK in the house tonight (come on)”

Shark is wearing a Sergio Ramos Spain soccer jersey along with layered diamond chains hanging around his neck. The XWF Universal Championship lazily slung over one shoulder. Two U.S Marshals could be seen walking behind him. Then just as the music kicks in, he makes his way out of the curtains and immediately red and gold pyro shoot off at the same time, reflecting the colors of Spain.

“I don't know why they be pumpin', it's somethin'
Maybe in the music when it be bumpin'
It's crunk and it's hella haterific (haterific)
Throw your set up in the air is all the DJs really wanna play
When the match is over, it's lookin' bloody and Satanistic (Satanistic)
Killas from everywhere don’t want to face me
I carry the show, some get nervous when I wreck arenas (wreck arenas)”

The center stage is filled with smoke. The flashing light from his ankle monitor is the only thing that can be clearly seen through the smoke however as the smoke starts to clear, Shark’s figure could be seen as he is lifting up the XWF Universal Championship in the air. The camera starts to zoom onto his nameplate on the title then slowly pans out as his smirk has only grown larger. He places the Championship back onto his shoulder as he begins to confidently walk down the golden ramp. The U.S Marshals stay behind but watch from a distance.

“Wrestling promoters in Honolulu don't wanna see me
'Cause they said that Somoans will riot when they lose their ninas
'Cause I'm a riot maker, that's if you don't know
I'm a riot maker, they know it’s my show
I'm a riot maker, and I come out bustin'
I'm a riot maker, riot maker, I don't give a damn about nothin'
Hop in my ring, f'sho
You push, you shove, you get elbowed”

Shark enters the ring and bites down on his lower lip, checking out the beautiful women in the ring. Thousands of gold and crimson balloons fall from the ceiling. The women dance for him, fan him, touch him, everything going on right now was so extravagant, chaotic… so James Shark.

He gets to the center of the ring and holds the Championship up in the air once more, the women now surrounding him as they put their hands all over his body.

“Back on, 'cause this for Fat Tone and Mac Dre
All of the soldiers who got gone on that day
All my people sittin' in prison, this is for you
So won't you listen to the shit that I'm spittin'?
Fuck the law and the government they'll hymn your ass up
They'll do everything in their power to get a fast buck
No right or wrongs, just killer bees out for your honeycomb
But you'll find out, when you bind out
You can be free if your money long
Ever been to one of my shows? Yeah, it might be crazy”

Shark can be seen mouthing the words out to the lyrics before his song starts to fade out. One of the women have a microphone and hand it to him. He takes it and shouts into it, continuing to hype up the crowd.

“BAAADAAAALONNAAAA SPAINNNNN, goddamn. Y’all are amazing. Aside from Brooklyn, I couldn’t think of a better crowd to invite to MY CELEBRATION.”

Shark nods his head smiling, walking around the ring like he owns it. The women in the ring continue fanning and touching him whenever he is close enough.

“Not too long ago, Ada-BLEH-mi came out to the ring and held onto this very same Championship. A hundred names came out of his mouth but not one of them was mine. At first I was like damn, No matter how much success I achieve, no matter how many belts I collect…. I’m still overlooked. Throughout my whole career it’s always been that way. But then I thought… no these motherfuckers aren’t overlooking me. They’re looking RIGHT at me. They know the threat that’s before them, they just hope it’ll pass them by. That’s what it is. I don’t like to use the word ‘fear’ in this business because we put our lives on the line everyday. It’s hard to believe one of us wrestlers would actually fear each other but Spain…my colleagues fear me. They all do. They fear me because losing to a guy like me sucks. My bald ass head will kick them while they down. I talk way too much shit.”

“Nice little group win on Warfare Isaiah but I heard the tag Champions might be out of action for a while due to all the back pain they have after carrying you to victory. A participation trophy is what that was for you. Realize that your kingdom will always be right here underneath the bottom of my fuckin’ shoe.”

Shark smirks and looks off to the crowd and winks. 

“See what I mean? But look. There’s one person that sees the threat and not only stands right there waiting for it to hit em but invites it with open arms. One person that just mentions my name religiously, y’all know who that is?”

Shark looks out into the crowd. Some fans can be heard yelling out Charlie Nickles. It’s obvious Shark is about to respond to his recent call-out from Warfare. Shark points at one of them and nods.

“Yea, the Nickleman himself, Charlie Nickles.”

Shark then turns away and looks right into the camera as if he is looking at Charlie.

“I’m glad you found your suit again, last time I saw you wearing it you held a press conference against me and ended up with a stomach full of every word I made you eat.”

“Did I mention how much I hate you, Charlie? Fucking christ. I hate this man, y’all. Like I respect the violence he brings to the table and the five star wars his matches become but MAAAAAN, he really, really annoys the hell out me.”

“Let’s get ONE thing clear here. I don’t EVER go looking for Charlie Nickles but Charlie Nickles ALWAYS goes lookin’ for me. But he doesn’t have to look far does he? All he has to do is look up because that’s where I am every single time. All he wants to ever do is latch onto my success, the success he claims he gave me.”

Shark scratches his head in frustration before shaking it.

“Ahhhh man… Listen to me very carefully you stupid moron, the ONLY thing you’ve GIVEN me is a never ending headache every time you come out here and say my name.”

“So what????? You have ONE MORE in you? You want ME to face you? James Shark vs Charlie Nickles 3????”

The fans erupt in cheers, the camera pans around the entire arena as the fans look very excited. That excitement quickly gets cut down however as Shark shuts it down immediately.

“The answer is NO. Go fuck yourself.”

The fans begin to boo loudly but Shark quickly turns that around as well.

“Nah, nah, nah, HEAR ME OUT. There’s only ONE person in this company that I lost to so far that I ain’t beaten and that’s Adam Garcia.”

And just like that, Shark has the fans cheering loudly again as he mentions their countryman. Shark nods his head and waves his finger.

“That’s right. I’m gonna get that one back one day. Might even have the rematch in Spain. Even without that match I can think of many other people more deserving of the next shot.

"My future baby momma AURORA put that man in the dirt already. She's got a Championship I lost that I'd love to get back."

"Me and Mayonnaise Dyson been yappin' at one another since I stepped foot in this company. Maybe I finally strangle her with the Universal Championship on the line then find a tag partner and steal her Tag title."

"What about Kieran King? I already killed two kings already might as well go for the one that's actually deserved to call himself that."

"Do y'all see this??? Y’all gotta understand I ain’t here for a long time. I been down this road already. The mission should have stopped at Seb but then he didn’t have the strap so we made our way to Isaiah’s bitch ass. Somehow we still goin so we only takin’ the best matches possible from here on out. We only takin’ matches where I got something to gain.”

“Charlie Nickles, all you want to do is fucking take, but what do you have to give me? The chance to retire? You could wrestle your last match against one of the strippers behind me for all I care. What do I have to GAIN?”

“When I faced you the first time you had the Xtreme Championship. When I faced you the second time you were looking impressive and on the rise again. Now what? Now all you have is a stupid bullet you bought from pintrest with our names engraved onto it. Really? Ah… hell nah.”

Shark starts to raise his voice, pointing at the camera.

“Take that bullet and swallow it, swallow it along with my name in your mouth and any other ideas you got relating to me. I don’t give a damn about no beef or no trilogy with you. We’ll chalk it up at one-one, but make no mistake here, the record books will say we are even but everybody including yourself knows what it is… we are NOT equals. The last dub you got was nothing more than me being overconfident - overconfident because I disregarded you and focused on Jolee, overconfident because I walked into a company that you terrorized for four years and slapped the dog shit outta you in my second match under your rules and stipulations.”

“Now It’s MY rules - MY stipulations. I call the shots. This Universal Championship means I’m the pinnacle. Warfare, Anarchy, XWF as a whole and all our motherfuckin’ affiliates revolve around JAMES SHARK. So listen closely…. That one match you think you got left? Better make it count. Wow me. Impress the Champion. Call me out afterwards on your hands and knees. Beg me.”

“You crashed and burned at Ides of March while I shot to the very top of this company. James Shark ain’t your lifeline nor your ticket to the big show. Not no more.”

“You want this?”

Shark slaps the centerpiece of the Universal Championship repeatedly.

“You’re a big boy, you can climb back up.”

He tosses the microphone onto the canvas. Flamenco music kicks in again from the Spanish band. The women begin to spin, twirl and dance. Shark smirks and takes a few steps back, disappearing into the group of women as the party continues in the ring and the scene fades to black.



TODD: Welcome back friends! You’re joining us just in time for the main event of the evening, and what a classic this should be!

BAMA: A rematch of the Bashmaster Classic semi-finals, baby! A matchup so nice they had to book it twice!

TODD: Indeed, tonight we see the first ever Anarchy Tag Team Champions, one of the most prolific teams in recent memory, Roger and ‘Cavort’ Jake Borden, defending their gold against The LEgendary No Good Bastards!

And now we commence one of the strangest entrance segments ever. Jake Borden is already in the ring, wearing one half of the tag team titles around his waist. He waves to the crowd and begins stretching as..




The entirely epic XTron video of TNGB takes over the arena as the lights dim. A spotlight highlights the ramp, and Thunder Knuckles walks out onto the entrance ramp, hyped and ready to fight, pointing out into the crowd. Behind him, Bobby Bourbon deliberately walks out and stops, also pointing out into the crowd. Both men glance at each other and return their attention to the ring, delivering a no-look fistbump, then in unison point into the ring. The crowd sings along with the song.

*ASSHOLE, DIRTBAG, NO GOOD BASTARDS!*stomp stomp*

TK slides into the ring and gets up onto a knee, beckoning the crowd as Bobby climbs the steps and enters the ring behind him. TK stands and appeals to the crowd as Bobby raises his arms at 45-degree angles.

Jake gulps, but then smiles as




Roger is a brave and heroic now. No longer getting spooked when the sparkly sparklers go off behind him while I have a walk to the ring. Holding the other half of the tag team championships in the air. He switches arms when one arm gets tired. He steps through the ropes and greets Borden with a kiss on the cheek as the two raise their belts in stereo now.






TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP

”CAVORTIN” JAKE BORDEN & ROGER ©
- vs -
THEM NO GOOD BASTARDS
THUNDER KNUCKLES & BOBBY BOURBON


TODD: The bell rings, and we’re underway!

TK and Borden start off first, they circle each other slowly before TK tempts Borden with a handlock. He’s got his hand out, wiggling his fingers and gesturing to Borden with his head to take him on in a test of strength.

Borden looks incredulous, and turns back to Roger who gives him the go-ahead.

Borden reaches up and locks hands with TK - - -WHO DISHONORS THE AGREEMENT IMMEDIATELY.

A STIFF KNEE TO BORDEN’S MID-SECTION!

Broden doubles over and TK drops im with a quick DDT, drawing loud boos from the crowd

TODD: Well, a bastardly deed right away from Ol’ Thunder Knuckles!

BAMA: Teekay baby aint taking no chances with Jakey tonight! He remembers full well the last time these two teams squared up. He knows Bordens got that heart of gold, and that never say die mentality.

TK gives Borden no time to contemplate a recovery. He locks in a quick, and precise sharpshooter, applying devastating pressure to Borden’s back.

Borden cries out from the middle of the ring, and reaches for the ropes that are a mile away. But TK has the hold locked in good. Borden tries to muster all of his strength, crawling on his forearms, but TK just walks him back to the center of the ring and reapplies the move. Again Borden has to use all of his power to get up on his arms and begin crawling, and AGAIN, TK just pulls him back and reapplies the maneuver. BUT THIRD TIMES THE CHARM! This time, after Broden crawls, and TK pulls him back, Borden gets the chance to flips his weight. He rolls TK over face first, and struggling now he - - - HAS TK LOCKED IN A SHARP SHOOTER OF HIS OWN!!!

TODD: What a counter by Jake Borden! I didn’t know he had that in him!!!

BAMA: I don’t think HE knew it baby!

TODD: Crafty break there from the 70’s wrestling time-traveler, but it’s clear all that time spent in TKs sharpshooter has taken a toll

JAke winces trying to lock TK’s legs in properly, but has to grab for his lower back as he wrenches TK, and breaks the move falling down a bit.

TK struggles for a moment, but gets to his feet pretty quickly. TK hits the ropes, and goes for a shoulder block!

BUT BORDEN FALLS FLAT TO DODGE!

TK leaps over Borden’s intentional dive, and hits the next set of ropes, but Borden is waiting with a standing dropkick!

TK hits the mat and pops back up, only to catch a forearm smash from Borden. Jake’s eyes are wide as TK staggers back - - - AND DIVES ON HIM WITH A LOU THEZ PRESS!!!

The crowd in Spain is going wild, as Borden takes his chance to tag in Roger! But he also gave TK the time to crawl over to Bobby Bourbon!

And now the two fresh wrestlers hit the ring. Roger is shifting up and back, bobbing and weaving ready to dodge anything!


- - - - -EXCEPT FOR BOBBY’S HUGE CLOTHESLINE!!!

Roger flips in the air and hits the mat, and has no time to breath - - -AS BOBBY SMASHES HIM WITH A SENTON SPLASH!

Bobby picks Roger up and promptly throws him into the ropes! Roger rebounds and is colliding with a - - - BIG BOOT FROM BOBBY - - -


- - - -BUT ROGER STOPS IT?!?!?! - - -

He counters the big boot by letting the back of Bobby’s leg land on shoulder and then pushes the big man down to the mat, still holding his leg and- - - LOCKS HIM INTO A SHARPSHOOTER?!

TODD: Ok, what in the hell is going on here???

BAMA: WE’ve got us some sharp shooters in this match, hotty toddy!

Roger sits down on Bobby’s lower back - - - for all of two seconds before he’s kicked off from the submission hold. Bobby rises to his feet, scowling. He grapples at Roger, who ducks, and shifts diagonally before landing a wild looking kick that connects flush with Bobby’s temple.

Bobby is swaying, out on his feet. Roger grabs his arm, and waves to the crowd. He puts his boot under Bobby’s chin, holding onto the arm he intentionally falls, pulling Bobby into a - - - COUNTER!!!


BOBBY PUSHES ROGER DOWN ON HIS BACK, AND HAS A HOLD OF IS LEG NOW AND - - -


TODD: ….


- - - SHARPSHOOTER!!!

Bobby easily turns Roger over, and as a seat on his back. He wrenches back. Rogers tiny legs struggling to stay wrapped around Bobby’s thighs. It doesn’t matter anyway, Roger is right near the ropes and with a bit a effort, and through a murderous scream he reaches out and grabs the ropes forcing a break drawing an applause from Borden.

Bobby takes the full count from the ref before breaking the hold. He stands defiantly and picks Roger up by the back of his pants. He throws Roger into the ropes again and hits a huge pop-up spinebuster!

Bobby hooks the leg!


1!



2!!



KICKOUT!!!


Roger shows tremendous girt, and fights Bobby with some fists even as Bourbon pulls him up from the mat. Bobby eats the punches and lifts Roger up into a torture rack soman drop!


He immediately pins Roger again!!!!



1!



2!!




KICK OUT AGAIN !!!

Bobby looks flustered, only for a moment though. Again his picks Roger up and - - -


SHORYUKEN!!!


The roundhouse uppercut sends Roger lifted into the air, - - - CATCHES HIM ON THE WAY DOWN WITH A FALLING SPINEBUSTER!


BOBBY COVERS!

TODD: THIS IS IT! NEW CHAMPS

1!


TODD: NEW CHAMPS!!


2!!



TODD: NEW- – - - !!


Borden dives into Bobby from the top rope!!! BREAKING THE FALL!!!


But TK has already hit the ring. Before any jubilation can settle in, TK partially has Borden in a position as if his own shirt were wrapped over his head, pummeling him with clubbing blows in the back of the neck and spine.

TK hits Roger with a full nelson slam, and the tag champ rolls out of the ring. TK insists on Bobby to rally. He steps through the ropes as Bobby grabs the unconscious Roger up and walks him over to their corner. She shoves Roger into the pads and makes the tag.

He tags TK and then hits a backbreaker on Roger holding him over his knee while - - - TK hits a diving knee from the top rope to Roger’s skull!


TK COVERS!



1!




2!!


BORDEN IS ONLY NOW GETTING TO HIS FEET



KICKOUT AGAIN!!!


TODD: Roger is one of the most resilient wrestlers I’ve ever seen, Bama!

BAMA: I can’t tell if he’s resilient or just too stupid to stay down!

TODD: Don’t be ridiculous! This man is our Anarchy Tag Team Champ for a reason! The heart of Roger and Borden cannot and will not be denied, but will it be enough to put away The Bastards tonight?

TK is in shock. He picks Roger up and grapples - - - BUT IS ROLLED UP!



SCHOOLBOY OUTTA NOWHERE FROM ROGER!!!!



1!


2!!







BARELY A KICKOUT!!!


TODD: WHOA!!!!! ROGER NEARLY WON THE MATCH RIGHT THERE!

TK is back to his feet, and pissed. He stomps over at Roger who is -  -  - accidentally drop-toe holding TK. Roger stands up and skids over to his corner where he tags Borden!

Borden hits the ring and immediately raises his dukes. Only to kick TK in the shin just as he approaches.

TODD: Borden’s back in the ring, and you can see the fire in his eyes! A kick to the shin, and he’s already up for more!

BAMA T: Borden’s showing some serious grit here, baby! And he knows how to get under TK’s skin!

TODD: I can feel the tension here, Bama! This match is on fire! Borden charges at TK - - -AND GETS MET WITH A HUGE SHOULDER TACKLE FROM TK!

TK picks Borden back up and throws him into the ropes with power, but Borden rebounds with a leaping forearm smash, sending TK staggering!

Borden hits the ropes again, and as TK tries to swing at him, Borden ducks, running straight into an axehandle smash to TK’s head!

BAMA: Borden’s showing off that tenacity! But I gotta give it to TK, he’s not going down easy, even after all that!

Borden rushes at TK- - - BUT TK DROPS HIMS WITH A HUGE POWERSLAM!

The impact shakes the ring, and TK stands tall, yelling at the crowd, calling for the end.

TODD: What power from TK! He just slammed Jake Borden like a ragdoll!

BAMA: And it’s not over yet! Here comes the finish. Watch this, Todd. TK’s pulling him upbut wait! Roger’s back on the apron, slapping the turnbuckle, trying to rally Jake!

BUT ITS TOO LATE!!!


TK hooks Borden for a - - - THUNDER STRIKE DDT!!!!  - - - bBUT BORDEN’S LEG SLIPS FREE!

[blue]TODD: Incredible escape by Jake Borden! He’s got eyes in the back of his head!

Borden rolls to his feet and charges again, catching TK off-guard with a spinning wheel kick!

He goes for a quick cover!


1!


2!!


KICKOUT WITH AUTHORITY!

TODD: Borden nearly had him! What a close call!

BAMA T: The pressure’s on, baby! But Teekay ain’t staying down that easily!

Borden pulls TK up, but before he can do anything, Bobby Bourbon enters the ring, charging and slamming a shoulder into Borden’s midsection!

He immediately starts delivering heavy shots to Jake’s back, each one more brutal than the last.

Borden tries to fight back with an elbow to Bobby’s face, but Bobby clubs him with a brutal forearm! Bourbon lifts TK up and absorbs a scolding from the ref as he steps back onto the apron. TK follows after him and tags his partner back into the match.

TODD: Oh no, this is bad news for Jake Borden! Bourbon’s in the ring now, and he’s laying it on thick!


As Bobby lifts Jake for a suplex, Borden slips behind him and - - -  ROLLS HIM UP WITH A SCHOOLBOY PIN OF HIS OWN!

1!



2!!



BOBBY KICKS OUT!

Borden starts crawling for his corner as Bobby Bourbon scrambles after him.

TK charges to intercept, but Borden ducks under his clothesline, and makes the hot tag to Roger  - - - WITH FULL FORCE!

The crowd explodes as Roger hits the ring like a whirlwind, splashing Bobby with a running dropkick, sending him into the corner!

Roger follows it up with a series of chops to Bourbon’s chest, each one getting a louder WOOOOO! from the fans.

TODD: Roger’s back in, and he’s fired up! Look at the intensity!

BAMA: He’s channeling the fury of the fans right now, baby! Skidding in with those chops! Bourbon can’t keep up!

Roger hits the ropes and goes for a running forearm, but Bourbon ducks and catches Roger with a MASSIVE CLOTHESLINE

ROGER IS TURNED INSIDE OUT!

Bourbon drops down for the cover!

1!





2!!






ROGER KICKS OUT!


TODD: AGAIN - Just barely, but Roger’s still alive! He’s been through hell, but he’s still kicking!

BAMA: That’s what I like to see! Roger’s resilience is what got them the Tag Titles in the first place! But Bobby baby aint letting up!

Bobby lifts Roger up and whips him into the ropes, catching him on the rebound with a backbreaker! He rolls over for another pin!

1!






2!!









Roger kicks out!




TODD: Another kickout from Roger! This guy won’t quit! B you’ve got to feel that if he keeps getting hit like this, he may not be able to kick out of many more!

Bobby Bourbon tags in TK, who enters the ring and immediately lifts Roger for a vertical suplex, but Roger fights out and lands on his feet behind TK!

He pushes him toward the corner, but TK counters with a back elbow, knocking Roger back!

TODD: Them Bastards are still in control! This match is starting to feel like it’s slipping away from the champions!


Roger, stumbling, from the elbow falls backward and tags Borden back into the match, and the crowd roars as Borden hits the ring - - - FULL FORCE!

He nails TK with a forearm, then ducks an interfering Bobby’s clothesline, hitting him with a swinging neckbreaker! He leaps onto the turnbuckle. Bobby rolls out of the ring, and as TK stands…


- - - - DIVING DOUBLE AXEHANDLE!!!


Borden scrambles for the cover!

1!






2!!







Bobby breaks it up just in time!!!



TODD: What a chaotic sequence! Borden’s got the energy, but TK and Bourbon are like a wall right now!

BAMA: And that wall ain’t going down easy! They’ve been here before, The Bastards are one of the most decorated Tag Teams in professional wrestling history for a reason!

Borden tries to get back to his feet, but TK and Bourbon both charge him.

TK lifts Borden for a pop-up powerbomb, but Borden flips out mid-air, landing on his feet! He sprints toward the ropes, springboarding back at both men with a flying forearm that knocks them both down!

TODD: Incredible athleticism from Borden! He’s going FULL FORCE now!

Borden drags TK to the center of the ring and locks him into a Boston Crab!

TK tries to crawl but Bobby breaks it up with a running elbow drop to Borden’s back! Giving TK all of the room he needs to grab the ropes to force the break.

TODD: And just like that, Borden’s submission is broken! What a back and forth!

BAMA: These two teams are making our entire Anarchy brand proud right now. The stakes couldn’t be higher with the gold on the line, baby! WHAT A MAIN EVENT!

But Borden’s not done yet.

He tags in Roger once more, and….

TODD: OH MY GOD!!!!

THEY DOUBLE TEAM TK - - - BORDEN LIFTING HIM WITH AUTHORITY AND HITTING THE MOST TECHNICALLY PROFICIENT BACKBREAKER THE WORLD HAS EVER SEEN!

ROGER LEAPS OFF WITH A DIVING KNEE DROP

BAMA: THEY’RE STEALING TK AND BOBBY’S LUNCH MONEY!



BUT ROGER MISSES THE KNEE DROP!



AND BOBBY FROM BEHIND!

He charges the ring corner and crushes Borden with a big splash!


Roger ducks out of the way as Borden folds to the mat. Bobby is escorted out of the ring again… but with no time to waste, Roger has TK by the legs…



- - - - ANOTHER SHARPSHOOTER! AND THIS ONE IS LOCKED IN PERFECTLY!!!

TK is screaming out in pain as the tag champ has the hold locked in good. TK is doing everything he can to pull to the ropes, but Roger has found the perfect physics formula to keep TK locked in place. In fact! Roger is actually speaking the physics formula aloud. Assuring us all that it’s only a matter of moments now before TK is forced to tap, not like that dirty water full of sewer feces particles, but tap like the way he did in a dance contest one time when - - -


TK GOT THE ROPES!!!!

Roger breaks the hold, and observes Borden clapping for him. Roger starts clapping along in unison with his back turned to TK who’s crawled over to Bobby for the tag.


Roger turns back his eyes going wide - - - BOBBYBOMB


IS SKIDDED AROUND




ROGER THROWS HIS HEAD AT BOBBY!!!!!!!!!










BUT IT’S COUNTERED!!!!




BOURBON LIFTS ROGER UP INTO A VERTICAL SUPLEX AS TK CLIMBS THE ROPES!




Rainbow Laser Death Sequence!


TODD: RAINBOW LASER DEATH SEQUENCE!!!!

BOBBY COVERS ROGER!


1!





2!!


TK BLASTS BORDEN OFF OF THE APRON!





3!!!


WINNERS -and NEW Anarchy Tag Team Champions- THEM NO GOOD BASTARDS



TODD: NEW TAG CHAMPS!

BAMA: THEM NO GOOD BASTARDS HAVE DONE IT!


TK and Bobby are both laid out on the mat, exhausted, as Roger rolls out of the ring. The ref tries to help them up, but it’s no use. He lays the tag titles across their waists as the crowd roars with approval of the match


TODD: Say what you will, Bama, but this tag team match? It was one for the ages!

BAMA: Roger and Jake Borden, might’ve been Anarchy’s first tag champs, and they might now be the former champs, but this won't be their last time holding that gold. But tonight is the night that Them No Good Bastards take hold of the reins of the Anarchy Tag Team ranks!

We finally see Bobby and TK stand. They look at each other, then look at the titles and laugh before raging the belts in the air.

TODD: That’s all of the time we have for you tonight folks. The next time we see you, we’ll be joining our colleagues from Warfare in Coreytopia, Florida for Mayday 3!]]>