ANARCHY 10/17/2024 - Printable Version +- X-treme Wrestling Federation (https://xwf99.com) +-- Forum: Anarchy Boards (https://xwf99.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=118) +--- Forum: Anarchy Results (https://xwf99.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=121) +--- Thread: ANARCHY 10/17/2024 (/showthread.php?tid=48098)

ANARCHY 10/17/2024 - "The Bashmaster" Barry Masterson - 10-17-2024 10 - 17 - 2024 LIVE FROM THE CLIMATE PLEDGE ARENA SEATTLE, WASHINGTON Pyro erupts as the scene opens on the familiar faces of Todd and Bama T., seated at the commentary desk with the roaring crowd behind them, excited for what promises to be wild night of XWF Anarchy. The arena is bathed in flashing lights, the energy electric as the intro music fades out. Todd adjusts his headset, giving the camera a grin, while Bama cracks his knuckles, ready for the action to begin. Todd: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Thursday Night Anarchy! As always, I’m Todd, and next to me is my partner in chaos, Bama T.! We’ve got an absolutely stacked card tonight, don’t we, Bama? BAMA: Oh, baby, STACKED doesn’t even begin to describe it! We’re talkin’ wall-to-wall carnage, slammin’, bashin’, and crashin’! And don’t forget, Todd, this is the dawn of a NEW era in Anarchy! TODD: That’s right. For those of you living under a rock, former GM Jett Sterling has resigned, leaving us in the very capable- BAMA: -And very mysterious! TODD: Yes, very mysterious hands of our new General Manager, “The Bashmaster” Barry Masterson! BAMA: Except there’s one little problem, Todd- where the heck IS the guy? I mean, we’re three weeks into the “Bashmaster Era,” and the only thing we’ve seen are his emails! At least Jett Sterling showed up! TODD: Emails, Bama? Didn’t you say it was a carrier pigeon last week? BAMA: It might as well have been! The man is a ghost, Todd! A rumor! I’ve seen more of my ex-wife’s alimony payments! TODD: Okay, okay- let’s not air your dirty laundry on live television, Bama. BAMA: What I’m sayin’ is- who knows what this Bashmaster guy’s really about? We’ve heard the name, we’ve heard the promises of bashing, smashing, and crashing, but so far, nothing! TODD: Exactly. And tonight’s action-packed card is happening under his watch, whether he’s here or not. So let’s run down the mayhem, Bama. BAMA: Oh, baby, kickin’ things off we’ve got the “Welcome to Anarchy” Newcomers Brawl! Dominick Strife versus “Cavortin’” Jake Borden! And right after that, we’re diving straight into a Triple Threat match- Big Preesh takes on Latoya Hixx AND Marisol Vilaro! TODD: You know, it’s really something special seeing three competitors so different in style and strategy go head-to-head like this. And with the Bashmaster looking for standout talent, you know they’re going to bring their A-game. BAMA: If the Bashmaster’s even WATCHING, Todd! TODD: Good point. But moving on, Bama, we’ve got a big singles match next- Mastermind goes up against Summer Page! Mastermind, fresh off his historic Television Title win, is looking to prove it wasn’t a fluke. And Summer Page? She’s got a lot to prove too. BAMA: But speaking of proving a lot, Todd, the next match is the one I’ve been waitin’ for- Madison Dyson vs. Mr. Oz! TODD: You’re absolutely right, Bama. These two will stop at nothing to get what they want, abd with a title shot on the line, you can bet they’ll both be pulling out all the stops. BAMA: How about the main event, baby? A non-title Champion vs. Champion match! Matthias Syn, the XWF Revolution Champion, takes on Micheall Graves, the XWF Anarchy Champion! TODD: It’s the clash of the titans of the Anarchy brand, Bama. Neither title is on the line, but these two champions are looking to prove who is the real top dog in XWF right now. Syn has been unbeatable lately, but Graves? He’s on another level, and he’s ready to show it tonight. And we’re just getting started, folks! Stick with us, because Thursday Night Anarchy is about to begin, right after these messages! When Anarchy comes back from commercial, “Cavortin’” Jake Borden is already in the ring, doing some toe touches and jogging in place to get limber pre-match. TODD: “Jake Borden, 1970s time traveler, starting off the match in the ring! Does he not have entrance music?” BAMA T: “I heard from production he tried to give them his song on a LaserDisc!” TODD: “...Well, Jake is certainly not of *this* era, but he showed on Warfare, even in defeat, that he has a trick or two up his sleeve against the stars of the modern XWF! Can he turn it around tonight and prove that wrestling’s past IS its future?” The opening riff of AC/DC's "Shoot to Thrill" blares suddenly over the public announce speakers. The drums come crashing in, along with the rest of the instrumental section. Soon after, Dominick Strife steps out onto the stage, followed closely by his valet Isla Burke. Rochelle Adams: Making his way to the ring at this time, accompanied by Isla Burke. He hails from White Marsh, Maryland - Ladies and Gentlemen, DOMINICK STRIFE! TODD: “Dominick Strife! Another weapon in the Stars of Combat arsenal! Jimmy Stars, clearly not satisfied in his client dominating the tag division on Warfare… Now, he’s sending a valuable asset to climb Anarchy’s ladder, as well. Bama, what do you think of Dominick Strife?” BAMA T: “I like what I seen, Toddy boy! This youngin’ has done it right, climbing through the indies, taking every gig he could! He’s climbed arm-over-arm outta the trenches and up to the Land of X-Treme, the XWF! There’s a lot of hype around this kid, but I tell you now, there should be even more!” The two walk down the ramp and up the nearside ring steps. Dominick holds the ropes for Isla to step into the ring and he follows after. The two of them look out to the crowd before striking a pose. After a few last-minute words of advice, Isla wishes him luck and steps out of the ring. Dom starts warming up in his corner. Borden and Dom meet in the center of the ring… Strife stands confidently, hopping from foot-to-foot, eager for the bell. Borden seems slightly less certain. TODD: “It is worth noting Borden’s debut match on Warfare was against a fellow Star of Combat, Aurora! Do you think Aurora gave Strife any tips on how to take down Borden, Bama?” BAMA T: “Don’t know if she needed to, Toddy! From his promo, we know Domino watched the tape of Borden’s sequence with Aurora CLOSELY. If Borden thinks he can pull the same trick and come away with the same results, he’s got another think a-coming, tellyouwhat!” The bell rings! DOMINICK STRIFE - vs - "CAVORTIN" JAKE BORDEN WELCOME TO ANARCHY-NEWCOMERS BRAWL! The moment the bell chimes, Strife and Borden step forward, each crouched low as they size up one another. The competitors lock up, collar-and-elbow, in the center of the ring, pushing back and forth for control. TODD: “These two decide to open the match with a little catch-as-catch-can style grappling!” Borden slips behind Strife, locking in a waistlock! Strife deftly reverses into a standing switch, snagging Borden's arm and wrenching it behind his back into a hammerlock. Borden’s face contorts in pain as Strife wrenches that arm higher against the “Cavortin’” one’s back! BAMA T: “See that! What I tell ya? Strife has his opponent mapped out like Waze… or as Jake might understand, MapQuest, haha!” TODD: “MapQuest was launched in 1996, not the 70s, but I understand your meaning, Bama!” Strife heaves Borden’s arm upwards so hard, it briefly takes Borden off his feet. …But, when Strife lets his opponent’s feet hit the mat, Borden snaps into action, rolling forward to break the hold! TODD: “Wow! Not too shabby!” Strife, surprised at his opponent’s surprising acrobatics, steps forward to re-trap his opponent… But, Borden neatly transitions Strife’s attack into a side headlock of his own! Strife, getting impatient, pushes Borden off into the ropes, and on the rebound, Borden shoulder blocks him to the mat! Strife hits the mat, but Borden, the smaller competitor, nearly loses his footing, bouncing into the ropes! That gives Strife enough time to scramble back to his feet by the time Jake has recovered his footing! The crowd applauds the exchange! BAMA T: “Daggum! I think our crowd has gotten used to some SQUASHES in the openers, but here they’re getting a real fight in just the evening’s appetizer!” TODD: “You said it, Bama! These two seem very close in hand-to-hand skill level… Jake almost takes control after the first exchange, but Strife proves too quick for Borden to step through the opening!” The two lock-up once more! Borden smoothly seizes Strife into a side headlock, before SNAPPING Strife to the mat with a headlock takedown! Strife slips out of Borden’s grip, trying to trap Borden's neck in a leg scissors, but Borden slips free, backward-somersaults onto his feet! TODD: “Borden learned that move after Aurora dodged his attack with such a somersault on Warfare! Jake seems apt to keep it in his repertoire now!” Strife springs forward… but again, Borden sinks in a *crisp* sideheadlock, wrenching Strife to try to take him off his feet to the mat! …But, Strife’s legs do not give! He reels back his elbow, hitting Borden with a series of strikes to the midsection! Borden’s teeth grit with pain… and his grip gives out! Strife breaks free as Borden backpedals against the ropes. BAMA T: “Holy Hallibut! These boys are battling tooth-and-nail for every inch they can get out there!” TODD: “Wrestling’s a game of inches, Bama! The first one to come away with the advantage *can* be the one most likely to ride that control to a win! Neither of these two wants to give the other that road to victory!” Strife whips Borden into the ropes and attempts a clothesline! But Borden ducks under it, rebounds off the opposite side! Strife spins around, trying to get back on defense… As Borden leaps! Before connecting with a Lou Thesz Press, mounting Strife and delivering a series of quick punches! TODD: “No Man’s Land for Strife!” With Strife down, Borden shifts into his repertoire, yanking Strife to his feet and Irish whipping him into the corner. Strife’s back BUCKLES against the turnbuckle! Charging forward, Borden follows up with a big forearm smash to the skull! As Strife stumbles out, Borden scoops him up for a body slam, planting him flat on his back onto the canvas! The young time-traveler points to the top turnbuckle, drawing cheers from the crowd! TODD: “Oh man… could he do it? Could we really see another Double Axe Handle?!?” BAMA T: “...Is this really what you youngins are into nowadays?” Strife shakes it off, climbing back to his feet… As Borden leaps off the top rope! DOUBLE AXE-HAND- …NO! As Borden comes down with both fists clenched over his head, Strife leaps into the air from the mat, springing up… AND NAILING A STEP-UP KNEE RIGHT TO BORDEN’S JAW! BAMA T: “Hot DAYUM! You could build a kitchen around a counter like that!” TODD: “Clearly Strife’s pre-match tape regimen paid off! He had that double axe-handle scouted and had exactly the move to disarm it!” Borden staggers back, bouncing out of the corner, absolutely flummoxed by that amazing leaping knee lift maneuver! As Strife runs past him, rebounds off the ropes… AND catches Borden behind the neck with a bulldog! MARK 69! BAMA: “Dag-GUM! Quite a sequence from Strife!” TODD: “Strife, perhaps realizing at just the right time that Borden can handle himself in a collar-and-elbow tie-up, but seems to get confounded by more modern wrestling techniques!” Borden looks dazed, as Strife piles onto his prone opponent, hooking the leg! The official counts! 1! 2! THR-Noooo! Borden narrowly forces a shoulder off the mat! BAMA: “I’ll give this to Borden, he’s 102% fight!” Strife scoops his opponent up by the scruff of the neck… He shoves him backwards into the ropes! Borden bounces off, as Strife sidesteps, hooking his arm under his opponent’s, looking for a hip toss! … But Borden blocks it! BAMA: “Strife making a tactical error there! Borden may be old-timey, but he’s definitely seen a hip toss in his time!” Before Strife can grapple his opponent, Borden brings his hands together! EAR CLAP! Strife staggers backward, his skull smacked on both sides by Borden’s hands! Borden backs Strife against the ropes and Irish-whips him! Strife runs, bounding across the ring! On the way back, Strife ducks into a charging tackle! But Borden leapfrogs over! Strife keeps on running, bouncing off the opposite way! This time, Borden bends at the waist, looking for a back body drop… But Strife… puts on the brakes! …Drops to his knees! AND POPS Borden in the jaw! TODD: “Great move by Strife!” BAMA: “Borden looks absolutely shellshocked! I don’t know if wrestlers in the 70s have figured out you can exit an Irish Whip by… not running!” Borden drops to his knees, shocked by both that uppercut to the jaw AND Strife’s modern counter! Borden comes up, bent at the waist… As Strife backs up into the ropes! Aaaaaaand… FOR THOSE ABOUT TO ROCK! (Booker T Scissors Kick to the back of the head!) Borden drops to the mat like a sack of potatoes! TODD: “Wow! I’m sure Borden, if he had eyes in the back of his head, would be mesmerized by that incredible move!” BAMA: “Hell, Toddrick! I’m mesmerized and I’m from THIS year!” Strife rolls his opponent onto his back as the official drops to count… 1… 2… THREE! WINNER: DOMINICK STRIFE! Dominick Strife stands tall, victorious, as Isla Burke slides under the ropes to raises his arm in the air. Strife glances back at Borden, who is slowly sitting up, rubbing his jaw in confusion, clearly overwhelmed by the modern wrestling arsenal… looking as shocked at his opponent’s skill and dexterity! TODD: “An absolute classic of an opener for both these men making their Anarchy debut! Borden looked surprisingly able! There were moments where it felt like things could have gone his way!” BAMA: “But, Strife made the correct adjustments and, from there, it was academic! Borden has some moves, but there’s a reason Strife is a STAR of Combat!” Strife exits the ring, smirking at his win, leaving Borden to recover in the aftermath of a hard-fought match. 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. TODD: Here she is! Marisol Vilaró! BAMA T: Introduce her good ‘n proper, Toddy! We’re talking ‘bout The CEO! THE Brand Ambassador! The QUEEN of Vilaró Fitness! I stay out too late Got nothing in my brain That's what people say, mm-mm That's what people say, mm-mm As a spotlight is on the entrance ramp and the lights dim, first stepping out is none other than the legendary  Snarktopus Nessa Wall, who smiles brightly before trash talking the fans as she smiles, before ordering a couple of stage hands to come out they each have a mirror in hand they face the entrance ramp, as soon out from the back steps La Marvillosa herself Marisol Vilaro. I go on too many dates But I can't make 'em stay At least that's what people say, mm-mm That's what people say, mm-mm TODD: Well, no one can deny Marisol Vilaró has been impressive! She remains undefeated wrestling on Anarchy! And she came within a hair’s breadth of winning the Revolution Title at Relentless! BAMA T: Just like her gal, T. Swift, she’ll shake that one off! The titles will come, because it’s undeniable Miss Vilaró is the STAR of Thursday Nights! 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: …Quite an extended entrance, huh, Bama? BAMA T: Exactly as long as it should be, Toddles! The STAR needs her camera time! And the camera loves her! 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 ringside 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: …Okay… we do have matches to show *after* this! BAMA T: She’s almost done! You can’t rush per-FECK-shun! 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. “Next! From Booger Hole, West Virginia!  BIIIIIIIIIIIG PREEEEEEEESH!” Big Preesh struts to the ring throwing his hands up in the air in time with the music. 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: …Bama, you’ve been around for a while. What IS B.o.B.? BAMA: The best group in pro wrestling, if Preesh is to be believed! Nessa sees the gargantuan lump entering the ring and quickly steps under the middle rope to safety. When Preesh 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. TODD: Well, Preesh, despite his unclear affiliations… is OVER SIX HUNDRED POUNDS! BAMA T: And deceptively quick, Todd! His opponents are going to have a hard time shoving him around! ”And finally!  From Vero Beach, California!  LATOYAAAA HIXXXX!” “The Storm is Coming” blares over the X-Tron! Over the PA, a devilish laugh echoes throughout the arena! Suddenly, blue lights flash from the entrance! Smoke and actual rainfall stream down… As LATOYA HIXX walked onto the middle stage, flexing her powerful muscles! TODD: Latoya Hixx is a PHYSICAL SPECIMEN! BAMA: You can say that again, Toddy! This gal got GUNS like the NRA! TODD: She and her partner Razor Blade made quick work of the Big Upps last Warfare! Can she ride that momentum to a winning streak here on Anarchy? Hixx walks straight down towards the aisle… smacking a few XWF fans, laughing cockily, daring them to do something… Then, she slides inside the ring as the lights dim in the ring! Hixx flexes her arms, her rippling musculature captured in the contrast… TODD: Wow! Hixx yells at her fans “LET’S GO!”, before climbing down off the ropes! Marisol Vilaró, noticing the crowd’s impressed murmurs as Latoya Hixx steps into her corner, feels a twinge of jealousy flash across her face. Her lips tighten as she glances at Hixx’s muscled frame. The bell rings! BIG PREESH - vs - LATOYA HIXX - vs - MARISOL VILARO TRIPLE THREAT! The moment the bell rings, the CEO of Vilaró Fitness, raises her arms, stepping to the center of the ring, as her opponents allow her to… TODD: A fascinating opening choice by Marisol Vilaró to step between her two opponents! What could she be thinking here, Bama? BAMA: That the center stage is where the Star belongs, Toddy, m’boy! Vilaró raises her chin and rolls up her sleeves, flexing her biceps for the audience. There’s a hint of defiance in her eyes as she sneers at Latoya Hixx, as if daring The Storm to outdo her. TODD: What the?!? Vilaró has stepped to the center of the ring just to flex on her opponents?!? BAMA: Hey, when you’ve got the goods, let the customers see them! Vilaró is selling the world their fitness dreams come true and she’s giving their eyeballs a sample! TODD: Seems more to me like Vilaró wants to appear more muscular than Latoya Hixx! VilaroFitness’s brand ambassador doesn’t like the idea of the second-most shredded competitor in the ring! BAMA: Bite your tongue, Toddrick! Hixx, unfazed, arches an eyebrow and calmly steps forward, her gaze locking on Marisol's flexed muscles. With a slow, deliberate breath, she raises her own arms and flexes with everything she has. The veins bulge and the muscles ripple, casting deep shadows across her skin! TODD: Oh my GOD! The delts! The lats! The OBLIQUES! LaToya Hixx is absolutely YOLKED, as the youths say! The crowd erupts in a thunderous ovation, leaving Marisol's eyes to widen in embarrassment. As the cheers continue, Vilaró quickly rolls her sleeves back down, her cheeks flushed with frustration. TODD: Clearly, no love between these two absolutely shredded competitors… But, while they’re both very in-shape, I don’t think they combine to HALF the size of the third competitor they’re completely ignoring in that ring! BAMA: What third comp-OH MY GOD, Big Preesh! How long’s he been there?!? As Marisol and Hixx’s eyes meet again, Big Preesh sees his chance, his lips curling into a smug grin. He pumps his arms awkwardly, his massive chest heaving with effort as he charges forward for a double clothesline! …Unfortunately, his breath comes out in audible wheezes, giving away his approach before he’s even close… TODD: Preesh clearly skipping some cardio days. BAMA: And replacing them with buffet days! Marisol catches the sound of Preesh’s wheezing (and thighs scraping together as he runs) and her eyes flicker to Hixx. A mutual understanding forms in an instant, and they both shift their weight at the same time. Preesh’s arms swipe through empty air as both Hixx and Vilaró sidestep the attack! Preesh’s brows furrows in irritation! TODD: Wow! Both Hixx and Vilaró are quick as hiccups! Undeterred, Preesh lumbers toward the ropes and bounces off, the ropes nearly snapping under his weight, his face reddening with exertion… Preesh charges forward like a stampeding elephant, dipping his shoulder! TODD: Big Preesh, possibly looking to bowl over both his opponents! Hixx’s lips form a confident smirk as she anticipates his return… She bends her knees… And leaps into the air, effortlessly clearing Preesh’s head with a leapfrog! While Marisol baseball slides between Preesh’s legs, her jaw set in determination! BAMA: Daggum! I thought the Oh-lympics ended in August! Preesh’s eyes widen with frustration as he stumbles forward but, fueled by stubbornness, he bounces off the ropes once more. As he lumbers toward them, Hixx and Marisol nod to each other, their expressions mirroring a shared focus! TODD: Uh oh! It looks like Hixx and Vilaró are getting on the same page… Preesh might want to put on the brakes! BAMA: Toddy, you ever try to slam on the brakes of an eighteen-wheeler? Ain’t enough mat in the ring for him to stop now! Hixx and Vilaró leap up simultaneously… WHAM! DOUBLE DROPKICK! Their boots meeting Preesh’s chest with a resounding thud! Preesh’s arms circle as he tries to keep from toppling… BUUUUUUUUUT! TODD: TIMBEEEEEEEEEEEER! ! Preesh’s mouth opens in shock as he’s blasted off his feet, landing flat on his back! The ring trembles beneath his massive frame! He lets out a groan of frustration as he stares up at the arena rafters! The crowd rises to their feet, clapping their hands absolutely in awe! TODD: WOW! What a tandem strike from these two! The crowd absolutely loves it! BAMA: But, I don’t think either of them like sharing the spotlight, Toddy! Indeed, both Vilaró and Hixx briefly flex and pose, awash in the crowd’s cheering… But, when Vilaró sees Hixx posing, she sneers disapprovingly! TODD: You called it, Bama! Vilaró does *not* like being a co-star! Which is why she’s headed toward Hi-... Wait, why she’s going for Preesh? Marisol’s jaw clenches with renewed determination as she strides toward Preesh. She looks over her shoulder at Hixx, her eyes narrowing with a competitive gleam. She drops into a crouch, then springs into a handspring, landing an elbow drop across Preesh’s chest! Handspring elbow drop! The crowd cheers for the incredible acrobatic maneuver! TODD: Wow! Absolute poetry-in-motion! BAMA: And for $19.95 a month, you can do that, too!… in six-to-eight weeks, results not guaranteed! Vilaró kips back up onto her feet and spreads her arms wide, challenging Hixx with a raised eyebrow. TODD: What’s this? It looks like Vilaró is challenging Hixx to… duplicate her move? BAMA: That’s how you prove the superiority of Vilaró Fitness! Sure, Hixx has muscles, but does she have strength AND mobility? That’s what you get for $19.95 a month, Toddrick! Hixx’s expression shifts to a smirk, but there’s a flicker of doubt in her eyes. She takes a step back… Then runs forward… She manages the handspring! AND lands an elbow across Preesh’s throat! TODD: Wow! A devastating handspring elbow from Hixx to Preesh! Seems as good as Vilaró’s to me! BAMA: As good?!? P’shaw! Her landing was heavier! If she’d been diving, there’d be a clear splash! Technically, Marisol’s was superior! TODD: …Bama, when you’re executing a wrestling move? I feel like splash is *actually* what you’re going for! Hixx quickly rolls away to mask her slight struggle with the handspring elbow… But the crowd cheers just as loud for Hixx’s maneuver as Vilaró’s! BAMA: Philistines! Marisol’s lips tighten as she moves to her next challenge… She turns her back toward the fallen Preesh! And executes a crisp standing moonsault, her body flipping gracefully through the air before crashing down onto Preesh! BAMA: A Perfect TEN! Flawless execution! Vilaró quickly rolls off, her eyes darting toward Hixx with a hint of smugness. Hixx's gaze hardens, and she stomps into position… The Storm’s lips press together as she steadies herself, setting her feet! Hixx goes up for a backflip…attempting the standing moonsault! …But! She goes a little high and short! Instead of the technically marvelous chest-to-chest connection Vilaró made, she ends up dropping BOTH KNEES across Preesh’s throat! The crowd audibly ooohs, both of sympathy for Preesh’s voicebox and the fact that Hixx’s backflip has room for improvement! Preesh covers his throat, flipping onto his face! Trying to pop his crushed larynx back out! As Hixx rises to her feet, a flash of irritation crosses her face, aware that she barely matched Marisol’s grace. Vilaró points and laughs at The Storm… Vilaró then begins posing once more to exert dominance! Hixx snorts… FURIOUSLY! TODD: Ooooh, not a good idea to make The Storm angry! Hixx is stomping across the ring and going for Mar-... Preesh, again!?! Indeed, Hixx charges for the last active member of BoB… Her nostrils flare and her expression sharpens into a look of steely resolve. She bends down, wrapping her arms around Preesh’s body… BAMA: …There ain’t no way. No chance in Hell she can deadlift that lump… Hixx grunts with exertion… …She twists up! … … And she HOISTS his 650-pound frame off the MAT. THE CROWD IS AUDIBLY SHOCKED! TODD: OH MY GAWD! BAMA: There’s no… There’s actually no way! What?!?! Preesh’s eyes widen in panic as he feels himself being lifted, but he’s helpless as Hixx heaves him up to her throat! AND SLAMS him down to the canvas! LATOYA SLAM The crowd starts chanting! STORM IS COMING *clap clap clapclapclap* STORM IS COMING *clap clap clapclapclap* A proud smile spreads across Hixx’s exhausted face as she stumbles back toward the ropes… She gestures toward the fallen Preesh, (who is now loudly snoring, having been KNOCKED out by that slam)... challenging Marisol with a cocky smirk. TODD: Whaddya think, Bama? Can the Queen of Fitness do THAT?!? BAMA: …W-well, Toddy! With VilaróFitness, you can do anything you set your mind to!...Warning: Cannot actually do anything you set your mind to! Marisol’s brows furrow as she eyes Preesh’s motionless body, her lips curling into a tense frown. She approaches him, spitting on both hands! She wraps her hands around Preesh, just as Hixx did! She bends at the knee like an Olympic deadlift! BAMA: Flawless form! Perfect grip! She’s! Sheeeeeeeee’s… Marisol tries to lift Preesh with all her might, her muscles straining against his weight! BAMA: She’s! Sheeeeeeeee’s… goooooooot it…. Marisol arms tremble, and beads of sweat form on her forehead as she struggles in vain. TODD: …Doesn’t look like she has it, Bama! Hixx’s laughter fills the ring, her arms flexing confidently as she revels in Marisol’s failure. The crowd starts up anew! STORM IS COMING *clap clap clapclapclap* STORM IS COMING *clap clap clapclapclap* Marisol’s face flushes with frustration, her jaw clenched tightly as she glares at Hixx, unwilling to admit defeat. TODD: …Looks like Hixx is the winner of this ‘anything you can do, I can do better’! … TODD: However, believe it or not, there *is* still a wrestling match going on!! As Marisol backs away, furious to be outdone, her eyes catch a glimpse of her manager, ‘The Snarktopus’ Nessa Wall sneaking around the outside of the ring. Vilaró quickly shifts her focus back to Hixx, her gaze sharpening with determination… Hixx confidently flexes for the adoring crowd… As the Snarktopus wraps her mitts around Hixx’s ankles, causing Hixx’s eyes to widen in surprise. TODD: Hey! That’s interference! BAMA: It’s a triple-threat, Toddy! No DQ! Hixx's expression twists into a snarl as she kicks away Nessa’s grip, the Snarktopus retracting her hands in pain… But, Hixx’s back is still turned as Marisol charges forward, her face set with fierce determination! Vilaró launches a dropkick that connects with Hixx's back! Propelling her over the top rope and outta the ring! Hixx hits the floor outside with a growl of frustration, scrambling back to her feet as quickly as she can… Whap! Whap! From behind, the Snarktopus begins whaling on the back of The Storm’s head with her oversized purse! Hixx slowly turns around… …The Snarktopus terrfiedly skitters around the ring, with Hixx in hot pursuit! But! Meanwhile! Inside the ring, Marisol is already covering Preesh, her face alight with desperation as she hooks his leg. TODD: Wait! Marisol is looking to steal this one! ONE! Hixx catches the Snarktopus grabbing her by the hair! TWO! Wait, Hixx hears the counting, and throws the manager away! She slides back into the ac- THREE! WINNER: MARISOL VILARÓ! TODD: Marisol steals it! BAMA: YES! VilaróFitness DOES make you a winner! Marisol’s face breaks into a victorious grin as she scrambles to her feet, the official tries to raise the winner’s arm in triumph… But Marisol catches Hixx charging after her and slides under the ropes, knowing its time to retreat! Hixx’s face is twisted with anger, her fists clenched! But Marisol is already backing up the ramp with Nessa at her side. TODD: Well, Hixx may have won the posedown and the move-off, but Marisol wins the match! BAMA: Don’t be so gullible, Toddy! Obviously, Marisol let Latoya win both those meaningless contests to lure her into a false sense of security! Marisol is playing chess while you and The Light Drizzle are sucking on Candyland pieces! TODD: Well, as much as I doubt that, you can’t argue with the end result! Marisol takes the win tonight, but you can bet that it won’t be the last time these two face-off in the ring! As Hixx reaches the ropes, she glares at Marisol, who is celebrating her victory with an exuberant display of flexing and posing, her face beaming with a smug sense of accomplishment. When Anarchy returns from the commercial break, we find a pumped up crowd in Seattle roaring with approval after having just watched a Bing Bong Twinz promo on the AnarchoTron. Back at the commentary desk, Todd and Bama T. are still puzzled  about the absence of Anarchy’s new GM, “The Bashmaster” Barry Masterson. TODD: Well Bama, we’re two matches into The Bashmaster era of Anarchy, and still no Bashmaster to behold. BAMA: But there sure has been plenty of bashing, baby! TODD: That is undeniable, Bama, and this action packed eveninging is only going to get more explosive! S&M By Rhianna will play throughout the arena as the crowd cheers while Summer walks down the aisle. BAMA: You know what’s exploding right now, Todd? Summer gets to the ring side and walks up the ring stairs. TODD: ..dude, no. BAMA: The Crypto Wrestling Markets! TODD: Is that even real? I thought that was some weird offshore betting scam where people are explicitly not allowed to watch wrestling to bet. BAMA: You can bet your bottom dollar it’s real! And the bets are in! ‘Spoiled’ Summer Page is gonna’ lose BIGLY tonight, baby-o! 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. TODD: Well, I’m sure Summer Page will have a different bet to wager. Because while she was sure to point out Mastermind’s success, and longevity in this industry, she was sure to point out just how probable it is that Mastermind loses here tonight. A figure is seen walking out from the back wearing a black hooded sweatshirt on. BAMA: Here he comes, baby! The Master of Minds, and the Master of the Television! TODD: It’s indisputable, Bama. Just last Warfare, Mastermind ended one of the most prolific reigns in XWF Television Title history. 6 months and 1 day to be exact, Jason Cashe ruled the roost. And now it is Mastermind who carries the weight of the XWF’s workhorse championship! The hood was over his head so he couldn't be seen, and his head was looking down. He stood in a stance As his signature song continues to hit this is my Brutality he takes off his hood to reveal himself to be Mastermind, and he walks to the ring, alone. Taking the television title off of his waist and handing it over to the ref. TODD: Obviously this is a non title match here tonight on Anarchy, but still, plenty of opportunity remains. An opportunity for Summer Page to show that she can bang with the big leaguers here in the XWF, and, an opportunity for Mastermind to show that his historic win over Jason Cashe wasn’t just a fluke, and that he’s ready to get his reign off on the right foot. MASTERMIND - vs - SUMMER PAGE SINGLES! The bell rings! BAMA: And here we go, baby! The heat is about to get turned up to eleven, and I can already feel the tension between these two! TODD: No doubt about it, Bama. Summer Page has everything to gain, and Mastermind has everything to prove. They circle each other in the center of the ring, Summer Page looking focused while Mastermind remains stoic, his height advantage immediately apparent. The crowd starts chanting for Summer, appreciating her underdog status, but Mastermind remains unfazed, his cold, calculating demeanor showing no reaction to the noise. They lock up in a collar and elbow. Mastermind immediately overpowers Summer with his strength, pushing her back into the corner. The referee steps in for the break, and Mastermind, surprisingly clean, backs off with his hands in the air. BAMA: Look at the respect, Todd! The man may be serious, but he plays by the rules. TODD: For now, Bama. But let’s see how long that lasts. Summer, realizes that she can’t match Mastermind in strength. She circles him cautiously. Page darts in quickly, aiming a sharp kick to his leg. Mastermind winces but doesn’t lose his stance. Summer follows up with another kick, and another, chopping him down bit by bit. The crowd cheers sensing the momentum building for the underdog. Suddenly, Summer catches him with a Snap DDT, driving Mastermind’s head into the mat. She immediately goes for a quick cover. 1! …. Mastermind powers out! Todd: Summer with a quick attempt there, trying to catch Mastermind off-guard, but it’s gonna take a lot more to put him away. Mastermind stands, shaking off the DDT. Summer keeps the pressure on, bouncing off the ropes and coming back with a tilt-a-whirl russian leg sweep! Mastermind crashes to the canvas again! The crowd is fully behind her as she leaps up, feeding off their energy. Summer scales the turnbuckle, climbing to the top rope, positioning herself for her next move. BAMA:What’s she thinking here, Todd? Could it be time for the Most Perfect Moonsault Ever? I’d wager all my Crypto Wrestling winnings on it! TODDlease, no more crypto talk, Bama. And it looks like you might be right! Summer’s looking for something high risk here! BUT IT’S MASTERMIND! He springs to his feet, showing off his surprising speed. He darts into the ropes, knocking Page off balance. He then rushes to the corner from the side, catching Summer off guard with a thunderous leaping clothesline, taking her down from the top rope and sending her crashing to the mat. BAMA: WHAM BAM! That’s what I’m talking about! The master of minds just turned the tide with that one, baby! Mastermind follows up quickly, not giving Summer any breathing room. He pulls her up by the hair and tosses her across the ring with a German Suplex, folding her up like an accordion. The crowd groans in sympathy as Summer writhes in pain. Mastermind stands over her, his cold expression unchanged, before locking in a Sleeper Hold-his trademark Mind Sleeper-trying to wear her down. TODD: And now we’re seeing Mastermind’s methodical side. He’s not flashy, but he’s damn effective. BAMA: Yeah, this guy doesn’t need to make friends, Todd. He’s out here to break minds and win matches. The referee checks on Summer, asking if she wants to submit, but she refuses. Desperately trying to drag her way toward the ropes. The crowd begins claps for Page, willing her to fight through the pain. Just when it looks like she’s fading, she uses every last ounce of her power, and manages to roll herself and Mastermind over. She forces a break by grabbing the bottom rope. Mastermind releases the hold but immediately pulls her back to her feet. He whips her into the turnbuckle. She trashes violently and bounces out, staggering on her feet walking right into a… SPEAR! But Summer side steps it at the last second! Mastermind smashes shoulder-first into the ring post! TODD: What a counter! Summer Page is still in this! Summer takes advantage, hitting a quick slingshot on the rebounding Mastermind, sending him crashing down again. With him down, Summer calls for her signature move! She’s ready for the Perfect 10! She grabs his leg and begins the setup the figure 8, but Mastermind fights it, pushing her off with his long legs. As Summer stumbles back, Mastermind charges again, this time connecting with a brutal running bulldog, planting her face first into the mat. BAMA: BOOM! That’s how you end a hot girl summer, Todd! TODD: Summer meet Fall, indeed! Mastermind is back in control, but regardless Page is showing tremendous resilience here tonight! Mastermind senses the end is near. He’s moving in for the Mind Controller, now- his trademark Boston Crab. He turns Summer over and sits back, applying the pressure. The crowd watches as Summer struggles in agony, reaching desperately for the ropes again. TODD: This could be it! Summer’s got nowhere to go, and that Boston Crab is locked in tight! BAMA: It’s curtains for Summer, baby! Tappy tappy or snappy snappy! But Summer refuses to give up. She again uses every ounce of strength she has left. Slowly, she inches toward the ropes, the crowd cheering louder with every movement. Finally, with one last surge, she grabs the bottom rope, forcing Mastermind to release the hold. Mastermind is frustrated. He pulls Summer up once more. He’s ready to finish her off for good! TODD: 1999!!!!!! BAMA: That’s how much a crypto account costs per month! Out of nowhere, Summer plants the Television Champion with her signature Impaler DDT, driving Mastermind’s head into the mat! Both competitors are down, exhausted from the back and forth battle. The referee begins the ten count as the crowd chants for Summer. The ref reaches a count of nine before both wrestlers get to their feet. TODD: It’s anyone’s game now! Who’s going to capitalize? Summer sees her opening! She lines Mastermind up and nails him with a Total Knockout! The superkick connects flush with his jaw and sends him stumbling. BAMA: The Mastermind is still up though baby! TODD: PURE PERFECTION! Summer darts in and follows up with her trademark fishermans suplex, bridging perfectly for the pin. 1! 2!! 3!!! The bell rings, and the crowd erupts! Winner - Summer Page BAMA: SHE DID IT! Summer Page just pinned the XWF TV Champion! TODD: What a performance! Summer Page has just made a massive statement here tonight on Anarchy! Summer stands victorious, breathing heavily as her arm is raised in triumph. Mastermind rolls out of the ring, clutching his head, shaking off the cobwebs in disbelief. BAMA: Forget the crypto markets, because the only stock that’s rising is Summer Page, baby! TODD: You’ve got to hand it to her! Summer showed grit, determination, and most importantly, she got the job done against one of the most seasoned competitors in the XWF! TODD: This has been such an epic episode of Anarchy thus far, folks. We only wish we had our new General Manager here to to take it all in. As Summer celebrates on the turnbuckle, the screen fades to black, leaving the audience buzzing from the electric showdown. We return from the break, the crowd roaring louder still, having just watched a promotional video for XWF ‘Spooky Savage’. TODD: Well, up next Bama we have what has to be considered some type of blood feud. BAMA: And we’re not talking about gang warfare, baby! TODD: Madison Dyson and Mr. Oz have been at one another’s throat for months now. You’ll remember it was Madison who defeated Mr. Oz in the Anarchy Championship Rumble some months ago. BAMA: That’s right baby, and it was Mr. OZ who interfered in the handicap match with Dyson and her MAGA Powers sister, Misty Waters, that possibly cost those two the victory. TODD: Well, after making their feud very public the last couple of weeks our new General Manager, who we’ve still yet to see tonight, booked these two in a one on one bout. And up for grabs? The opportunity to challenge for either of Anarchy’s championships! 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. BAMA: Mr. Oz looks like a man who’s ready to take this one home tonight. He’s such a physical beast. TODD: Is that what the crypto markets are telling you again? BAMA: Nah baby, all that blood money is on Madison Dyson tonight. I’m trying to work in a little reverse karma here. 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. TODD: Well, if Madison Dyson doesn’t reverse her karma tonight, she could very well find herself on the losing end of yet another match. 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. BAMA: Make no mistake, baby. Madison Dyson told Oz not only can she meet the bar, but she’s the one who eliminated his big butt from the rumble months ago. 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 gingerly up the steps and demanding the official hold the ropes open for her. TODD: Just check out the look of disdain on each Oz’s and Dyson’s faces. These two do not like one another, and I have a feeling we’re in for a wild ride here tonight with such high stakes on the line. MADISON DYSON - vs - MR. OZ WINNER CAN DECLARE A SHOT AT EITHER THE REVOLUTION OR ANARCHY CHAMPIONSHIP! The bell rings, and the tension in the arena skyrockets. Dyson and Oz stand in their corners, glaring at each other, eyes locked and waiting to pounce. BAMA: Oh baby, you can just feel it in the air! This isn’t gonna be a wrestling match- it’s gonna be a fight! TODD: No love lost between these two. And remember, Bama, the winner gets to choose a shot at either the Anarchy or Revolution Championship. The stakes couldn’t be higher! Dyson moves in, rushing across the ring with her trademark speed, aiming to catch Oz off guard with a quick attack. She launches a series of open hand slaps, a flurry of quick strikes, each landing with a sharp crack that echoes through the arena. But Oz stands strong, absorbing the blows without flinching. His massive frame towers over Madison. He grabs one of her arms mid slap, stopping her dead in her tracks. With a grin, he effortlessly yanks her towards him and lifts her off the ground, hurling her across the ring with a powerful hip toss. Madison crashes hard, but she scrambles back to her feet, eyes wide with fury. BAMA: Did you see that, Todd? Oz just tossed Madison like she was nothing! TODD: This man is a monster, no doubt about it. Madison’s going to have to be smart if she’s going to take him down. Madison, realizing she can’t go head to head in a power contest, switches tactics. She quickly ducks under another massive clothesline attempt from Oz and bounces off the ropes, coming back with a step-up enzuigiri to the side of Oz’s head. The kick lands flush, and Oz staggers, shaking his head to clear the cobwebs. Sensing an opening, Madison immediately follows up with a sit-out jawbreaker, snapping Oz’s head back. Oz stumbles, but he’s still on his feet. Madison presses her advantage, raking Oz’s eyes with both hands. The crowd lets out a mixed reaction. Some booing her dirty tactics, but Madison just smirks. TODD: There it is- the classic Dyson. She’ll do whatever it takes to get ahead, including bending the rules. BAMA: You gotta love it, Todd. This is Anarchy, baby! With Oz blinded, Madison wraps her arms around his neck and attempts a swinging neckbreaker, but Oz’ size makes it difficult. He powers out of the hold, shoving Madison away with a brutal force. She hits the mat hard, but rolls to her feet, her eyes narrowing as she sizes up her opponent. Oz shakes off the eye rake, his expression darkening as he realizes the fight Madison is bringing. He roars, and charges at her, hitting a massive shoulder tackle that nearly splits her in half. Madison hits the mat hard, clutching her ribs in pain. Oz wastes no time, lifting her back up, high into the air with a delayed vertical suplex, holding her up for a moment to show off his strength before slamming her down with a sickening thud. TODD: That’s gotta hurt! Oz is showing his dominance now, using his raw power to manhandle Dyson. BAMA: Madison’s in trouble, baby! She needs to get out of this quick! Oz stalks over to Madison, his face emotionless as he pulls her up by the hair. He lifts her up again, this time going for a gorilla press gutbuster, dropping her across his knee with brutal precision. Madison gasps, the air driven from her lungs as she flops in pain on the mat. But Oz isn’t done! He stands over her, his lips curling into a twisted grin as he gently caresses her face, preparing for his devastating submission move- I Failed You. He lowers himself onto Madison, his hand reaching for her mouth as he whispers, “I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” BAMA: OH BABY! BASHMASTER DONT KNOW WHAT HE’S MISSING! THIS IS GETTING KINKY! BUT DYSON! Before Oz can get his hand in her mouth, Madison drives a knee into his groin, doubling him over. The referee, distracted by the action, doesn’t see the blatant low blow. The crowd reacts with a mix of shock and amusement as Madison uses the opportunity to scramble away, clutching her ribs. BAMA: OHHH! Dyson with a little insurance policy right there! TODD:The ref didn’t see it, Bama! And now Madison’s back in the game! Madison, still hurting, pulls herself to her feet. She charges at Oz and hits him with a well timed standing dropkick, sending him staggering into the ropes. Not wasting a second, she grabs his arm and twists it into an arm trap neckbreaker, driving his head into the mat. TODD: MRS. FEEL GOOD! BAMA: AND THINGS HAVE NEVER FELT SO BAD FOR MR. OZZY BABY! The crowd erupts as she goes for the cover. 1! 2!! UNBELIEVABLE! Oz powers out, sending Madison flying off of him. She’s as shocked as the crowd, breathing heavily as she struggles to figure out how to keep Oz down. TODD:Madison almost had it there, but Oz is just too strong! BAMA: She’s gotta find a way to keep him down, or this is going to be over real quick. Oz is hurt, but still begins to rise again. His strength and resilience are endless. Madison has to take things up a notch, so she slides out of the ring and grabs a steel chair from ringside. The crowd pops as she brandishes it, but the referee steps in, warning her not to use it. Madison smirks, teasing the ref as she considers her options. Oz, still inside the ring, suddenly charges at the ropes and leaps over the top with shocking agility for a man his size, hitting a crossbody on Madison, crushing her under his weight as they both crash to the outside! The crowd loses their minds at the display of athleticism, chanting "HOLY SHIT!" as the referee begins the count. BAMA: Did you SEE that, Todd? That’s 326 pounds of flying meat! TODD: This man is not human! He just wiped out Madison Dyson with that crossbody! Both competitors are down on the outside, breathing heavily. Oz is bruised but is the first to his feet. He grabs Madison by the hair and drags her toward the steel steps, his eyes filled with malice. He props her face against the edge of the steps, setting her up for something devastating. TODD: Oh no… not this… this is too much, even for Oz! BAMA: This is it, Todd! Madison’s about to get her face rearranged! Just as Oz takes a few steps back and charges in… He’s going knee Madison’s head into the steel! BUT MADISON ROLLS AWAY AT THE LAST SECOND! Oz explodes into the steel steps, as Madison rolls away, pointing and laughing at the big man who crumbles over, howling out in pain. All the while, the ref has nearly reached an eight count. Madison’s eyes go wide, she runs back into the ring and then… breaks the count? BAMA: Wait a second, baby. Madison could’ve won the match, right then and there! TODD: I’m just as confused by that tactic as you, Bama, but clearly, Madison has other plans in mind. Seizing the moment, Madison lands on her feet outside of the ring. She limps over and then kicks Oz in the ribs. She’s in full control now, her face a mask of fury. See props his face against the edge of the steps, setting him up for her trademark. TODD: Oh no.. no… NO! AMERICAN HISTORY YIKES! Oz bites the steel after the viciously placed kick to the back of the head. Blood spilling from his mouth. Madison starts pointing and laughing again. She pulls Oz up and rolls him back into the ring, struggling under his weight. Once inside, she hits him with a few stiff kicks to the midsection before grabbing him by the head and whipping him into the ropes. She's looking for something big on the rebound… BUT IT’S OZ!!!! He pops Madison into the air! SLEEP NOW GTS! TODD: DYSON COUNTERS!!!!! A SECOND MISS FEEL GOOD! She drives him into the mat with a vicious neckbreaker, shaking the entire ring! TODD: That’s it! It’s gotta be over! Madison collapses on top of Oz for the cover, hooking his massive leg. 1! 2!! 3!!! Winner - Madison Dyson The bell rings, and the crowd erupts as Madison Dyson stands victorious over a broken and bloodied Oz. BAMA: She did it! Madison Dyson has beaten Mr. Oz and earned her shot at championship glory! What a match! Madison Dyson withstood everything Oz threw at her and came out on top. She’s a force to be reckoned with, Bama! Madison stands tall in the center of the ring, her hand raised in victory as she glares down at the fallen Oz. With one final sneer, she leaves the ring, ready to claim her championship opportunity. TODD: And now the question is- will she go for the Anarchy Championship or the Revolution Championship? Either way, whoever holds those titles better watch out, because Madison Dyson is coming for gold. BAMA: And speaking of… those two men are about to set the standard for championship supremacy next, baby! The screen fades to black as Madison walks up the ramp, still taking time to turn around and laugh at Mr. Oz. 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. TODD: Here he is, The Revolution Champion! The Syn City Saint! Matthias Syn! BAMA: He didn’t have a few choice words, Toddy! He had MANY! And he lobbed them at everybody! Thad Duke! Theo Pryce! TODD: And Micheal Graves, Bama! Matthias Syn claims he plans on bringing Revolution to the world! And Revolution is never quiet! After several seconds he begins to nonchalantly walk down the ramp towards the ring, not allowing the fans to touch him. He slides under the bottom rope, jumps to his feet and poses on the ropes. As he drops down from the ropes he takes off his red leather shearling coat, hands it to the ring girl and sits on the middle turnbuckle awaiting his opponent. As the arena lights dim, the familiar eerie metal tune kicks in, and lime green lasers slice through the darkness, setting the stage for 'The Dark Warrior' Micheal Graves. Except tonight, the sinister ambiance is undercut by an unmistakable air of satire. TODD: “So… I’m just checking… This is NOT Mark Flynn, right? BAMA: "Obviously not, Toddy! The MAGA folks used deepfake AI trickery to make it only appear as if under Micheal Graves’s mask was Mark Flynn! But, I’ve been assured by those in the know, that that man is none other than the Gravy Train himself!" TODD: ...Okay, but... you and I saw Flynn's face under the mask IN PERSON, Bama! BAMA: Holograms! TODD: ...Alright, okay, fine. Micheal Graves strides out with an exaggerated tiptoe. The XTron flashes its usual montage of haunting visuals!. As they make their way down the ramp, Graves' overly dramatic clutching at the air and lunging at imaginary foes turn the entrance into a slapstick parody of itself. TODD: “Speaking of strong words, ‘Graves’ chose some very critical language of Matthias Syn this week! He called him a phony! A fraud! A Culture War Profiteer, exploiting the spirit of Revolution to draw suckers into his casino! BAMA: "Absolutely absurd, Toddy! You’re telling me he’s robbing money from randos… When *I*’m not allowed in Syn’s casino?!! Prepostorous" TODD: “Regardless, ‘Graves’ claims he’s bringing the real revolution tonight! He’s claiming to represent the interests of the wrestlers over management! And he says he’s starting tonight by taking out ‘FAKE’ revolutionary, Matthis Syn! Upon reaching the ring, ‘Graves’ flings his cape as if it were about to reveal a flock of bats flying from underneath—but it just falls limply to the floor. Champion v. Champion (Non-Title) MATTHIAS SYN © - vs - "MICHEAL GRAVES" © Matthias Syn smirks, confidence gleaming in his eyes as he bounces on the balls of his feet. He taunts ‘Graves’, jaw-jacking and launching personal attacks at ‘Graves’! TODD: Matthias Syn making it clear he feels NO love toward ‘Graves’ or ‘Flynn’ or whoever his opponent is tonight! BAMA: Safe to say, the feeling is mutual, baby! Despite Syn’s tirade of personal attacks, ‘Graves’ calmly cranks his neck to the left… Then to the right. He stretches his hands… Before beckoning Syn to come get some. …Syn sneers smugly, before charging forward wildly at ‘Graves’! TODD: Syn opening things up here! Get ready for a wild brawl here! BAMA: Exactly the environment where the Syn City Saint thrives! Syn tries to wrap his hands around ‘Gravy’’s throat, looking for a choke! But ‘Graves’ shifts his shoulder to block Syn’s hand, forcing the Syn City Saint into a collar-and-elbow tie-up! TODD: Oh my! ‘Micheal Graves’, ever since he started… ‘working’... with Mark Flynn. He’s picked up a real aptitude for grappling! BAMA: I’ll say! He makes Karl Gotch look like Karl Rove! But, the Revoltion Champ is no slouch between the ropes either! The Revolution Champion quickly shifts his feet, trying to throw his opponent straight onto the mat… But ‘Graves’ keeps his stance firm, digging his heels into the mat, continuing to jockey for control! Syn’s brow furrows in frustration… He launches a wild elbow to ‘Graves’’ forehead! …But ‘Graves’ slips under and uses the opening to slip into a standing switch, taking his opponent’s back! BAMA: Hot dang, ‘Graves’ had that elbow scouted like Syn sent that strike via snail-mail! TODD: I’m sure Flynn has impressed upon ‘Graves’ the importance of watching game tape! Clearly, ‘Graves’ has come prepared tonight! ‘Graves’ hands move like an artisan into a secure waistlock! ‘The Dark Warrior’ briefly hucks  Syn off his feet… But, Syn deadweights his feet to the ground, desperately reaching forward… And wraps his arms around the ropes! The official charges at ‘Graves’, starting a five-count to release the hold! 1! 2! ‘Graves’ releases the hold, raising his arms in the air, and stepping back away from his opp- WHAM! ‘Syn’ sneaks a backwards mule kick straight into ‘Graves’’s gut! ‘The Dark Warrior’ doubles over from the cheap shot! TODD: What a kick! Matthias Syn is most dangerous when his opponent’s guard drops! BAMA: That’s what he’s gotta do, Toddy! Syn can’t be getting caught in this catch-as-catch-can bullshit! He’s an agent of chaos, he’s gotta keep things chaotic if he wants to walk away the better champ! Syn smirks, as his hands surge forward! He wrap his hands around ‘Graves’’s mask, and tries to twist it backward around his skull! BAMA: GAH DAMN! Is Syn trying to unmask ‘Gravy’?!? That’s the worst thing you can do to a luchador is reveal their true face! TODD: …’Graves’ isn’t a luchador, Bama! I think Syn just knows he’ll have an easier time if ‘Graves’ can’t see through his eyeholes! ‘Graves’ narrowly wriggles his neck outta Syn’s grip, managing to keep his mask on straight… Shifting back intoa collar-and-elbow! Syn’s face twinges with frustration… trying to assert control, he launches a KNEE into ‘Graves’s gut! …But ‘Graves’ catches the knee! And counters into a dragonscrew takedown! Syn rotates through the air, landing on his back! BAMA: Daggum! Gravy’s got more counters than an IKEA! TODD: Syn has done everything in his power to try and throw ‘Graves’ off his game… But, every time, ‘Graves’ has neatly returned to form and kept things well in his control! Syn tries to shove his way off the mat angrily… but not before ‘Graves’ falls upon his prone opponent, securing a side headlock! Syn scowls, prying at ‘Graves’’s arm to break the hold… but ‘Graves’ holds firm! Suddenly, Syn manages to dextrously contort his legs into a headscissors around ‘Graves’’ throat! ‘Graves’’ hands slip off, as Syn planks! The Syn City Staint presses his calves together, trying to choke the life out of ‘The Dark Warrior’! TODD: Head scissors! Syn, showing he can go tit-for-tat just fine with the Anarchy champion! BAMA: You ain’t lying, Toddy! Syn’s showing he’s got the stuff! And he knows it! Syn cockily cackles as ‘Graves’ kicks wildly, unable to break the hold! …When, all at once, ‘Graves’ shifts his hips and finds his footing on the mat, surprise-stacking Syn’s shoulders against the canvas! TODD: Surprise pin! Syn looks shocked! The official drops to count! 1! 2! THR-NO! Syn backward-rolls his shoulders off the mat, angry that ‘Graves’ came within inches of stealing that one! He pops up and charges at ‘Graves’ looking for a clothesline! …But, ‘Graves’ sidesteps his opponent, hooking around the Syn City Saint’s arm and arm-dragging him to the mat onto his back! Syn scrambles off the mat, looking to attack… But he just takes another arm drag from ‘Graves’, straight onto his back! TODD: ‘Graves’ working Syn like a matador works a charging bull! BAMA: Oh-LAY! Syn charges in for another attack! ‘Graves’ sidesteps, looking for a third arm dr- WHAM! Syn launches a kick straight to ‘Graves’’ ribs, backing “The Dark Warrior” up against the ropes! ‘Graves’ squeezes his ribs, agonized after that snap kick… Syn wrenches ‘Graves’ into a front facelock, wrenching him back toward the cen- WHAM! ‘Graves’ wraps his mitts around the back of Syn’s head… And drops to his knees! JAWBREAKER! Syn backpedals defensively, keeping his footing, ready to counter whatever followup is coming… But ‘Graves’ remains by the ropes, stretching his neck… Getting ready for another round! BAMA: Daggum! Syn’s face lookin’ redder than a tomato! TODD: Clear frustration from the Revolution champion here, Bama! Syn has gotten the better of just about every opponent he’s had on Thursday Night! This is the stiffest challenge he’s faced so far! BAMA: But ‘Graves’ ain’t walkin’ through a Sunday park either, Toddy! Both these boys want this win more than anything! Syn's face twists in frustration as he rubs his jaw, the sting from ‘Graves’ jawbreaker still fresh. With a determined growl, he puts both fists up, challenging ‘Graves’ to a test of strength. ‘Graves’ shrugs, stretching his shoulders, before charging in… The two vie for control, each trying to drive their opponent onto his back! Syn’s muscles strain as he locks hands with the Dark Warrior… ‘Graves’ expression is serious as the grave, his eyes fixed intently on Syn as he applies pressure, methodically forcing Syn down to one knee. Syn grits his teeth, sweat beading on his forehead as he struggles to push back, his face reddening from the effort. Syn shifts his footing, bending the knee, to try and manhandle his way back upright! … But, ‘Graves’ masterfully tucks his heel around Syn’s ankle, driving him back against the mat! TODD: Another veteran tactic by ‘Gravy’ forces Syn on the defense! BAMA: But Syn’s most dangerous when he’s corned, Todd! Panting heavily, his back pressed against the mat… Syn's frustration boils over. …When his face suddenly breaks into a sinister smirk… He frees a hand from ‘Graves’ grip… Reaching for his eyes! TODD: Eye rake! Matthias Syn going for an illegal eye rake! BAMA: No one remembers who cheated after a week, Toddy! It’s all about putting a W in the win column! Syn tries to drag his nails across ‘Graves’’ eyes! Eye ra- ‘Graves’ neatly slips his grip around Syn’s wrist, and drives him bent at the waist! He steps around Syn’s body, trying to shove his arm into the air to force Syn’s face against the mat! TODD: Fujiwara! ‘Graves’ trying to lock Syn into a Fujiwara armbar! BAMA: Holy halibut! Even when Syn breaks the rules, ‘Gravy’’s got a counter ready! TODD: It’s important to remember Flynn wrote the rulebook on rule-bending! He knows the letter of the rules and he’s navigated through every loophole there is! … TODD: And I’m sure Flynn’s passed that expertise onto his partner, Graves! Syn furiously twists and contorts to escape ‘Graves’’ armbar attempt… ‘Graves’ manages to keep hold like a buckin’ bronco holding onto a bull… When Syn wildly kicks backward! LOW BLOW! Catches ‘Graves’ between the legs… ‘Graves’ collapses to his knees, clutching the ‘Graves’ family jewels… Syn catches his breath, sneering confidently, as he’s finally secured control… He charges his downed opponent, looking for a running boot to the sk- ‘Graves’ snaps to his feet! He sidesteps the boot… AND CHOPS SYN HARD ACROSS THE CHEST! TODD: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! BAMA: Hot dang, is ‘Gravy’ a eunuch? He sprung up like a jack-in-the-box after that crotch kick! The impact echoes through the arena, and Syn winces, his hand reflexively clutching his chest! Syn catches his breath, arms tangled against the ropes… As ‘Graves’ reaches into his pants… Scoops out… AN ATHLETIC CUP! BAMA: Oh, cuh MON! TODD: Prepared for every contingency! Vintage Fl-...er, ‘Graves’! Syn’s frustration escalates to fury, his features contorting as he rushes to attack ‘Graves’... Once more, ‘Graves’ neatly slips into a collar-and-elbow tie-up… AHHHHH! Syn suddenly drops to one knee, pressing a hand against his eye, backing into the ropes! ‘Graves’ peers confused as Syn points a finger at his opponent, shielding his eye! BAMA: Aha! Looks like it takes two to tango! ‘Graves’ jabbed Syn in the eye! Call that illegal, Todd! TODD: What? When? I didn’t see it! The referee rushes over, pointing at the XWF logo on his shirt, threatening to DQ ‘Graves’ right now! ‘Graves’ sneers furiously, telling the ref he didn’t do anything! While Graves is distracted, Syn’s lips curl into a sly smirk… Still on one knee, he slips his right wristband off and sneaks up behind Graves, who is still arguing with the official! TODD: Wait! I think Syn flopped to get the referee onto ‘Graves’’s back! BAMA: Ah, the ol’ Vlade Divac flop! A classic! …And Syn’s taking advantage of the opening! SWIP! Syn stretches the band, wrapping it around Graves’ throat and pulling tight! Syn’s face shows a gleeful malevolence as he chokes Graves! Graves’ eyes widen in panic, his body thrashing desperately in an attempt to escape! BAMA: Syn’s caught ‘Graves’ like a six-pack ring around a bottle-nosed dolphin’s blowhole! TODD: The official has completely lost control here! Syn tightens the chokehold with his wristband! The official switches gears, yelling at Syn to release the weapon-assisted chokehold! Syn cackles at this striped-slave-to-society and his bullshit rules, his grin widening as he senses Graves’ struggle weakening! BAMA: Finally! This is what Syn wanted the whole time! Total chaos! TODD: Can ‘Graves’ dig up another counter from outta nowhere! Graves’ face contorts in pain and desperation, his legs kicking as he gasps for air… Suddenly, Syn releases the grip, spinning Graves around into a front facelock, his expression shifting to one of focused aggression as he lifts Graves up and drives him head-first into the mat! SWINGING SNAP DDT! BAMA: THUD! That sounded like someone dropped a bag of hammers down the stairs! TODD: Not pretty, but effective! Has the Matthis Syn Revolution defeated ‘Graves’! ‘Graves’’s head rebounds against the mat! Syn smirks, smacking himself in the chest confidently, as he lounges into a pin! The official counts! 1! 2! THRE-NOOOOOOOOOOOO! ‘Graves’ forces a shoulder off the mat… Still sputtering and coughing on the mat! Syn meanwhile, sits up, stewing furiously at how much fight his opponent has insisted on putting up! TODD: Matthias Syn is a lot of things… But patient is not one of them! BAMA: Gotta agree with ya there, Toddrick! The Syn City Saint’s looking like he thought he shoulda been back at the casino by now! Frustration etched across his face, Syn rises slowly, shaking his head in disbelief as he stomps ‘Graves’ in the RIGHT ARM! TWICE! THREE TIMES! TODD: Savage strikes! Syn perhaps calculating how close he came to getting locked into a Fujiwara armbar earlier and trying to wound that right arm of ‘Graves’! BAMA: Or Syn just wants to HURT his opponent at this point! ‘Graves’ flips over onto his chest, cradling his arm to his chest… As Syn SPITS on the back of his prone opponent! TODD: Oooooooh, no injury there, Bama! BAMA: Nope, just one-hundred-percent insult! Syn lets out an irritated scoff and motions to the top rope, determined to end the match with a high-risk move. Climbing the turnbuckle, Syn balances himself, his eyes narrowing as he prepares for the somersault corkscrew senton. ‘Graves’ sits up, cradling his arm, waving the official over! TODD: What’s this? ‘Graves’ waving the official to come take a look at his arm! BAMA: He can’t continue! Call the match! Give it to Syn! The official jogs over to ‘Graves’, bending, asking if he can continue the match! …Syn screeches from the top rope, telling the official to get outta the way! He’s blocking the Syn City Saint’s aerial attack… ‘Graves’ tries to show the official his arm… The official leans i- Suddenly, ‘Gravy’ grabs the official by the collar! And SHOVES him backward! The official rattles against the turnbuckle! And Syn’s footing gives out! He gets CROTCHED on the turnbuckle! He howls in agony… ‘Gravy’ shakes off the pain in his arm… As he scrambles off the mat… And leaps agilely up to the turnbuckle! He scoops his head under Syn’s shoulder… … AND HEAVES! RELEASE NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX OFF THE TOP ROPE! Syn hits the mat with a thunderous impact! TODD: What a manuever! ‘Graves’ reaches deep into his partner Mark Flynn’s repertoire for a devastating slam from atop the turnbuckle! Syn’s body crashes hard, and his eyes roll back as he lies motionless on the canvas. ‘Graves’ rolls over onto Syn for the pin, his eyes locked on the referee as the perplexed official drops to count! 1! 2! THREEEEEEEEE! WINNER: ‘THE DARK WARRIOR’ MICHEAL GRAVES BAMA: DAMMIT! TODD: Wow! What an absolute war between Anarchy’s champions! Syn, the gambler, went big to take the match… and that risk came up snake eyes! ‘Graves’ and the Anarchy title rule over the Revolution! ‘Graves’ rises slowly, his face a mixture of exhaustion and triumph. The referee begrudinglyraises his hand in victory, while Syn lies sprawled on the mat, his chest heaving as he struggles to recover… Graves glances down at his fallen opponent, a small smirk forming under his mask… before he bends over… HAAAAAAAAAAAWK SPITS on the back of Matthias Syn’s head. BAMA: Egregious! What a disgusting, unsportsmanlike display by the Anarchy champion! TODD: Syn did the same thing to him during the match, Bama! BAMA: That’s all headgames! The match is over! TODD: Well, one thing is obvious! These two meeting in the ring has only *increased* the animosity between them! And with that, the broadcast of XWF Anarchy fades to black… …only for a new scene to materialize on our television screens. We’re now brought into a rather posh office suite… Didn’t I tell you that Anarchy was going to be absolutely BASHtastic? A chair spins around from one side of the desk, revealing to us, none other then Anarchy’s new General Manager, ‘The Bashmaster’ Barry Masterson He shoots an exaggerated wink into the camera before turning his focus elsewhere. Well tonight’s been a delight, hasn’t it? Across from him, unseen to the audiences, is a figure in a chair, only the cuff of their coat and the glove on their hand revealed in the shot.  They have no reaction — the canned grin briefly falls from Bashnaster’s face before a new one takes its place. Nonetheless!  You’ve seen what you’ve seen, we do what we do — and doing so what we’re good at here… Bashmaster raises an eyebrow cheekily.  There’s no response.  He looks back at the papers before him before looking back up. — and your request landed! Bashmaster slaps the desk for emphasis, that stupid little smile on his face Smack dab here!  And I tell you that I have it the ol’ rubber stamp with the same enthusiasm I’d give anything a smack, if you catch my drift… with less stinging in my hand… Voice: Great.  Then cut the patronizing. Bashmaster’s face falls. I don’t mean — Voice: If it’s done, it’s done.  That’s all there is to it.  I don’t need a tap number, Barry, just the green light. Bashmaster’s face falls into a look of discontent.  He sits back in his chair, picks up a stack of papers on his desk, and begins to leaf through them. So, Matthias Syn then, aye? Voice: Yes You do understand the man, don’t you?  A bit off his rocker — bit of a mad dog — bit of a man whose idea of “penetration” is a touch less naughty and a lot more naughty, if you catch my drift? Voice: Correct.  I know Mr. Syn — I’ve watched him closely.  I’m not picking this out of a hat.  Matthias Syn is the pinnacle of Anarchy’s dangers, the most jagged rock in your sea.  I want Matthias Syn precisely because of who he is and what he’ll be — did I not say I wanted the road less traveled? Bashmaster cocks an eyebrow, his face scrunched in confusion.  Nonetheless he turns to the table before him. Then you have what you want.  You’ll defend your championship here on Anarchy against Matthias Syn, provided you should keep it.  And I don’t suppose I get a good night kiss as you go? The person chuckles, pulling something down over their face.  Their voice is sing-songy. Voice: A woman who kisses in the very first date is usually a hussy.  And the woman who waits ‘til the second time ‘round is anything but fussy… The figure rises, their back to the camera.  They have shaggy black hair and wear a black peacoat over a turtleneck. Voice: But the woman who waits ‘til the third time around — head in the clouds, feet in the ground — she’s the girl she’s glad you found… The figure turns towards the camera, their face obscured by the white theater mask but their identity unmistakeable if not for the light in his eyes. Jonathan Bacchus: He’s your Shipoopi. The broadcast of XWF Anarchy closes. A Big Thank You TO: St. Mark Flynn Johnny Bacchus And thank you to all who RPed and participated!