The fans are decked out in their favorite wrestling tees, faces painted, and signs in hand that read:

"Make me the next contender!"

"Thugs for life!"

"Who's Preesh Crushing Tonight?"

"Misfits Rule the Ring!"

"Roger That: Victory!"

TODD: "Greetings to all our great fans tuning in for Thursday Night Anarchy, right here in the one and only UNT Coliseum, where–like everything in Texas–the stars are bigger and brighter!"

BAMA T: "Oh, don't I know it, baby! And that's no truer than here at commentary, where I'm fillin' in for Gator, who's currently wrestling with a bit of a cake mishap—yep, the fella's gone and turned himself into a giant gateaux. He'll be back once he's not such a sweet mess, baby!"

TODD: "And folks, you won't believe the main event we have in store for you tonight. F.C.B.S. and CENTURION are squaring off right here in our main event for the coveted number one contendership to the Anarchy Championship. Talk about an explosive match!"

BAMA T: "Explosive as a rack of ribs on the Fourth of July, Todd! And hot dang, we've got a six-man tag that'll rattle your bones. THE THUGS are about to go full hog wild on THE MISFITS!"

TODD: "Don't forget about the mystery that's bigger than Texas itself, Bama. BIG PREESH is walking into that ring, but who he's facing is anybody's guess. The anticipation's as thick as Texas toast!"

BAMA T: "Talk about a lovers' quarrel, Todd! They were supposed to team up, but Molly ghosted Roger faster than a hiccup in a hurricane. And now, we've got ourselves a... Domestic Donnybrook Match!"

TODD: "Whoa there, Bama! It's Last Man Standing, and let's stick to the script, alright? There's no love lost here, but let's keep it professional."

BAMA T: "Professional, got it. But you gotta admit, Todd, nothing says 'I'm sorry' like a folding chair to the back! And if Roger's looking for that 'yes' to a second date, he's got a funny way of asking!"

TODD: "Well, it's going to be a knock-down, drag-out bout that you can only get here on Thursday Night Anarchy, and it starts right... NOW!!!"

The crowd erupts as the lights drop and the spotlight hits the ramp.

As Molly's theme hits the speakers, she emerges from the back, her face unreadable. The crowd's reaction is mixed, boos mingled with cheers. She strides to the ring with purpose, her head high despite the recent controversy.

BAMA T: "Look at that stride, baby! Molly's got that fire in her belly tonight. But you gotta wonder, is it guilt, or is it determination? That's what we're gonna find out, baby!"

The lights dim, giving way to the eccentric entrance of Roger. His usual quirky demeanor is subdued tonight. He steps into the ring without his characteristic skidding entrance, nodding respectfully at Molly.

TODD: "There's a serious air about Roger tonight, Bama. You can tell last week's beatdown left a mark on him. He's not here to play games, he's here for retribution."

BAMA T: "Baby, when you mix friendship and the squared circle, things get twisted. And tonight, Roger's lookin' to untangle that knot with his own two hands!"

The bell rings, and they circle each other. Roger offers a tentative handshake, but Molly's mindset is firmly on the match. With a sudden burst, she lunges forward, engaging Roger with a quick German Suplex, and the impact sends a clear message.

TODD: "Molly's not here to make amends, she's here to fight. That suplex was picture-perfect!"

Roger recovers quickly, responding with agile maneuvers, ducking and weaving, his style is unorthodox but effective. Molly is relentless, however, using her technical skills to eventually ground Roger as she tries to lock in a submission.

BAMA T: "That's it, baby! Molly's like a thunderstorm rolling over the plains, but Roger's slippery, baby, slippery like an eel in a barrel of suds!"

Roger wriggles out of Molly's grasp, using his rudimentary but efficient moves. He goes for left, then right, his motions almost comical yet surprisingly effective. Molly seems caught off guard by such simplicity.


TODD: "Roger's back to basics approach is paying off. Who knew left and right could be such powerful moves?"

Molly attempts to retaliate with her Salford Slingshot, but Roger counters, performing his signature skidding maneuver across the mat, evading her grasp.

BAMA T: "There's that skid, baby! Just like Roger slidin' into Molly's DMs!"

The match continues as both competitors begin showing signs of fatigue. Molly connects with a devastating Cannonball, but Roger miraculously gets his feet.

TODD: "Molly's offense is fierce, but Roger's resilience is something else entirely!"

In a surprising turn, Roger scales the ropes!!!











...not too high though, cautious as ever!



He leaps, aiming for his new devastating maneuver.

BAMA T: "He's flyin', baby! Roger's bringing new meaning to 'mind over matter!'"

But Molly sidesteps, and Roger crashes to the mat. She seizes the opportunity to lock in a Kneebar, wrenching at Roger's leg with ferocity.

TODD: "This could be a game changer! Molly's got that hold locked in tight!"

Roger's face twists in agony as Molly wrenches the Kneebar tighter. With desperation fueling him, Roger crawls, clawing his way towards the ropes, but tonight, they offer no sanctuary. He uses the bottom rope to hoist himself up, dragging Molly with him, refusing to surrender.

BAMA T: "Roger ain't givin' up, baby! He's tougher than a two-dollar steak, and just as chewy!"

Using every ounce of his strength, Roger manages to stand, Molly still clamped onto his leg. With a herculean effort, he flips her over the top rope, both competitors spilling to the outside with a thud that echoes through the coliseum.

TODD: "We've taken this battle to the outside, folks, and in a Last Man Standing match, there's no count-out, no disqualifications!"

Molly is the first to stir, grabbing a steel chair from under the ring. She swings it with a primal yell, connecting with Roger's back. The sound of metal on flesh is sickening, but Roger refuses to stay down.

BAMA T: "That's gonna leave a mark, baby! But Roger's spine must be made of something other than bone 'cause he's back on his feet!"

Roger stumbles towards the announcer's table, grabbing a microphone. With a defiant scream, he launches it at Molly, catching her off guard and sending her stumbling back. He lunges forward, skidding across the announcer's table, knocking monitors and papers into the air and landing in a mess of cables!

TODD: "Our table! What a mess!"

Roger, now armed with a cable, uses it to ensnare Molly, pulling her into a vicious clothesline that sends her crashing into the steel steps. The crowd is on their feet with chants of "ANARCHY" when suddenly the picture goes out!

















The screen flickers back to life, the static clearing as the UNT Coliseum comes into view. Debris are scattered around the ringside area as evidence of the epic battle that has raged between Molly Barnes and Roger.

TODD: "Ladies and gentlemen, sorry about that disruption. Looks like Roger's improvisation with the production cable had some unintended consequences for our feed."


BAMA T: "No worries though, because we're live again, folks! And what you missed was nothin' short of spectacular—absolute ANARCHY! Our contenders have been ripping through this place like a wild Texas twister, baby! And let me tell ya, the folks here tonight will be talking about this bout for ages!"

The camera pans to show a trail of destruction leading up to the X-Tron where Roger is perched on the top, his eyes locked on Molly, who lies motionless on a table below.

Caution: Out the window!

TODD: "This match has been nothing short of Xtreme, and it looks like Roger is about to up the ante!"

BAMA T: "Don't do it, Roger! Think of your mother, baby!"

Roger steadies himself, takes a deep breath, and leaps off the X-Tron. He flies through the air, executing his special move—a flying headbutt-dive-torpedo, directly to Molly's midsection.

The impact is brutal, the table splinters into a thousand pieces, the crowd roars, Roger hooks Molly's leg. The referee rushes over and reminds Roger that in a Last Man Standing match, a pin isn't the way to victory.

TODD: "What a Special Move! But Roger, this ain't a pin fall match, you gotta keep her down for the ten count!"

BAMA T: "Somebody get that man a rule book, baby!"

Realizing his mistake, Roger shakes his head, clearing the cobwebs as he struggles to his feet and the referee starts the ten count on Molly. The crowd counts along!




ONE!




TWO!!




THREE!!!




FOUR!!!!




FIVE!!!!!




SIX!!!!!!




SEVEN!!!!!!!




EIGHT!!!!!!!!




NINE!!!!!!!!!




TEN!!!!!!!!!!

WINNER VIA TKO - ROGER!!!

TODD: "And that's it! Molly Barnes can't answer the ten count, Roger stands victorious in one of the most Xtreme matches in Anarchy history!"

BAMA T: "Roger might not know the rules, baby, but he sure knows how to put on a show! And tonight, he's the Last Man Standing!"

---

"Get Low" by Lil Jon & The East Side Boyz blares through the speakers. Big Preesh struts down the aisle to the ring, his every step in sync with the thumping bass. The crowd can't help but be drawn in by the sheer presence of this 7-foot, 650-pound giant from Booger Hole, West Virginia.

BAMA T: "Would you look at the size of him!? Big Preesh is a walking, talking bulldozer of a man, baby!"

TODD: "And he's got the confidence to match, Bama. There's no telling who's going to step through those ropes to face him tonight, but they better be ready for a fight."

Big Preesh reaches the ring and, true to form, starts working the crowd. He punches the top turnbuckle as if it owes him money, and the turnbuckle looks like it's about to tap out.

TODD: "The man's got hands like Thanksgiving turkeys, and he's already setting the tone for the night."

BAMA T: "That's right, baby! But who's gonna answer the call to face off with this colossal member of BOB?"

The music dies down, and Big Preesh grabs a mic.

BIG PREESH: "YEAH, BITCH! Big Preesh in the house, and I'm standing in this ring, the epitome of SEXY, ready to throw down with whoever's got the stones to face me! I'm the biggest man in BOB and the baddest man to ever step foot in Anarchy, and I'm about to prove it once again."

The crowd erupts in cheers, some in awe, others in disbelief at his audacity.

BIG PREESH: "I don't care who you are, where you come from, or what you think you've accomplished. You step to me, you're gonna get flattened. I'm 0.001% Cherokee, and that's 100% more warrior than any of yous will ever be, including our so-called champion!"

He points to the entrance ramp with a smirk.

BIG PREESH: "So come on out, mystery maaaan. Step into my ring, look up into my eyes—if you can reach—and see the last sight you're gonna see before you wake up looking at the lights. PREESH UP, SON!"

TODD: "Big words from Big Preesh. He's set the stage, and now we wait to see who's going to accept his challenge."

BAMA T: "Whoever it is, baby, they're about to face the fight of their life. Big Preesh is a mountain, and mountains don't move easy!"

The arena falls into a hush, all eyes glued to the entrance, waiting for the mystery opponent to reveal themselves.















Dmitri Shostakovich's Symphony No. 5 Finale starts to play A spotlight hits the stage to reveal Dick Drizzle, in a flamboyant robe, seated in a wheelchair as he's wheeled out by a nurse.

TODD: "Is that...? No, it can't be!"

BAMA T: "It's Dick Drizzle, but what in tarnation is he doing here tonight? He should be under doctor's care, taking it easy, baby!"

Dick is rolled to the top of the ramp, a microphone in his hand.

DICK DRIZZLE: "Ladies and gentlemen, Dick Drizzle is in the building! And let me tell you, not even a heart attack can keep me down. Big Preesh, you think you're the only one who can strut in this ring? You think you got the market cornered on sexy? Not with 'The Natural' in the building, brother! Woooooo!"

The crowd mirrors his "Woooooo!" with enthusiasm as Dick continues, the nurse nervously standing by.

DICK DRIZZLE: "Tonight, against doctor's orders, I'm here to show you and everyone else that age is just a number, last week was a fluke, and Dick Drizzle still has a few tricks up his sleeve! Woooooo!"

As Dick Drizzle distracts the crowd and Big Preesh, several mean-looking thugs emerge from the crowd, creeping towards the ring.

TODD: "Wait a minute, what's this now?"

BAMA T: "Looks like Dick's brought some friends, baby!"

Big Preesh, who had been laughing at the sight of his supposed opponent in a wheelchair, suddenly finds himself on the receiving end of an ambush attack. The thugs slide into the ring, and before Preesh can react, they jump him.

TODD: "It's a setup! Big Preesh is being blindsided!"

BAMA T: "It's a good ol' fashioned mugging, Todd! And Dick Drizzle is the mastermind!"

The thugs lay into Preesh, a well coordinated attack that brings the giant to his knees. Meanwhile, Dick Drizzle rises from his wheelchair, throwing off his robe to reveal his saggy ill-fitting wrestling attire underneath. He tosses aside his nurse, grabs his whiskey bottle, and takes a celebratory swig as he struts twoards the ring.

DICK DRIZZLE: "Ha! You just got DICKED by DICK! Woooooo!"

He staggers into the ring, reveling in the chaos he's orchestrated. Big Preesh finds himself overwhelmed by the coordinated assault of the thugs. The giant from Booger Hole, West Virginia, tries to fight back, but the sheer numbers prove too much.

TODD: "This is a despicable ambush, Bama! Big Preesh was expecting a one-on-one match, not this!"

BAMA T: "Dick Drizzle's got himself a posse, and they're showing Big Preesh what it means to 'Get Dicked', baby!"

Inside the ring, Dick Drizzle tosses aside his whiskey bottle.

DICK DRIZZLE: "It's time for Dick Drizzle to make a statement! Woooooo!"

With the crowd's mixed reaction, Dick Drizzle makes his way to the downed Big Preesh, who is on his knees, struggling to fend off the relentless attackers.

BAMA T: "And here comes Dick Drizzle, the mastermind of this whole ordeal!"

Dick Drizzle approaches Big Preesh and taunts him with a few stomps, further weakening the giant. The thugs bully the referee into starting the match. The bell rings, then Dick Drizzle locks his sights on Preesh's legs and decides to make his move. He hooks Preesh's leg and applies the Figure Four leglock.

TODD: "Dick Drizzle going for the Figure Four! This could be devastating!"

BAMA T: "He's wrenching it in, Todd! Big Preesh is in excruciating pain!"

Big Preesh, trapped in the painful submission hold, howls in agony. The crowd's initial confusion and shock have turned into a chorus of boos for Dick Drizzle's underhanded tactics.

The giant struggles desperately, his massive frame trembling from the pain inflicted by the Figure Four. The thugs who had been attacking him earlier continue to taunt and jeer at his suffering.

TODD: "This is a disgrace, Bama! Big Preesh doesn't deserve this!"

BAMA T: "Sometimes, Todd, you gotta do what it takes to prove a point. Dick Drizzle wants to make sure everyone knows he's still a force to be reckoned with!"

It's clear that Big Preesh is in no condition to continue. With tears of pain in his eyes, he raises his hand and taps out, submitting to the Figure Four leglock.

TODD: "Big Preesh has tapped out! Dick Drizzle's devious plan has worked!"

BAMA T: "And he's not letting go, Todd!"

WINNER VIA SUBMISSION - 'THE NATURAL' DICK DRIZZLE!!!

The referee calls for the bell, but Dick continues to apply pressure to the Figure Four, further punishing Big Preesh. The crowd's jeers grow louder as they witness the ruthless assault.

TODD: "This is an absolute disgrace, Bama! Someone needs to put an end to this!"

BAMA T: "Dick Drizzle's sending a message, Todd, and he's not stopping until everyone hears it loud and clear, baby!"

After several agonizing moments, Dick Drizzle finally releases the Figure Four leglock, causing Big Preesh to clutch his injured leg in pain. With his entourage of thugs and a chorus of boos trailing behind him, Dick Drizzle makes his exit, having made his statement.

---

The crowd jump to their feet as the theme music for THE THUGS blasts through the speakers. Tommy Wish, John Black, and Reggie Estrada make their way to the ring, each exuding confidence and ready to brawl. They slide into the ring, nodding to each other as they prepare for battle with The Misfits.

BAMA T: "These boys are lookin' sharp, baby! THE THUGS are here to throw down and throw down hard!"

Suddenly, THE MISFITS' theme takes over. Mastermind, Kris Von Bonn, and Victor Mental stride out from behind the curtain.

TODD: "And here come THE MISFITS, a formidable trio with a mix of brains and brawn that's tough to beat."

The referee signals for the bell, and the match explodes into action. John Black starts off strong, delivering a flurry of Heymakers to Victor Mental. Victor counters with a sharp karate kick but gets caught in a Rear Naked Choke.

BAMA T: "Victor's slippin' those karate moves in, but John Black ain't havin' none of it, baby!"

As John tags in Tommy, the match's pace picks up. Tommy executes a flawless Enziguri on Mastermind, who barely tags in Kris Von Bonn on his way down to the mat. Kris enters with a bang, his Hammer Time Pedigree leaving Tommy in shambles.

TODD: "Von Bonn's bringing the hammer down, and Tommy Wish might be wishin' he was anywhere but here!"

The tag to Reggie brings a fresh meat to the match. Reggie's Mexican Surfboard has Kris struggling. As Reggie maintains the pressure, Kris's allies rally around him. Mastermind shouts strategies from the corner, while Victor Mental paces like a panther ready to pounce. On the opposite side, The Thugs are barking encouragement, urging Reggie to keep the submission locked in.

Kris finally channels his raw power, inching toward his corner, his arm outstretched, his fingertips brushing his partner's hand. But before he can make the tag, Reggie releases the hold and drags him back to the center of the ring.

TODD: "Reggie's not letting up! That Mexican Surfboard is locked in tight!"

BAMA T: "That's right, baby! But look out, here comes The Judge!"

In a flash, Victor Mental charges across the ring, spearheading into Reggie with the ferocity of a freight train. The impact echoes throughout the arena, and the crowd erupts as the hold is broken.

Chaos ensues as the ring becomes a battlefield. Tommy Wish and John Black leap into the fray, unleashing a barrage of clotheslines and uppercuts. Mastermind joins the melee, trading blows with John Black, their grudge apparent in every strike.

TODD: "It's pandemonium in the ring! The referee's lost control!"

BAMA T: "This ain't a match anymore, it's an all-out war, baby!"

Kris Von Bonn, wielding a chair like Thor’s hammer, crashes it down upon Tommy Wish, who barely manages to roll out of the way, the chair clanging against the mat. Mastermind, ever the strategist, wields a kendo stick, each strike finding its mark on John Black's back and earning a pained grimace from the toughened veteran.

BAMA T: "The Misfits are taking control, baby! This is why we're ANARCHY, baby!"

TODD: "The Misfits are relentless, but The Thugs aren't down for the count yet!"

Victor 'The Judge' Mental orchestrates the chaos, his eyes surveying the ring with judicial calculation. He delivers Order in the Court, a spear that nearly cuts Reggie in half, and follows up with a Guilty GTS to a staggering Tommy Wish, who collapses like a tower succumbing to demolition.

Kris, his eyes wild with battle fervor, takes to the skies with a moonsault that would make any high-flyer proud, crashing onto Reggie with a thunderous impact outside the ring.

But just as the scales of battle tip in favor of The Misfits, the tide turns. From the depths of desperation, The Thugs find their footing. John Black evades another kendo strike, grabbing the stick and wrenching it from Mastermind's grip, reversing the momentum with a stinging shot of his own.

TODD: "Oh! The tables have turned!"

BAMA T: "It ain’t over 'til it's over, and The Thugs are here to fight, baby!"

With Mastermind reeling, Reggie finds his moment and lands a Turrentio on Mastermind outside the ring, shifting the gears of the match. The crowd gasps at the athleticism as Reggie’s maneuver sends both men crashing to the ground in a heap.

TODD: "Reggie with a solo effort, and it's paying off big time for him and his team tonight!"

John Black hits Tha Underground Noise on Kris Von Bonn while Tommy Wish scales the ropes, flying off with a spectacular Moonsault of his own. Reggie, outside, manages to lock Mastermind in a Shoot Armbar, neutralizing the threat.

BAMA T: "Look at Tommy fly, baby! That Moonsault's a thing of beauty!"

Tommy pins Kris!




ONE!





























TWO!!



































THREE!!!

WINNERS VIA PINFALL - THE THUGS!!!

TODD: "And it's over! THE THUGS have done it!"

BAMA T: "What a match, baby! THE THUGS are walkin' away with the win, but nobody's walkin' away the same after this one!"

The crowd roars in approval as THE THUGS have their hands raised in victory. Despite the win, they show respect to their worthy opponents, nodding to THE MISFITS, who are slowly recovering, signaling a battle well fought.

TODD: "Respect where it's due, THE MISFITS showed up and showed out. But tonight, THE THUGS were the better team."

---

The lights dim, the crowd buzzes, and the first notes of Wild Thing cut through the arena.

Centurion strides down the aisle, his eyes locked on the ring.

The crowd erupts for the man whose legacy is interwoven with the fabric of the XWF.

TODD: "Here comes a true veteran of the ring, Centurion. Tonight, he's not just fighting for a shot at the title, he says that he's fighting for the very soul of Anarchy!"

BAMA T: "That's right, baby, this ain't just another boring return, baby, it's a bonafide mission!"

As Centurion warms up in the ring, a new tune blares out…

The Canadian National Anthem echo through the arena, a chorus of boos rises from the Texas crowd, their disapproval louder than the music itself.

Mostly unfazed, the French Canadian Bed Shitter makes his entrance with a heavy scowl.

TODD: "And there's the man himself, the French Canadian Bed Shitter. As unorthodox and unpredictable as he is!"

The bell rings, and the two men clash. Centurion starts with a series of technical maneuvers, showcasing the finesse of a seasoned pro. FCBS responds with his high-flyer's agility, dodging and weaving, landing a moonsault that gets the crowd on its feet.

TODD: "A beautiful moonsault from FCBS, but he's going to need more than that to keep Centurion down."

The battle rages on, with each wrestler trading blows and holds. Centurion's Smart Bomb is countered into a Rolling Hangover Leg Drop by FCBS, but it's not enough to keep the old warhorse down. Centurion fires back with a V Trigger, rocking FCBS, followed by a series of chops that elicit Dick Drizzle ‘Woooos’ from the crowd, much to Centurion’s disdain.

In the heat of battle, the referee finds himself in the wrong place at the wrong time. Centurion executes a massive Hip-Toss, sending FCBS crashing into the official. The ref takes a hard bump and lies motionless!

TODD: "Oh no, the referee's down! This match just turned into a lawless land!"

BAMA T: "IT'S ANARCHY, BABY!"

Seizing the opportunity, FCBS rolls out of the ring, his eyes scanning his surroundings for any implement of destruction. He grabs a steel chair and clanks it shut.

TODD: "Watch out, Centurion! Looks like FCBS has got some dastardly plans with that chair!"

But Centurion is one step ahead. Unbeknownst to FCBS, Centurion reaches under the ring and retrieves his trusty golf club, a weapon that has swung many matches in his favor!

BAMA T: "Oh, it's tee time, and Centurion's looking to score a hole-in-one on the Bed Shitter, baby!"

Centurion wields the golf club with the confidence of a seasoned pro, thwacking away at FCBS, who desperately uses the chair as a shield, the clanging of metal on metal echoing through the arena.

TODD: "This has turned into a duel of steel! Centurion is relentless!"

BAMA T: "The French Canadian is on the defensive, baby, but that chair can't hold up forever!"

True to Bama's words, with a mighty swing, Centurion sends the chair flying out of FCBS's hands, clattering across the floor. With the chair gone, FCBS’s last line of defense is breached. Seeing his moment, Centurion tosses the golf club aside and delivers a swift kick to the mid-section!

TODD: "Centurion's done playing games! Here it comes!"

With a burst of energy, Centurion captures FCBS in his grasp and hoists him onto his shoulders. The crowd rises to their feet as Centurion executes the 1000 Mile Slam, slamming FCBS down onto the thin padding with such force that the crowd feels the impact in their chests and let out a heavy gasp in unison.

BAMA T: "1000 Mile Slam on the outside! Can the French Canadian continue, or did he just shit the bed, baby!?!"

Centurion rolls the dazed FCBS back into the ring.

The referee, now shaking off the cobwebs from earlier, positions himself back into this match.

TODD: "Centurion is not going for the cover; he's got something else in mind!"

BAMA T: "I think we're about to see something special, baby!"

FCBS stirs, barely getting to his knees, when Centurion strikes. In a fluid motion born from hundreds of battles, he hoists FCBS onto his shoulders. The crowd senses what's coming and rises as one, a collective intake of breath filling the arena.

TODD: "Could it be? Yes—Centurion's setting him up for the Fabula Nova Crystallis!"

With a roar from the crowd, Centurion executes his ultimate finisher!

Centurion drives him into the mat with the One-Winged Angel!

BAMA T: "There it is! The Fabula Nova Crystallis! Stick a fork in that Shitter, baby, 'cause he's done!"

Centurion hooks the leg as the referee counts!


ONE!




















TWO!















THREE!!!

WINNER VIA PINFAL–AND NEW NUMBER ONE CONTENDER–CENTURION!!!

As Centurion's theme blares out, he rises and has his arm raised by the referee.

TODD: "Centurion has done it! He is the number one contender for the Anarchy Championship!"

BAMA T: "EDWARD better be ready, baby, because Centurion is coming for the 'Shiny' at Fire and Ice!"

The crowd's cheers are deafening, but they get even louder as the Anarchy Champion, EDWARD, emerges onto the stage, his 'Shiny' glistening around his waist.

TODD: "Look at this! EDWARD, the Anarchy Champion, is here to get a firsthand look at his next challenger!"

BAMA T: "And he ain't just looking, Todd, he's measuring him up, baby! This caveman ain't new to the hunt!"

Centurion turns to face the stage, locking eyes with EDWARD.

EDWARD flexes the hand once shattered by Centurion's hammer—an injury that nearly saw the end of his battles forever.

TODD: "What a moment we are witnessing! Centurion, the number one contender, and EDWARD, the reigning Anarchy Champion, with a history that's as personal as it gets!"

BAMA T: "That's right, Todd! EDWARD's hand was once broken by Centurion, in response to EDWARD biting off one of Centurion's digits in a prior match—Now that's the very hand that holds what Centurion wants most. You can't write this stuff, baby!"

TODD: "You sure can't, Bama, but we'll have to wait until Fire and ice to find out who will walk away from this battle with the Anarchy championship!"

BAMA T: "We're outta time! That's all, babies!"