As per usual, pyro explodes from the Barclays Center to a raucous crowd. Excitement is abound as Warfare comes LIVE from Brooklyn.
JC: WELCOME TO THE BARCLAYS CENTER!
The cameras pan around the exuberant crowd.
JC: WELCOME TO BROOKLYN!
Finally, the cameras settle on Jacuinde and Brody.
JC: Ladies and gentlemen, we are LIVE here on Warfare! I am your host as always, Jacuinde Castillo and beside me, my broadcast colleague, Brody Goodman.
BG: BEAUTIFUL Brody Goodman, Jacuinde! Get my name right or step out of the way! I hear Pip Collins may want to take your seat.
JC: Be that as it may, we have a truckload of action in store for the Universe tonight! Both the tag team titles and as is normally the case, the Television title is also on the line tonight in our main event!
BG: Tonight’s challenger is fresh off a marquee win two weeks ago against Centurion!
JC: That’s right! And Adam Garcia will now look to capitalize on that forward momentum as he looks to take the Television title from division stalwart, Jason Cashe!
BG: Cashe has mastered the 15 minute match, that’s no secret! He’s outwilled ands outlasted every challenger that has come his way but tonight, 15 minutes is NOT in play!
JC: You’re absolutely right, Brody! Tonight’s main event will be contested within a 20 minute time limit and I think that may be a first for the division!
BG: That’s just Petty Duke taking exception to Jason Cashe and his criticism.
JC: I don’t think that’s the case at all, Brody! Jason Cashe has gone on record demanding tougher competition for his title and if you think back to Leap of Faith, you’ll remember that the Executive Director largely agreed with Cashe’s criticisms.
BG: Well whatever. The main event is a good one!
The camera focuses on the stage as the lights cut and “The Gnashing” by Deafheaven begins to play over the P.A. The guitar seems to shimmer over the crowd as muffled as white lights flash like sparks around the floor. A name appears on the tron: Jonathan Bacchus.
Buried secrets, mythic meanings
In a tender ocean spilling
The crowd gives an appreciative pop as the out from behind the curtain walks Jonathan Bacchus, dressed in all black with a peacoat over a turtleneck and combat pants bloused into his Louboutin sneakers. He wears a white Thalia mask over his face, his hair hanging down over the top.
A leaking thimble flowing fragile
Oozing tension into blue
He marches down deliberately, his eyes on the ring. On the ramp, he removes the Thalia mask and flicks it casually over his shoulder into the crowd. Stitches can be seen on his face – under his chin and across his hairline – as the remnants of his ugly Tai-Pei Deathmatch at the beginning of the month.
ANNOUNCER: Making his way to the ring, from Oakland, California and weighing in at 205 lbs… he is “The Insurgent” – JONATHAN! BACCHUS!
Hear these howls hurling our present
I know what this costs us
At the base of the ring, Bacchus turns to the stairs and climbs them to the turnbuckle. With a single clean vault, he launches himself over the top rope and turns to land on the middle rope inside the ring, his peacoat seeming not to hamper his movement. As his theme song explodes into the chorus, he throws his head back and arms out, the lights flashing bright white and the audience roaring appreciatively!
Hear these howls, embrace the Gnashing
A small smirk creeps over his face as he looks around at them – yet an intensity remains in his eyes. He takes a moment to blow a few kisses to nobody in particular.
I know what this costs us
I know it’s exhausting you
He removes his peacoat and drops it to the outside before pulling his turtleneck over his head. He whips this into the crowd before dropping down to the mat, circling the ring before taking back to his corner and reclining in it.
XWF's Head of Security Tommy Gunn walks out from the back. He wastes no time walking straight down to the ring where he ascends the steps and then climbs through the ropes, never removing his eyes from his opponent.
Jonathan Bacchus
- vs -
Tommy Gunn
-Traditional Rules-
|
The bell rings and Gunn immediately shoots in! Going for a clothesline!
DODGE! Bacchus slips to the side, evading Gunn’s opening ambush… and launches a low rotating leg kick that clips Gunn right in the calf as he runs by!
Gunn limps from a sprint into a jog, but still hits the ropes, looking for another clothesline…
DUCK! Bacchus does a full bridge backwards to evade Gunn’s second attack…
Gunn runs through, hitting the ropes…
As Bacchus handsprings off the bridge… HANDSPRING DROPKICK! Gunn catches two boots sideways across his face!
JC: Oh my God! I’ve never seen anything like that before! Jonathan Bacchus is an innovator of offense!
BG: And Gunn’s still looking for more! …Wait, no, he’s not looking, he just can’t stop his current momentum!
Indeed, Gunn stumbles over his feet, bouncing off the ropes… And trips back toward Bacchus who…
DIP…s his head under Gunn… And lifts his back! BACK BODY DROP! Gunn fliiiiiiies through the air, landing HARD on his back and skipping like a rock on a pond under the bottom rope!
JC: I bet Tommy Gunn wishes he could do-over this opening sequence! Fortunately, the wily veteran can use some of his ten-count to regroup!
BG: It looks like Bacchus might object to Gunn’s regrouping, though!
Bacchus goes to slip between the ropes to continue the attack on Gunn… BUT! The official blocks Bacchus with his whole body, insisting he remain in the ring!
Bacchus raises both arms and backpedals toward the center of the ring in apparent acquiescence.
The official spins toward Gunn, catching his breath, resting an arm on the apron… The official leans between the ropes over Gunn’s head and starts a ten-count
DIVE! Bacchus runs, hops OFF the official’s back… Over the ropes! Gunn looks up, shocked at Bacchus’ incredible, ballet-like grace and athletic-
BACCHUS DOUBLE FOOT STOMPS STRAIGHT ONTO GUNN’S FACE!
JC: Oh my God! This is an absolute massacre! Gunn isn’t safe from Bacchus inside OR outside the ring!
BG: Gunn will be having nightmares tonight about Jonathan Bacchus!
Bacchus peels Gunn off the padded concrete and tosses him back under the ropes, Gunn rolls inside the ring, woozily stumbling back to his feet…
JC: Somehow, Gunn’s still getting up! He doesn’t have an ounce of quit in him!
BG: He should, though! Someone! Please give him an ounce of quit!
Gunn spins on Bacchus… Legs woozy, but dukes still raised, still ready to fight to the last…
Bacchus raises his fists, bobbing and weaving…
JC: Gunn hasn’t scored a strike so far in this match… But, sometimes one strike can change the course of a match!
…Gunn surges forward, looking for a haymaker…
…
……
DODGE! Bacchus sidesteps the blow… AND KNEES GUNN IN THE GUT!
BG: Oof! Bacchus has punished Gunn for every single attempt at an offensive move Gunn’s tried tonight!
…Gunn is bent over at the waist, sucking air… Bacchus wraps his arms around Gunn’s back… AND HEAVES HIM IN A GUTWRENCH POSITION ABOVE HIS HEAD!
The crowd rises to their feet, amazed!
JC: WOW! Bacchus is not just quick as a hiccup, he’s also strong as an ox!
Bacchus cradles Gunn’s spine directly above him…
THEN FLIPS HIM…
STRAIGHT ONTO GUNN’S SKULL!
TRAGEDY! AT! BUFFALO! (Gutwrench Piledriver)
JC: And that is surely all she wrote for the XWF's Head of Security.
Bacchus crosses Gunn’s arms across his chest as the official counts…
1...
2...
3!!!
WINNER - Jonathan Bacchus
|
JC: Bacchus! Continues to thrive and ascend up the ranks here in the XWF!
BG: Pipe down, Jacuinde! It was just Tommy Gunn!
JC: Nevertheless, a win is a win is a win and Jonathan Bacchus continues to do just that!
No sooner had the referee allowed Johnny to lower his hand than the Insurgent slid from the ring, walking over to the announce desk and up to Rochelle Adams.
Jonathan Bacchus: Can I borrow that?
Rochelle looks down at the microphone in her hands, back to Bacchus’s gaze fixed on it, and extends the device. Upon receiving it, he brings his hands together in a quick appreciative bow.
Jonathan Bacchus: Danke schön.
He then turns back to the ring and slides in, getting to his feet before crossing to the turnbuckle to pull himself up to a sitting position atop it. His music fades, and he looks out at the mixed reception of the crowd — a wry smile crosses his lips. And when he has silence, he begins to speak.
Jonathan Bacchus: You know, I debuted just over two months ago, but in that time I’ve watched the currents change in this company shift in ways no different than any other in this industry but nonetheless must take a little getting used to. I want everyone to think for a moment — just think — back to January. Imagine being told the following: Ned Kaye is going to beat his tag partner Isaiah King for the belt, Isaiah is going to take up his royal lineage, and he’s going to disappear for a little after knocking Dolly Waters so silly that she goes back to the spirit realm to get puppeted by her dead grandma. Think how you’d react to be told that Thaddeus Duke is gonna be General Manager of Warfare, he’s going to be separated from his wife Lauren, and he’s gonna get seduced by said dead grandma which results in a messy love triangle. Think about that — that wasn’t on my 2024 BINGO.
He can’t help but smile a coy, impish and devilish grin like a Cheshire Cat.
Jonathan Bacchus: Think about being told you’re not just getting Sebastian-Everett Bryce as champion, but he’s bringing Corey Black and Spencer Adams along for the ride. That’s right: Pantheon is in XWF — a stable with a lineage across multiple companies and decades. That right off the bat they’d take the company by storm, all three securing a title at some point and collectively coming within a breath of tag gold. That there’s be a new influx of this industry’s finest stars entering XWF to test its mettle and see how its finest stars stacked up. Spencer Adams versus Kieran King; Sebastian Everett-Bryce against not only Ned Kaye but Dionysus, Mark Flynn, and Sean Parker; Corey Black versus Bobby Bourbon. You see, I may be a greenhorn in this neck of the woods, but I’ve always been a student of the game and scholar on the industry — that success may have been shocking to some, but not to me. From the moment they formed in Cambodia to the moment Sebastian raised the XWF Universal Championship aloft over Ned Kaye, history was on its way to being repeated. Time marches on, and there was a new chapter being written. The question wasn’t how so much as how much. And, of course, “what happens next.”
A pause.
Jonathan Bacchus: And then one day in June on the banks of the Russian River in Monte Rio, California, several months worth of “stupid videos” culminated in one Jonathan Bacchus stepping out from behind a curtain to put a slug in Sebastian’s gut and upend the whole table once more.
A smattering of boos — that same wry smile.
Jonathan Bacchus: So the story must go that Jonathan Bacchus, another white hot force must rip through the company and find himself face-to-face with Sebastian Everett-Bryce at Relentless this upcoming September, correct? This would, of course, be the natural flow of history with this story. Bacchus would descend from the shadows, take to rafters under bright lights, and secure the 24/7 briefcase to taunt and torture the champion before their inevitable encounter where Sebastian Everett-Bryce would have his mettle tested in poetic irony.
But, alas, systems have ways of correcting themselves. The knobs and levels of power can only be turned and tweaked so much before the failsafe kicks in. That failsafe was on “Notorious” Ned Kaye…
A chorus of boos — at the sting of SEB’s sabotage or Ned’s turn?
Jonathan Bacchus: But understand this — I find no shame or dishonor in losing to a man like Ned Kaye. I’m not a Vic Vernacular or a Bobby Grenier; I don’t fold when the cards are on the table. I’m not a Peter Vaughan popping around at a chance to feather my resume, and I forsook my “Rascal King” moniker because I don’t want anyone thinking I wear a paper crown like “Prince” Adeyemi or little mister KiKi King. I’m staring down the barrel of a loaded gun labeled “nothing for Relentless”, but if I’m sitting at a table anywhere besides one of those three cities on any of those three days, I know the only “loser” is the final box office total and general welfare of the viewing audience instead subjected to another Madison Dyson piss break.
A DECIDEDLY MIXED reaction, the few cheers far outweighed by the boos.
BG: You gotta give it to ‘em — this kid doesn’t give a damn if he makes friends or not!
JC: Half the locker room’s gonna want to take him down a peg soon.
BG: And you can see that little grin on his face: he welcomes it to see how many takes down instead!
Jonathan Bacchus: Those of you who didn’t know me have now seen me, and whether you want to admit it or not, you’re going to turn your dial to whatever program lists me in the first two names! The kids call that ‘clout’, the old heads call it ‘draw’, and the internet calls it ‘aura’ — I call that bonafides! You can cheer me or boo me, but you all want to see me in this ring across from Ned Kaye for Round 2 or Sebastian to get some answers. And the fact is that the only ‘winner’ that comes from my lack of a Relentless opponent is that locker room in the back who’ve been hosting Kumbaya circles that it won’t be one of them!
Bacchus jabs a finger at the curtain for emphasis, his voice hitching up a notch in passion. As the crowd’s reaction subsides, he continues.
Jonathan Bacchus: So if my final destination in September when it comes to Relentless is unclear, I have no choice but to give my undivided attention towards the one fully gestated: the main event of XIII against ‘The King of All Wrestlers’… Corey Black.
A pause as the audience cheers!
Jonathan Bacchus: Now I tend to keep my cards close to the chest, but I want everything on the table as this hand’s played. I’m not just transparent or forthright — I’m the only honest man in wrestling. Corey Black’s got the opportunity of his lifetime tonight to bring Pantheon the gold it demands, and I’ve got no cards up my sleeves. So allow me, my king, to pay my respects — show the world you’ve got the backbone to match your bluster… And face me.
“I Would Die 4 U” by Prince hits and the crowd comes unglued. Out from the back walks The King of the Wrestlers, clad in all black from cargo pants to hoodie, hair slicked back and a mean look on his face.
Corey slides into the ring with elegance, standing up and eyeing his foe up and down as he sits on the buckle. But Corey turns, instead facing the crowd and licking his teeth. A mic is produced from his pocket.
Corey Black: Face you? That's all you want from me here, Johnny, is to walk out and point my nose at the most honest man in professional wrestling?
The King begins walking along the ropes, keeping his back to Bacchus.
Corey Black: I gave you exactly what you wanted already; now go ahead with whatever those respects you so dearly need to pay.
A beat, a moment in time passes as the two men analyze their positions. Like putting a pawn out on the chess board, Corey turns his body so that he is leaning back against the ropes, eyes locked on Bacchus, just as asked. And Bacchus replies with a wry scoff, turning to pace the ring.
Jonathan Bacchus: And that’s it, huh? That’s always how it’s been between us, right? Johnny Bacchus, the wordy lil’ upstart who walked hard but talked loud enough the upper echelons could dismiss the rumblings as mere thunder…
A pause. Bacchus turns back to Corey Black.
Jonathan Bacchus: And Corey Black, the God of Gods aloft in Valhalla, deaf to our prayers and pointing his nose at us only for so long as he can be sure we see him turn it upwards.
Quiet boos. Bacchus’s demeanor darkens.
Jonathan Bacchus: I know you don’t respect me, Corey. Not even before I posted your little mascot, Sebastian — certainly not now, but never before. We can talk about a lot of history for two people who haven’t stood this close in almost two years: we can talk about a certain friend of mine, talk about friends of yours — we can talk about the fact we’re about to be apart a ring, and we can talk about that time we stood side-by-side in one. But no matter the conversation, I think we can agree on one thing…
Jonathan pauses, lowering the microphone as he steps towards Corey Black, the two now face-to-face as they look one another in the eyes.
Jonathan Bacchus: … You don’t like me. You never have. Maybe you can’t quite explain it, but you just don’t. Dunking your buddy a couple months ago gave you that excuse, but you didn’t need it. You just… don’t like me. And in spite of everything I’ve done since I walked away from a certain company we both worked for — hey, TJ — you don’t respect me.
Another pause. Bacchus’s look remains cold and dark.
Jonathan Bacchus: Which on one hand, I don’t blame you for — when I entered this business three years ago, there were four wrestlers I admired: Dandy DeVito, Zombie McMorris, Adelaide Ainsworth…
A pause. A small swell from the smarks anticipating the next line, eliciting a smirk.
Jonathan Bacchus: … Lissie Hope.
A pause, his attention turning back to Corey Black.
Jonathan Bacchus: But I’ve grown from that time, and I’ve learned. Because in spite of those people who inspired me to enter this business, I saw who inspired me to continue in it: James and Atara Raven, Cholo Santana, Joey Flash — ALIAS, Bobby Cairo, Jay Omega — Alex Richards, Jeff Purse, Spencer Adams…
A long, lingering pause as a smirk creeps across Bacchus’s face, his voice dropping as he looks Corey dead in the eyes.
Jonathan Bacchus: …and you. The King of All Wrestlers, Corey Black. And maybe some of those names I listed ring hollow for the fans of this company, but this is for you: I know you remember every single one of them. That’s not a threat, Corey — thats a pedigree I’ve aspired to. But the gatekeeper to that ‘pantheon’ has been one guy who just… doesn’t… like me.
Corey Black leans back on the ropes, holding the microphone upside down. As Bacchus finishes, Corey bounces off a bit to a standing position, flipping the mic back to his mouth.
Corey Black: You know I hate doing this Johnny. Standing here, between these ropes, listening to the drivel coming from men that would be better suited throwing fists than throwing fits.
Corey once again begins pacing, looking down and not at Johnny.
Corey Black: Am I supposed to feel bad for you? All you want to be is revered, respected and admired. You already have that, Johnny. There's hordes of pro wrestlers that would love to test their mettle against you. Having you in the ranks of XWF is an absolute boon.
The crowd cheers, Corey puts up a finger and they stop.
Corey Black: But that's not enough. What IS enough, huh kid? I feel like I've watched you grow into the man you are and you've never once been satisfied with anything. I've seen you cultivate relationships with people that have done me so wrong, so absolutely terrible and still when asked, I answered the call to fight in the ranks against the greater evil but Johnny, please, fight from the bottom once again. Be that underdog you have to be to make it worth it for you. Always fighting for so much more than just yourself.. that's what made me who I am.
Johnny goes to speak but again, Corey raises a finger. Johnny hesitates.
Corey Black: So here I am, out here running my mouth instead of running my elbow through a skull just to tell you yeah, I do dislike you. I respect your accomplishments and your combat artistry but you, Johnny Bacchus? The man that can't cope with the fact that a career five times the length of his own is held in higher regard? I sure as hell can put my finger on it.
Johnny steps forward, his expression cold. Slowly, he raises the microphone.
Jonathan Bacchus: Well put your finger on this…
A pregnant pause falls between the men, that assured smirk falling from Johnny’s mouth as his lips curl into a snarl and his voice goes cold.
Jonathan Bacchus: What’s enough for me is this match — main event of XIII, something I couldn’t have dreamed of even three years ago. And it’s enough because I’ve watched you: James Raven, Dickie Watson, Matthew Knox, Chris Page — Corey Black undefeated against “the World”. So how appropriate the next phase of that is your backyard. And unfortunately that won’t be Dionysus.
A pause, as a sound reverberates through the crowd.
Jonathan Bacchus: That’s not a stray, that’s a fact. Yeah, Corey, I ain’t been around as a Knox or a Watson or a Driftwood or any of the other people I’ve watched you trip on yourself to co-sign, but I promise you this —
Bacchus lowers the mic for a moment, allowing the two to square up more.
Jonathan Bacchus: I’ll be the one. I’ll be the one that lays the first shot to your jaw in this match that makes you wish you’d co-sign’ed them two years ago. I’ll be the one who lets you take a moment to recover in the corner, gasping for breath as your mind reels for the first answer or strategy in a long time — the one who takes your elbow to the jaw, spits blood in your eyes, and demands another — the one walks through fire and flames to put his hands on your neck. I’ll be the one…
A pause, his face contorts with passion before he composes himself.
Jonathan Bacchus: …who shows you that Corey Black was ready for the world, but Corey Black was not ready for The World. And you can call that petulance, you can call it a fit, you can call it whatever, but when the bell rings at the end…
And finally, the smirk returns.
Jonathan Bacchus: …You’ll know to call it a “fuck up”. Good luck tonight, King — I mean that sincerely. You better win, and you better stay healthy because I don’t want a single excuse for when it happens. So watch your six, watch your back, watch whatever you have to — because I’ll see you at XIII.
Bacchus flicks the mic over his shoulder as “The Gnashing” hits, walking backwards before rolling over the top rope to the outside.
JC: And now the gauntlet has been thrown!
BG: We’re on the road to Relentless, but these two men have a detour! Are either gonna make it in one piece?
JC: That remains to be seen, but Corey Black challenged for the XWF Tag Team Championship alongside Sebastian Everett-Bryce later tonight! We’ll see what Pantheon has in store for the champions! Stay with us!
JC: We’re back here on Warfare and Brody, XIII, Corey Black’s hosted show looks to be incredible as we sit here today!
BG: That’s what I like about guys like Corey Black! He’s not content to simply be a professional wrestler! No, he’s got his eyes on bigger things and perhaps an avenue into life after he leaves the ring one day!
JC: That remains to be seen, but right now it’s time for more Warfare action as Dionysus, the man who pushed Jason Cashe to a draw two weeks ago, goes one on one with the debuting Aurora!
The lights dim as multiple spotlights rotate throughout the arena. As "Zenorus" begins to play, the spotlights all point to the stage, illuminating a velvet red curtain. As the orchestra dies down, vines creep from around the edges of the curtain, and rose petals begin to fall around the arena. Then, on the entrance of the choir in the music, the curtain is drawn open, revealing the imposing figure of Dionysus, holding a Thyrsus in his right hand and a shield on his left arm. He clashes the staff against his shield to rouse the crowd to clap with him, then roars, raising the Thyrsus above his head.
"Making his way to the ring, from Minneapolis MN, weighing in at 270 lbs; he is The Catalyst, DIONYSUS!"
Dionysus sets the Thyrsus and shield next to the ring apron and rolls inside, running to one of the turnbuckles and climbing up to rally the crowd behind him. He then hops down and limbers up, awaiting his opponent.
BG: Dio looks ready tonight baby, he had some strong words for his opponent tonight! The newcomer to XWF Aurora!
The lights in the arena go out and James Hetfield's opening vocals of Metallica's "The Memory Remains" blares over the public announce speakers. The lights and the big screen both stay completely black until the main guitar riff hits. A single word appears on the screen:
AURORA
Soon after a mako green spotlight shines down upon the stage where Aurora herself is now standing. She’s wearing a mask that covers her face in what looks like old, pitted cast iron. Her hands and wrists are taped in all black tape and her silver-colored hair is pulled back into a ponytail.
Ring Announcer: Making her way to the ring at this time, she hails from Arizona Bay. Ladies and Gentlemen, AURORA!
Aurora walks down to and around the ring with purpose, moving all of the way around to the southeast ring post before pulling herself up onto the ring apron. She centers herself on the apron and stands facing the crowd. Another glowing emerald spotlight shines straight down on her as laser-lights mimic the northern lights onto the ceiling of the arena. She pauses for a few moments staring up at them before turning and entering the ring.
Aurora
- vs -
Dionysus
-Traditional Rules-
|
The bell rings, echoing through the arena as Aurora and Dionstare each other down, tension filling the air.
Aurora, with her masked face and smaller stature, is cold, with a calculating presence. Dionysus, towering over her at 6'5", stands confident, his eyes locked on his opponent. Despite the size difference, Aurora shows no fear, her body coiled like a spring, ready to unleash.
They circle each other, the crowd buzzing with anticipation. Dionysus darts in first, his massive arms reaching out to grab Aurora, but she’s too quick.
She ducks under his grasp and delivers a lightning-fast Pele Kick, her foot snapping against the side of Dionysus's head.
Dio staggers, more surprised than hurt, and Aurora didn’t waste a second. She followed up with a leaping forearm, her full body weight driving into Dionysus's chest.
Dionysus stumbles back but quickly regains his footing. He shakes off the hits and lunges at Aurora again, this time catching her with a powerful Clothesline that nearly turns her inside out.
JC: A fierce shot by Dio there!
Aurora hits the mat hard, but she rolled with the impact, using the momentum to get back to her feet almost instantly.
Dionysus, sensing an opportunity, charges at her with a Big Boot, but Aurora sidesteps it, and with a quick turn, she hits a Spinning Heel Kick that connects squarely with Dionysus’s jaw. The giant wobbled, clearly feeling the cumulative effect of Aurora’s strikes. She pressed the advantage, running to the ropes and rebounding with a Flying Leg Lariat that takes Dionysus off his feet.
Aurora goes for the early cover!
1!
2!!
NO!
The crowd is on their feet, astonished at Aurora's ability to bring down the larger man.
BG: Aurora might’ve walkedin as an unknown to the XWF this evening, but she’s putting on an impressive audition!
Dionysus powers out at two, shoving her off with authority.
But Aurora springs to her feet and delivers a series of MMA knee strikes to Dionysus as he tries to rise.
The precision and speed of her strikes are brutal, each knee connecting with his ribs and head, keeping him grounded. She finished the flurry with a Step-up Enzugiri, the impact of her boot echoing through the arena as it smacked into Dionysus’s temple.
JC: She’s getting more impressive as the match goes on, and Dionysus is reeling right now!
Dion rolls out of the ring to gather himself, but Aurora is relentless. She sprints toward the ropes and launches herself through the bottom with a Baseball Slide, her feet connecting with Dionysus’s chest, blasting him back and following after him with a sweeping calf kick that takes the big man all the way down. The crowd is roaring as Dionysus crashes into the barricade.
Aurora, climbs back into the ring and quickly ascends the top turnbuckle.
She perches there, and as Dionysus slowly gets to his feet. As soon as he's up, Aurora leaps off the turnbuckle…
a Meteora!!!!
but Dionysus COUNTERS!!!
in a show of his incredible strength, he catches her mid-air. With a roar, he swings her around and plants her into the floor with a Spinebuster.
Dionysus, breathing heavily, rolls her back into the ring and covers.
The referee dropps to the mat
1!
2!!
but Aurora kicks out!!!
JUST BARELY!
Dionysus, looks shocked! But he’s not lettting up.
He drags her up by the arm and whips her into the corner. Aurora smacks against the turnbuckle!
Dionysus charges- looking to crush her with a Body Avalanche!
BUT Aurora dodges!
And Dionysus crashes chest-first into the turnbuckle. Aurora seizes the moment, jumping onto his back and locking in a Sleeper Hold. The crowd gasps as the much smaller Aurora clings to the massive frame of Dionysus, squeezing with all her might, trying to cut off his air supply.
Dionysus struggles, his arms flailing as he tries to shake her off, but Aurora’s grip tightens. His movements begin to slow as the hold takes effect, and he drops to one knee. The referee moves in, checking on Dionysus, raising his arm up…
IT FALLS!
The ref raises the arm a second time-
AGAIN IT FALLS!
His hand is lifted for a third time!
JC: My god this will be a shocking upset here, Brody!
BUT DIO STOPS THE THIRD FALL!
Dio roars to life! In a feat of sheer will, he powers to his feet, with Aurora still on his back, and throws himself backward, slamming her into the mat.
Both wrestlers lay on the canvas, breathing heavily, the crowd chanting for them to get up. Dionysus stirs first, pulling himself up with the ropes. Aurora, is dazed and rolls to the corner, using the turnbuckle to get to her feet.
Dionysus, has fire in his eyes, he pounces on Aurora, who was still trying to shake off the effects of the slam. He grabs her by the wrist and whips her across the ring, but Aurora reverses it, sending Dionysus into the ropes instead. As he rebounded, she went for another Spinning Heel Kick, but Dionysus ducked under it!
And when Aurora turned around, he hit her with a brutal Big Boot, sending her crashing to the mat! But he’s not going for the cover yet!
Dionysus doesn’t let up. He picks her up and lifts her onto his shoulders, positioning her for the Electric Chair Drop. The crowd roars in anticipation, but just as Dio goes to drop her, Aurora counters, flipping forward and turning it into a Hurricanrana that sends Dionysus crashing into the corner.
JC: An incredible counter!
Aurora, senses a victory! She runs to the opposite corner and then sprints across the ring, launching herself into a Meteora, driving both knees into Dionysus’s chest.
The impact is sickening, and Dion slumps to the mat, gasping for air. Aurora quickly climbs to the top rope, looking to finish him off with a Diving Knee Drop to the head. She leaps, but Dionysus rolled out of the way at the last second, leaving Aurora to crash knees-first into the mat.
Aurora’s face is etched in pain, as she clutches her knees, trying to stand, but Dionysus is staying on her. He pulls her up, locking her into a Hammerlock and driving her face first into the mat with a Facecrusher. Aurora’s goes limp. Dio pulls her up again, this time setting her up for something big!
JC: Brody, it looks like Dio is going to put this one away! He’s in full control!
Looking determined, Dionysus spins Aurora around and pulls her into a Ripcord, his massive arm crashing into her head with a Bull Hammer. The impact was devastating, and Aurora collapsed to the mat, her body motionless.
JC: DEFIED!
DIONYSUS COVERS!
1!
BG: IT’S OVER!
2!!
3!!!
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Aurora’s arm shoots up from the mat at the last second!
JC: I cannot believe she kicked out of that move!
BG: What a gutsy performance here tonight!
The crowd is in shock!
Dionysus sits up, running a hand through his hair, wondering what it would take to keep this woman down.
He slams his fist into the mat, ready to end this once and for all. Dionysus pulls Aurora up, her body limp and barely responding, and lifts her into position for the Anthestaria. With a roar, he leaps for the Lionsault Powerslam…
BUT AURORA SLIPS DOWN FOR A SMALL PACKAGE!
1!
2!!
DIO CAN’T BREAK FREE!!!
3!!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
DIO JUST BARELY ESCAPES!
JC: THAT WAS NEARLY THREE!
BG: I’M NOT SURE THAT IT WASN’T THREE!
Both spring to their feet and charge at one another!
Dio goes for a clothesline, BUT AURORA DUCKS UNDER HIS ATTACK AND RUNS FOR THE ROPES!
BUT NO! DIONYSUS TURNS BACK AND GRABS HER ARM
DEFIED!
THE BULL HAMMER CONNECTS FOR A SECOND TIME!
Dionysus immediately covers her, hooking the leg!
1!
2!!
3!!!
The crowd erupts in a thunderous ovation as Dionysus rolled off of Aurora, utterly spent, laying on the mat staring up at the lights, his chest heaving with each breath.
JC: An incredibly close match! The width-of-a-needle was the difference between victory and defeat for Aurora, a very impressive debut for her!
BG: But Dionysus pulls it out by the skin of his teeth!
The camera pans over a little placard on a desk that reads ‘Theo Pryce, XWF COO’...
Theo Pryce sits at his desk at his computer.
…He’s shifting items in a spreadsheet, generating pie charts off of percentages of food and beverage sales… Typical COO stuff.
He briefly minimizes the spreadsheet to open up a pdf on his desktop, regarding the ticket sales that evening (another sold out show, yaaaaaay).
…
And his eyes linger on his desktop background.
A beach bungalow, sitting alone on a tiny island.
…Theo’s eyes linger on it.
Suddenly, his desk phone rings!
Theo’s hand shifts across its handle as he scoops it into the air.
“Theo Pryce spe-”
…Or he *would* scoop the phone in the air…
Unfortunately, someone unfastened all the tiny screws in his deskphone and the moment he lifts it, the previously assembled unit, comprised of electronic components and rubber buttons, falls apart like a jenga tower.
…Theo looks disturbed, as in his hand is just the plastic top of the phone.
On the inside of it is a ‘sticky note’...
Quote:RACHE
…
Theo’s brow scrunches in confusion, eyeing the scrawl.
”...Rache?”
”It’s ‘Revenge’ in German.”
Theo double-takes shocked at the voice’s source!
”Flynn?!?”
…Flynn is sitting upside down on Theo’s couch. Feet in the air resting against the wall, head dangling off the seat’s edge.
”The Bastards have a weird German streak. If you hang out with Bobby too long, he will start pitching you his idea for a fast food schnitzel restaurant. Which, I mean, it’s a good idea, but also, stop distracting the guy circumcising our son with your elevator pitch.”
…
”What?” Theo blinks.
Thwip! In the split-second it took for Theo to blink, Flynn zipped across the office, peeled the sticky note off and held up to Theo’s face.
”YOU pissed off the Bastards.”
…Theo grimaces.
”Yes. I’d been made aware of that.”
”Well? Whatcha do?”
”That’s the problem, actually. I don’t know what I did. And asking them only makes them angrier.”
Flynn chuckles as he grabs a lime fruit chew out of Theo’s desk candy dish.
”Awwwww, I feel so sowwy for the poor sanitarium warden that the madhouse tenants are being mean to him…” Flynn mocks, as he untwists the paper wrapping and pops it in his mouth.
…Theo sneers at Flynn’s dismissive, harsh rebuke.
”So! Got a plan to figure out their deal? Or are you just going to accept being their Ashton Kutcher Punk’d punching bag?”
…Theo exhales.
”Well, I assigned Tommy Gunn, our head of security, to investigate… Dig up the intel so I can apologize the way they’d like.”
…
Flynn tries to stifle a chuckle… And fails.
”And… What’s Plan B?”
Theo’s brow scrunches, confused.
”Why would I need a…?”
Theo’s cell phone buzzes.
…He pulls it out of his pocket…
…
Theo sighs.
”Ah. Gunn was injured in his match with Bacchus… And has been hospitalized for the remainder of the show.”
”Kinda on you, Ted.”
…
”You keep booking your HEAD OF SECURITY on the wrestling card.”
…
”Just saying, if you booked the head of catering on the card every week? He breaks his neck, people aren’t getting their fruit plates and finger sandwiches!”
Flynn loudly sucks his lime candy as Theo stews frustratedly.
”So, again… Plan B?”
…
Theo puzzles and puzzles… Staring at the ceiling in thought…
…
Until his gaze slowly drops down… toward Flynn, sucking on a candy in his office.
”Say, Mark. Could y-”
”HARD PASS.”
Flynn spits his lime candy on Theo’s carpet.
…
Theo is disgusted with Flynn’s manners, but persists.
”C’mon, if anyone can take on the Bastards in a battle of wits? It’s Mark Flynn, isn’t it?”
Flynn pshes, waving that away.
”It’s not ‘wits’ when it comes to the Bastards. I could play chess with a pigeon… The pigeon’s too stupid to know the moves and all I’m going to get is bird shit on my game board.”
…Theo smiles, trying to press Flynn’s buttons in the typical way…
“C’mon, Mark! Are you scaaaaaaaared of Bobby and T-”
SLAM! Flynn whips his fists against Theo’s desk, drawing his nose against the XWF COO’s schnozz.
…
“Teddy. I’ma make this very, VERY clear.”
"There's something about The Bastards. It’s a goddamned scientific phenomenon. Like the Bermuda Triangle. The sort of thing science can’t even look at because humans don’t have the tools to look directly into the mouth of madness.”
…
“But, I swear to god, there’s something wrong with Bobby Bourbon. And me. In the same space.”
“...What? Bobby?”
“When he and I share a room, everyone drops 50 IQ points! The world gets topsy-turvy! I can walk through a hallway with my goddamned annual tax documents in my hand, pass Bobby, and somehow, what I WAS holding has become a banana-cream pie, with the original magna carta from the year TWELVE-FIFTEEN baked into its crust."
“Bobby is a goddamned cryptid! Like the Sasquatch! Or The Jersey Devil! Or the Third Olsen Triplet! The one they keep locked at Area 51!”
”Oh, c’mon. It’s not that bad!”
"Y'know how in Daffy Duck cartoons, Daffy is the smart clever one? But, when Bugs Bunny is also there, Daffy becomes the goddamned punchline? Bobby is Bugs Bunny. And the rest of us on the goddamned planet are Daffy Duck."
Flynn turns his back to Theo.
”No goddamn chance. No goddamned way.”
…
Theo puts his hands in front of his mouth.
”What do you want for it?”
…
”You’re not in my office for idle chatter, Flynn. You want something right?”
”Whatever it is? Do this thing for me and it’s yours.”
…
Flynn exhales…
”Goddamit.”
Before grabbing a fistful of lime candy from Theo’s jar.
”Let’s go.”
JC: We’re back here on Warfare and it looks like we’re backstage with former Universal champion and current tag team title challenger, Sebastian Everett-Bryce!
Backstage, SEB pounds on the dressing room door and attempts to open it to no avail. XWF officials join the party to attempt to unlock it.
JC: What’s… what’s going on?
BG: I have it on good authority, Jacuinde, that Corey Black is stuck in the Pantheon locker room behind that door!
JC: What if he doesn’t get out!?
At this moment, Warfare Executive Director Thaddeus Duke shows up on the scene, soon followed by a close personal friend of both SEB and Thad in UGWC great, Lucy Wylde.
”What’s going on?”
”The knob is busted,” says the head XWF official.
”And the key is snapped off inside the deadbolt.”
”This has got to be the champions playing tricks,” said SEB.
”I’m willing to do this alone, but I do have a friend here that always has my back.”
Thaddeus ponders a moment.
”No,” Thad replied.
”I’d love to team with you again, but I have no intention of competing on the show I’m point man of, but…”
Almost simultaneously, SEB and Thad turn their heads toward Lucy Wylde.
”Wait, me!?”
”I could think of no one better,” Thad said in an attempt to gas her up.
”Way better than Thad.”
Thad turned his head to SEB.
”Really? That hurts.”
”What do you say, Lucy? Help me out?”
”Let’s do it!”
SEB and Lucy Wylde begin making their way out of the scene as they head towards Gorilla.
JC: Oh my!
BG: She’s a pretty one. I wonder if she and…
JC: She is, but we have an impromptu promotion versus promotion showdown on our hands! Sebastian Everett-Bryce and Lucy Wylde are collectively known as the Empire of Calamity in UGWC! They’re their reigning tag team champions!
BG: So… what you’re sayin’ is that the XWF tag team champions are defending against the UGWC tag team champions tonight on Warfare!?
JC: That’s exactly what I’m saying!
Meanwhile backstage, Corey Black, trapped behind the locker room door, pounds furiously on the door.
”Corey!” Thad yells.
”We got Lucy Wylde tagging with SEB tonight so he’s not on his own. Just sit tight brother! We’ll get you out of there!”
”Sit tight!? SIT TIGHT!? …. Wait, Lucy?”
”Yeah!”
”Okay, I’ll sit tight.”
JC: Ned Kaye and Mark Flynn defend the tag team titles against the Empire of Calamity! NEXT on Warfare!
JC: Hey, who’s that in the center of the ring?
BG: That looks like… UGWC’s exclusive ring announcer, Mitchell Dennis!
Standing in the center of the ring is, in fact, UGWC official ring announcer, Mitchell Dennis, who raises his microphone to his lips!
MD: Entering first! The REIGNING and DEFENDING UNIFIED GLOBAL WRESTLING COALITION COOPERATIVE CHAMPIONS...
The arena goes black. The opening chords of "Undead" by Hollywood Undead blare over the Arena PA system. One by one, spotlights around the arena begin fading in and out, alternating between a bright white and deep purple tones. As the bass line kicks into its highly recognized bone jarring chorus the spotlights sync their flashing with the rhythm. Suddenly the spotlights all turn at once, illuminating the stage in a brilliant flash and a radiating glow. Lucy Wylde steps out from behind the curtain onto center stage just as the crowd begins to cheer and sing along with the song...
UNDEAD!!!!!
UNDEAD!!!!!
UNDEAD!!!!!
UNDEAD!!!!!
Her music suddenly stops as she stands at the top of the stage staring into the ring.
MD: And her PARTNER…
The lights in the arena dip to black in time with the sirens and beat to the opening of Sweatpants (BattleTapes Remix) by Childish Gambino, the lights then beginning to flash, alternating left and right onto the ramp. In time, the letters "S", "E", "B", and then "Empire" flash one at a time on the big screen until the lights stop flashing as the lyrics hit.
"She askin' “Why you say that?!”
The beat drops and the lights flash on the rampway again. As they do, the screen illuminates with "SEB" and then "EMPIRE" flashing on the sceen.
"Rich kid asshole, paint me as a villain"
Sebastian Everett-Bryce flings his arms wide, staring up with his head covered by the hood of his jacket. He stands in the middle of the ramp, the lights beating down on him, before looking out at the crowd. He wears a long jacket with the hood pulled up over his head, zipped to the waist. The jacket, which is cut away at the bottom and only runs down the back of his legs, is patterned with an elongated Union Flag, but it’s in black and white and appears to be cracked and broken. His tights are short, with the initials SEB emblazoned upon the front.
The lights lift, and SEB nods at Lucy. The two make their way to the ring. Seb stretches his neck from side to side as he walks, his eyes focused on the ring. They climb up the steps and step through the ropes before standing in the middle of the ring.
"I'm winnin', yeah, yeah, I'm winnin' (What?)
Rich kid, asshole, paint me as a villain"
He extends his arms once more as Lucy stands in front of him making the same pose. Seb pulls back his hood and removes his jacket to reveal the back of his tights which read “S.E.B”
"Don't be mad cause I'm doing me better than you doing you
Better than you doing you, fuck it, what you gon' do? (What?!)"
He flashes his arms out to a side, a satisfied and somewhat sneery grin upon his face, he holds the position for a moment, to allow the crowd to take pictures, before moving towards his corner.
MD: Ladies and gentlemen, here are THE UGWC Cooperative Champions… The EMPIRE of CALAMITY! LUCY WYLDE and SEBASTIAAAAAAN EVERERTTTT-BRYYYYYCE!!!!
Mitchell Dennis drops the microphone and exits the ring… And the arena, having done his job.
JC: Wow! Quite an entrance and quite a message from the UGWC Cooperative Champions! Do NOT treat them like the challengers tonight! They are NOT the underdogs! They are champions in their own right!
https://youtu.be/YnzgdBAKyJo?si=_mM-qyFCW56hhkz6
Ned Kaye stands at the point where the spotlights merge to thunderous boos. He lifts his fist up in the air, raising his Universal title, awaiting the crowd to do the same with their fists… They only rain down more anger and fury!
JC: This is NOT the response Ned Kaye is used to receiving! This crowd is definitely letting the Notorious One know he’s not in their corner!
BG: Can you blame them, Jack? Ned cashed in his 24/7 briefcase to rob SEB of the Universal Title!
JC: Ned survived the Leap of Faith match and came away with the 24/7 briefcase! He used it later that night to score his second reign with the Universal Title! And, obviously, the XWF Universe is not happy about it!
Emerging from the black curtain behind Kaye… Mark Flynn! Wearing his custom bomber jacket… He spins around to reveal to the crowd… Along the back, it reads ‘KING OF THE MIDCARDERS’. EVEN MORE BOOS!
BG: Considering this is an XWF show, it is surprising how hard the home crowd is booing THEIR XWF Tag-Team Champions!
Ned looks around the arena, delivering a thousand-mile stare… As a sold-out capacity crowd boos, it’s clear he’s not used to this.
…When in front of his face, he sees a fist. From Mark Flynn.
Kaye glances at it. Flynn shakes it, giving him a nod. Kaye nods back and bumps it.
The duo rush down to the ring, serenaded by blue hues that light up the ramp following their steps. The lights above the stadium darken in their blue color as Ned gets closer to the ring, little bits of ember adorning the X-Tron and ramp, orange breaking up the blue.
JC: Flynn may not have won the tag-title with Ned Kaye… But, somehow, while Prince Adeyemi… does whatever he’s doing that isn’t defending his belt… But! Flynn has served his role as a substitute excellently! Flynn and Ned defended the tag-titles last Warfare against American Storm…
BG: But this week, the difficulty level has skyrocketed! SEB won his last match against Flynn… AND he ended Ned’s first Universal Title run… And while he was originally scheduled to compete alongside his Pantheon partner, Corey Black… He’s now getting to team-up alongside his long-term UGWC fellow title-holder, Lucy Wylde!
JC: Flynn and Ned are going to have pull out every stop in the book if they want to escape with their championship gold tonight!
Kaye leaps over the ropes into the ring before looking down, breathing the moment in, and pointing out at the crowd, ready to fight just with their energy alone. Flynn bends his knees, stretching his 45-year old limbs, like he’s gonna try to replicate Kaye’s aerial leap… Then just gently rolls himself under the bottom rope.
Jumping a bit from the adrenaline, Kaye makes his way to his team’s corner as he prepares for the bell. Flynn has his sights set on SEB in the opposing team’s corner, laser-focused on his opponent.
Before the match even starts, the crowd is on their feet, absolutely electric as the official takes the… single tag belt from Mark Flynn.
JC: Only one tag belt, as Prince Adeyemi is currently running around with Ned Kaye’s… Flynn actually handing over the belt that belongs to Prince Adeyemi.
BG: No one was anticipating a crossover match of such epic proportions! But, now that’s here, they’re absolutely ECSTATIC!
Wylde hops out of the Empire corner, itching to throw hands… Flynn cracks his neck, left and right, before jogging to the center of the ring to meet her!
JC: Flynn’s a big pre-match prepper… You have to imagine he watched a lot of game tape for Corey Black to prepare for this one… How do you think he’ll handle such a big change from a Deathmatch scrapper like Black to a High-Flyer like Wylde?
BG: Flynn’s wrestled a number of luchadors, luchadoras, and cruisers over his lengthy career, Jack! But, I can also tell you, there’s only one Lucy Wylde on the planet!
The bell rings!
XWF Tag Team Championship
Ned Kaye & Mark Flynn ©
- vs -
Sebastian Everett-Bryce & Corey Black Lucy Wylde
-Traditional Tag Team Rules-
|
Wylde and Flynn briefly circle-step around each other, arms in the air, trying to intuit what they can from their opponents in movement…
Suddenly, Wylde and Flynn go for a collar-and-elbow tie-up! And Flynn… No! Wylde quickly secures her opponent into a side headlock!
JC: Wow! Flynn is a chain-wrestling marvel! And Wylde takes a brief advantage in their first exchange!
Wylde clinches her grip around Flynn’s head, forcing him to bend down at the waist…
Flynn plants a hand on her back… And shoves her toward the ropes!
Wylde bounces off the ropes, Flynn bends at the waist, looking for a back body drop…
But Wylde spins mid-run, backflips OVER Flynn and lands behind The King of the Midcarders!?!
The crowd audibly woos!
JC: Now, THAT is an athlete!
BG: THAT is WYLDE!
…Flynn, realizing the crowd is not wooing for his technique “bending at the waist”, raises himself up… No opponent…
He turns around… And there’s Lucy Wylde, waving behind him… Flynn is taken aback shocked! He swings with a right hand…
Wylde ducks it…
AND snags Flynn’s head into another side headlock!
JC: Wow! Lucy Wylde running an absolute how-to guide in the early going on how to fool Mark Flynn!
Wylde wrenches the side headlock in a twisting motion, placing tension on Flynn’s spine…
Flynn places a hand on Wylde’s back…
Wylde gets ready for another trips toward the ropes…
BUT, Flynn rotates as he shoves, instead pushing Wylde into the champions’ corner!
JC: Wylde does not want to end up there, lot of opportunities for tandem attacks in the corner!
Flynn WHIPS Wylde into the Kaye-Flynn corner, then immediately comes in behind her, looking to crush Wylde against the turnbuckle…
Wylde wall runs up the turnbuckle and backflips over Flynn! Wylde forward rolls when she hits the mat, diving into her corner and tagging SEB!
WYLDE! WYLDE! WYLDE!
JC: An impressive first foray into the XWF by Lucy Wylde!
Flynn fumes angrily, as SEB steps between the ropes, entering the action. Flynn starts to ch-
WHAP! Flynn gets a slap on his back as the Universal Champion tags himself in!
And the boos come down! Though are quickly replaced by woos anticipation!
BG: Oh my! We’re getting a preview of what will certainly be the main event of XWF’s biggest show of the year!
Both men lock up! Seb and Ned engage in a test of strength, neither man gaining any advantage on the other! Seb feints to slip behind Ned, but Ned’s footwork prevents it.
Ned smoothly continues the momentum into an attempt at an Irish whip. Seb slides to a knee, holding Ned in a headlock. Seb stands and transitions to a hammerlock. Ned transitions to an arm wrench. Ned doubles the arm wrench!
BG: Two masters of the ring!
Seb rolls forward, reversing the second arm wrench, spins on his back reversing the first arm wrench then kips up, throwing an arm drag to Ned!
JC: Very impressive! Though, somehow, familiar…
Ned rolls through, holding the arm, back to his feet, springboards off the second rope, coming back with a forearm! Seb catches Ned, and counters with an exploder suplex! Ned flips over and lands on his feet, shooting off the ropes!
JC: Wait! This is the exact sequence these two opened with at March Madness!
On the rebound Seb hits the mat flat as Ned bounds over him into the other ropes! Ned shoots back and Seb leapfrogs him! Ned catches himself at the ropes and looks back at Seb, who charges! Ned ducks, tugging the top rope, sending Seb keeling ass over teakettle outside! Seb catches the top rope himself, and lands on his feet on the apron! Seb with a right! Ned blocks, and throws a right of his own! Seb blocks! Seb hooks Ned, and goes to suplex him to the arena floor! NO! Ned powers out and back to his feet, and he suplexes Seb inside the ring! NO! Seb lands on his feet, and grasps Ned’s neck for a neck breaker! Ned pivots the hold to a front facelock, but hoists Seb! Seb grabs the top rope and pulls himself off Ned! Seb with a standing side elbow to Ned! Ned ducks! Ned with a kneeling side elbow to Seb, Seb sidesteps! Seb with a snap superkick to Ned! Ned deflects Seb’s left foot, sending it over the middle rope, leaving Seb straddling the middle rope! Ned to his Feet! Seb holds the top rope, and swings both feet up and over the middle rope, a standing planted side dropkick to Ned! NO! Ned cartwheels back.
The former and current universal champion keep their backs to each other, circling the ring dispassionately as the crowd goes absolutely bonkers!
JC: One thing is clear, Brody! Ned and SEB are both very good at what they do!
BG: I think they both entered that sequence to see if they could catch or surprise the other, and once again, each countered the other’s every move to perfection!
The two clinch again! SEB latches onto Ned’s arm, looking for an arm drag… Ned keeps his footing, and goes to drag SEB! SEB forward-rolls through the air, landing on his feet near the champion’s corner…
Ned charges in, looking for a clothesline… SEB ducks and wraps Ned in a side headlock!
Ned goes to lift Everett-Bryce into a back suplex… But Everett-Bryce hooks his grip around the top rope, leveraging himself back to the mat.
BG: That first sequence was ballet! This one’s looking a little more like a drunken slow dance!
JC: Both these men clearly frustrated to be dealing with such a talented opponent, and ready to take control! But neither man wants to give it!
The official reaches in to get Kaye and Everett-Bryce away from the ropes…
WHAM! From the apron, Flynn launches a kick through the ropes straight into Everett-Bryce’s ribs…
Wylde howls at the referee to look at what’s going on… But the time he’s looked up, Flynn has slipped his boot back outside the ring and onto the apron!
JC: Sneak attack behind the official’s back!
BG: Vintage Mark Flynn! This here is why he’s a 4-or-5-time tag-team champion, depending on if this reign counts!
Everett-Bryce seethes, as his hand releases the rope… And Ned, still in a side headlock, delivers a back suplex, dumping SEB onto his shoulder blades!
JC: I don’t think Ned saw what Flynn did there! But, he felt SEB’s grip slip and instinctively attacked!
Ned shakes his head, pleased to get a little offense on SEB, when Flynn slaps his partner’s back, tagging himself in!
JC: Mark Flynn clearly eager to swoop and attack now that his opponent is off his feet!
SEB quickly tries to scramble to a vertical base as Flynn wraps his arm in a wrist lock, twisting Everett-Bryce’s wrist in the air.
”CALL ME A COWARD, HUH?!?”
WHAM! Flynn drives an axe kick straight into the back of Everett-Bryce’s skull, dropping him to his knees!
BG: Flynn clearly took some of what SEB said about him before Leap of Faith to heart, Jayce!
JC: Yup, attacking SEB behind his back definitely proves Flynn isn’t a coward, Brody *sarcasm*
Flynn peels Everett-Bryce off the mat, wrapping him in a waist lock… He leans back, seeking a release German suplex! Flynn HURLS Everett-Bryce through the air!
…
But SEB lands on his feet!
BG: Wow! Amazing athleticism!
SEB cranks his neck as Flynn beckons applause towards himself with both hands…
The crowd cheers but not the reason Flynn thinks!
Flynn turns around…
AND IS SHOCKED TO FIND HIMSELF FACE-TO-FACE WITH SEBASTIAN EVERETT-BRYCE!
JC: Flynn looks like he’s seen a ghost here!
Flynn turns tail to get back to his corner, but SEB latches Flynn into a waist lock of his own! And tears off a…
RELEASE GERMAN SUPLEX!
Flynn flies through the air, landing on the back of his neck in the Empire corner!
JC: Now Flynn is in no-man’s land!
Flynn woozily rises from the corner… As SEB wraps Flynn in a wrist lock, then raises his other hand to tag Lucy Wy-…
WHAM! Flynn launches an elbow backwards over his shoulder, catching SEB in the eye! SEB reels backward in pain.
Wylde yells at the official about illegal stri-
Flynn shoves his face over the top rope and BITES LUCY WYLDE’S NOSE!
JC: Oh my God!
BG: Not the first time we’ve seen Flynn bite! Though, Lucy would be size to get shots… Welcome to the XWF!
Shocked, and slightly bleeding from her face, Lucy backs off the apron, as Flynn spits the little blood in his mouth into the FRONT ROW over the ropes!
WYYYYYYYYYYYLDE!” Flynn screeches, delighted at his sick joke!
BG: This is why we should give the first few rows a tarp. Y’know, like a Gallagher show.
Flynn spins around as SEB works his way back to his feet… Drives his head under SEB’s shoulder… AND LAUNCHES HIM THROUGH THE AIR! BRIDGING NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX!
Lucy rubs her face clean and rolls under the bottom rope!
JC: Lucy possibly looking to break up a pin attempt here…
As Flynn backward rolls, still latching onto SEB’s waist to tear off a *second* Northern Lights Suplex…
BG: No pin attempt, the official is going to usher Wylde back to her corner…
The official indeed steps up to usher Wylde back to her corn-
Wylde slides between the official’s legs… AND RUNNING KNEES FLYNN straight across the face!
Flynn rolls on the other side of the ring, under the bottom rope to the padded concrete outside! …And Lucy Wylde just chases him under the ropes, mounting him, launching more punches!
[white]BG: Wow! Wylde may have infuriated Flynn in the opening, but Flynn has driven Wylde into a blind fury!
JC: Flynn certainly has that effect on people.
SEB tries to work his way up to his feet from the mat, as Ned hops off the apron to try and break up Lucy Wylde launching a vicious series of mounted strikes onto Flynn’s he-...
Suddenly, from under the ring, Prince Adeyemi bursts out, microphone in hand! Ned is taken by surprise!
BG: Oh God! Not this again!
Adeyemi slams the microphone into Ned’s head, hunching his partner over…
JC: What is Adeyemi trying to do here? Is he attacking his partners for leaving him out of this title defense? Or is he getting a DQ so Ned and Flynn retain their belts?
BG: Prince’s motives are as incomprehensible as his moves are devastating!
Adeyemi rushes, seeking to drop Ned with a knee to the skull, just like last Warfare… But Ned side-steps! Adeyemi’s knee catches air… As Ned scoops him into the air… SPINEBUSTER SLAM ONTO THE PADDED CONCRETE!
…SEB is back on his feet against the ropes as he sees Ned slam somebody against the outside of the ring…
Adeyemi slides back under the apron under the ring… As Ned slowly rises to his fe-
SEB charges, running through the ropes, taking Ned out with a dive through the ropes, dropping the Universal Champion!
JC: Oh my God! I think SEB might’ve thought Ned was attacking his partner Lucy on the outside!
BG: Or he just saw an opportunity to attack Ned and took it!
Wylde launches a right! A second! A third! Into Flynn’s face, while she still bleeds from hers! She reels back ag-
Flynn kicks her in the ribs! Wylde spins off, as Flynn disappears under the apron himself… Wylde, still furious, throws up the apron to go aft-
WHAM! Adeyemi charges out from under the apron! Surprising Wylde! He clips Wylde with a running knee to the skull! Wylde drops flat on her back!
JC: Who was Prince even trying to attack there? Wylde? Flynn?
BG: Impossible to say! But he got Wylde good!
Adeyemi stares down at Wylde… perplexed. It’s possible he doesn’t even know who he just hit…
As Flynn springs from behind the Kingslayer with a kendo stick! Now, it’s Adeyemi’s turn to be surprised! WHACK! Straight across the face, dropping him onto his back!
BG: Could this match get anymore chaotic!?!
“ONE!”
“TWO!”
KERASSSSSSSH!
A battering ram beats a door completely off its hinges…
And who steps out…
BUT KING OF THE DEATHMATCH! COREY BLACK!
BG: Oh my! SEB’s original tag partner in this match, Corey Black, has been unleashed!
JC: And it looks like he’s still in a mood to throw hands!
Black runs through the halls, heading for the ring!
Ned and SEB are currently brawling around the ring, trading right hands… Kicks… Desperately striking at each other!
Meanwhile, Adeyemi has turned the tables… now choking Flynn with his own kendo stick!
When…
FROM OUTTA NOWHERE!
Wylde leaps off the apron aaaaaaaaaand…
WYLDE LIBERATION ONTO PRINCE ON THE OUTSIDE!
Prince’s skull gets driven into the padded concrete, as Wylde scrambles off the gr-
WHAM! Flynn boots Wylde in the ribs…
Backbreacker!
CROSS RHODES!
Logical Conclusion ON THE OUTSIDE!
…
SEB clotheslines Ned over the outside railing… AND leaps over the railing to take this brawl into the XWF Universe!
…Flynn grabs Wylde by the scruff of the neck…
As Black charges down the ramp!
THE CROWD ERUPTS!
Flynn, hearing the electric crowd, spins around…
As Corey Black catches him with a SPINNING ELBOW STRIKE TO THE BACK OF THE SKULL!
SACRIFICE TO MIMIR! Flynn drops like a sack of potatoes!
The official, seeing no road to getting this match back on track… Calls for the bell!
BG: It's absolute pandemonium out here, JC! These six people are brawling all over the arena as we speak!
JC: Let's... uh... we're cutting to commercial here, folks! Hopefully, when you come back, some semblance of order will have been restored!
JC: Were back here LIVE on Warfare and Brody, we just saw an epic tag team title match that unfortunately had no definitive conclusion! One that saw Corey Black sequestered…
**Static**
“It's just the”
**Static**
Once again sitting at his desk, a slightly disheveled Antw’an Swisher runs his hand through his hair.
“So many emails. So many people were upset that I didn’t pick their favorite for the first induction.” Antw’an slams his hands on the desk. “Listen. Someone had to be first but that doesn’t take away anything from the rest of the field.”
Antw’an sighs and shuffles some papers on the desk.
“Listen, this isn’t easy for me at all. Do you have any idea how many qualified people there are for a position like this? How many legends and yet I have the distinct job to only pick a handful? And that’s no mention of the time frame. Relentless is just a few weeks away and I still have to come up with at least three more people that embody what it truly means to be XWF.”
Swisher flips through the papers and pulls out two. He holds both of them up to the camera.
“Take these two for example.”
He holds the left one up first.
“The Brand. That’s it. That’s all it should take for all of you to understand. Should he have been first? Maybe. Is he in the running? Of course. You don’t have a legacy like him and just disappear. You have your name brought up in a million different what if scenarios.”
Antw’an sets that paper down and holds up the one on the right.
“Then there’s Jayzon Williams. The OG’s OG. Before the XWF was a household name, he was the household name. And then he came back time and time again, just to prove that you can’t stop his hustle. You can’t keep him down.”
Antw’an begins to rapid fire holding up paper after paper and tossing them one by one.
“John Gambino.”
“Epic.”
“Stark Deacon.”
“Justin Greenwood.”
“Clowns-R-Us.”
“Killjoy.”
“Rage.”
“Star.”
“Raven.”
“Gator.”
“Doc.”
Antw’an hangs his head.
“Do you all see what I’m going through just to try and get this right? I haven’t seen my kids in weeks. My girlfriend for real thinks I’m cheating on her. The days are just blending together at this point. The only thing keeping me going is Celsius and adderall.”
He shuffles through all the papers, and holds up one last piece.
“F*** it. I can’t win. No one is going to agree with me. Everyone has their own opinions. Here’s the next Hero.”
The camera cuts to the stage. Standing there is the statue of Steve Jason. Next to it is another statue covered with a cloth.
3!
2!
1!
CENTURION!
The tron plays highlights and lowlights from the course of his illustrious career. Winning the now defunct Canadian title over and over again. Holding the World title over his head. And the losses he’s had along the way trying to capture something that he can never. The crowd explodes and continues through the entire vignette, and the camera once again quickly cuts to Antw’an.
“So there you have it. Centurion. Now he may not be as notable as The Brand. Or as revered as others, but when the best of the best lists start… he’s always near the top. He has fought being called boring and uninspired only to carve out his lane. Though he cannot reach the peak… maybe the peak needs to reach him.”
Antw’an begins to gather the papers into a neat stack.
“Until next week. Keep your feet on the ground and keep reaching for the stars. Who knows maybe next time you’ll be the next XWF Hero.”
**Static**
“Beginning.”
**Static**
JC: Another Warfare, another sort of cryptic message from this Antw’an fella!
BG: Those names he mentions, all of them are in the Hall of Legends!
JC: What he’s getting at, I don’t know.
BG: Maybe we’ll find out by the time we get to Relentless next month!
JC: We’re back here on Warfare and folks, up next, it may not be for the faint of heart!
BG: The sooper big man Thaddeus Duke has now gaslit his hired terminator that kinda sucks at the actual art of wrestling into taking on his estranged wife!
JC: While I wouldn’t put it in those exact words, your allegations aren’t entirely without merit! With that in mind, we go backstage to Steve Sayors who plans to get a word with Sahara before tonight’s match. Steve?
Backstage, Sahara is making her way through the corridors and comes face to face with backstage correspondent Steve Sayors.
”Sahara! Sahara! A quick word?” Sayors requests.
”Make it quick, Scott,” she replies as she comes to a stop beside him.
”I have an ass whooping to get to.”
”It’s Steve, but anyway… First, I wanted to get your thoughts on what we saw two weeks ago as your estranged husband was seen going into the hotel room of a scantily clad Misty Waters. What’s your reaction to that?”
BG: Ohhh damn! Starts right off with a tough one! Someone give that man a raise!
”It appears that intra-office relations are not frowned upon in the XWF,” Sahara began her reply.
”Estranged as we may be, he is still my husband and as business savvy as he normally is, he’s also still a complete imbecile that only thinks with his dick.
“He doesn’t even realize what he’s opened himself up to for the sake of sleeping with that cunt Waters.”
JC: Ooof. Harsh words from the White Widow!
BG: Harsh, maybe, but not incorrect!
”Tonight, you’re one on one with Cyrus Braddock,” Sayors continues on.
”How do you feel going into this match knowing it was your own son that demanded his father, your husband, make this contest?”
JC: Wow.
Sahara takes a deep breath. The color in her face appears to drain quickly as her demeanor changes when suddenly she pushes past Steve Sayors and continues in toward Gorilla.
”There you have it, guys! A non-answer from Sahara concerning the very personal turmoil that the Duke family finds themselves in. Jacuinde? Brody? Back to you at ringside.”
BG: Nice job Steve!
JC: Well, I don’t know if I would say that prying into Sahara’s personal life is exactly a nice job, but nevertheless he did ask some tough and important questions that are lingering on the minds of the XWF Universe!
BG: She needs to write a tell-all!
RA: The following contest is set for ONE FALL! Introducing first!
RA: From Chicago, Illinois… the WHIIIITE WIDOWWW…. SAAAHARAAAAA!
it seems strange that my life should end
in such a terrible place…
As the lights dim, fog slowly rolls over the stage as if emanating from a dark beyond. The random sounds of a radio tuning through various stations floats over the arena as bright white lights suddenly shine up from beneath the stage, bathing the entryway in an angelic glow.
ADRENALIZE ME
As the hard-hitting beat of In This Moment’s ‘Adrenalize Me’ begins pumping through the arena, The White Widow, Sahara Duke emerges through the ghostly fog...
COME A LITTLE BIT CLOSER
BEFORE WE BEGIN
LEMME TELL YOU HOW I WANT IT
AND EXACTLY WHAT I NEED
As Sahara moves toward the center of the rampway, her rows of platinum braids shine from within the shadows. Clad in black and white attire, her one of her boots is emblazoned with the word White, and the other Widow. Her jaw is clenched tight, and her face etched with a permanent scowl of condescension. She slowly turns her gaze toward the fans before locking eyes on the squared circle...
I'M HERE FOR ONE DRUG
I'M ONLY HERE FOR ONE THING
SO COME ON AND TELL ME
CAN YOU FLY LIKE YOU'RE FREE?
As the music continues to tell her tangled tale, she slowly begins making her way down the aisle and enters the ring, sitting on the top turnbuckle with a leg wrapped around the top rope.
JC: Say what you will about the White Widow! Sahara is an incredibly good performer!
BG: She is and she downplays it mostly!
JC: She often does sell herself short, but I know anyone that has been in the ring with her no doubt finds out the truth of the matter in short order! Sahara is very good at this stuff!
RA: Her opponent! From Memphis, Tennessee weighing 305 pounds… CYRUSSSS BRRRRADDOCCCCK!
As the drum beat starts up for Animal Magnetism, Cyrus Braddock steps out from behind the curtain. Stopping just beyond Gorilla, he surveys the crowd a moment before throwing up his arms and yelling something unintelligible. On the way down the aisle, his stride matches the drum beat as he looks over the nearby members of the Universe. Every now and then, he'll exchange a fist bump with a cheering fan.
Once at ringside, he wastes very little time in climbing the steps to the apron before stepping over the top rope and into the ring. Once in the ring, he faces the hard camera and waves his right hand in a "T" pattern, exciting a cheering favored mixed reaction from the Universe.
JC: Big Cy Braddock!
BG: Last week, Sahara urged the big man to think for himself! She urged him to stop allowing her estranged husband Thaddeus Duke, warp his mind!
JC: I don’t think that’s what’s going on here, Brody! Nevertheless, both of these competitors have their work cut out for them!
Sahara
- vs -
Cyrus Braddock
-Traditional Rules-
|
The bell rings and Sahara drops from the turnbuckle. She begins to pace in circles as Cyrus moves in unison with her, keeping her in front of him at all times. Sahara steps forward and Cy steps toward her. Sahara immediately backs off and leans through the ropes.
JC: When you’re a person the size of Sahara facing a man the size of Cyrus Braddock, how exactly do you start this match?
BG: Very carefully.
JC: Braddock towers over her by almost a full foot! He outweighs her more than twice over! How exactly is she, in a fair and straight forward setting, supposed to begin this match without Braddock just straight up overpowering her?
BG: Now you’re gettin’ it!
JC: Getting what!?
BG: Duke made this match in the hopes that Big Cy would punish Sahara!
JC: Well from what I understand, it was her son that ordered this match!
BG: I just said Duke, I didn’t specify which one!
Once Sahara ducks through the ropes, Cy backs off, allowing her to lean back in. As they approach again, Sahara once again ducks through the ropes. This time, she steps to the apron to a chorus of boos from the Brooklyn faithful.
JC: I’d normally chastise her for this tactic, but I really don’t see any other avenue of attack here!
BG: Straight on and straight up, it’s a no-win situation for Sahara! If she did, it’s an easy and emphatic win for Braddock! You can’t give that opening momentum victory to someone like him.
JC: You certainly can not.
BG: That’s the one mistake Jason Cashe made at Leap of Faith! He let Braddock have that early momentum.
Braddock backs off and turns around, leaning against the ropes and facing the crowd. He shakes his head in disgust. Whether the disgust is for what he’s tasked in doing, or for Sahara’s tactics, the world may never know.
With Braddock turning his back, Sahara tries to capitalize quickly by climbing the ropes. As she’s climbing, Braddock turns to face her. Noticing her climbing, he makes quick, long strides to make it to the corner in order to meet her by the time she perches upon the top. Reaching up, he grabs Sahara with one hand on her crotch and one hand on her neck. Sahara shakes her head no and tries to fight, but Cy launches her across the ring. She flies across toward the far corner and lands on her back. With so much momentum, she slid crotch first into the ring post.
JC: Mistake number one and Cy Braddock capitalizes!
BG: Sahara needs to think and act quickly now! Otherwise that lumbering simpleton is gonna keep her grounded and inflict pain and damage!
Sahara stays grounded in the corner as she nurses her newfound ailments. Braddock closes in and uses a boot to press her against the mat. Once she lays flat, he lifts his boot and stomps her in the chest. Cy then follows that up with a second and a third before Sahara uses her feet to push against the ringpost and slide back toward the center of the ring. Braddock, though, drops a massive elbow onto his opponent. He quickly gathers to his feet and drops a second one before going for a cover that ends in a quick two count and a kickout from the White Widow.
JC: I can’t help but wonder what’s going through her mind!
BG: Probably survival!
JC: No, I mean for real, Brody! You saw her! You saw her demeanor change as soon as Sayors mentioned her son! She went from a determined woman to one that already looked defeated! And here she is now, getting her ass figuratively handed to her by her mountain of an opponent!
Back on his feet, Cy lifts Sahara to hers and whips her hard into the far corner. She impacts so hard that she nearly immediately faceplants as a result. Not done, Cyrus Braddock grabs himself a handful of her luxurious platinum blond locks and pulls her to her feet before sending her for another ride across the ring. Once again, she impacts hard. Rather than face planting this time, she bounces out of the corner and Braddock reaches down, lifting her high above his head.
He approaches one side of the ring and threatens to toss her into the crowd to a roar from that crowd, before backing off toward the center. Cy turns and threatens to throw her to the opposite side crowd and again, they urge him to do it. Once more, he backs off.
Sahara though, is desperate to fight. She begins sending her fist into Braddock’s face. Once. Then twice. A third time and finally, Cy begins to waver. Sahara sends repeated elbows to his temple and he tries to turn his head in order to cover up, but to no avail. On the last shot, the point of her elbow impacts him square in the temple and he very nearly collapses.
Losing his grip on the White Widow, Sahara slides down his back and lands on her feet. Cy meanwhile, drops to one knee after the shot to his temple.
JC: Sahara! With some much needed separation here against Braddock!
BG: She’s gotta stay within herself! She’ll never overpower him, she’ll never fight him fist to fist! What she has that he doesn’t is wit and speed!
JC: You couldn’t be more correct! If she utilizes what he doesn’t have, it could really turn the tide of momentum!
After sticking the landing, Sahara takes just a brief pause to gather herself before going on the attack. Braddock is prone as he tries to shake the cobwebs. Sahara moves in and directs a punch to the big man’s kidney. Then another, and a third. Each one causes Cy to wince in obvious pain.
Sahara runs to the ropes. On the rebound, she leaps and delivers a huge dropkick to the side of Cy’s head. The kick causes him to rise back to his feet only for him to get thrust backward and into the ropes. He bounces off and attempts to thwart her attack back takes a hard shoulder into his midsection that doubles him over instantly. Back to her feet quickly, she runs towards the ropes. Taking a page out of her estranged husband’s playbook, she leaps from the ring surface to the top rope and uses her agility to use the top rope as a springboard. In flight, she twists and turns herself before taking Big Cy to the mat with a thunderous DDT to a pop from the Brooklyn crowd.
JC: Sahara with the coverrrr, twoooo and NO!
BG: Braddock with a bench press sort of kickout…
JC: Don’t you DARE say it!
BG: …WITH AUTHORITY!
JC: You said it :|
The bench press kick out sends Sahara up and through the ropes. She tries to catch herself with the ropes on her way through but she fails and bounces on the apron before falling to the floor. In the ring, Cy sits up, still shaking the cobwebs. He rolls out of the ring to the floor and grabs Sahara by her hair. He starts to lift her up, but Sahara acts quickly by using her own head as a battering ram, nailing him in the midsection. Not once, but twice.
Cy backs off and doubles over because he has no choice. Sahara, in an effort to resume her positive momentum, hops up on the apron. She runs forward and leaps off the apron, landing on Cy’s shoulders before taking him down with a hurricanrana to an uncharacteristic pop from the Universe!
She pops back to her feet and slides into the ring as the referee restarts his ten count.
JC: A lot of people try to paint her as a stereotypical stupid blonde but that couldn’t be further from the truth!
BG: That often works to her own benefit, Jacuinde! She presents herself in a certain way because you, me, and every veteran in the business knows that people are shallow and only dig skin deep!
JC: She often finds herself outsmarting and outwitting others due to all of that!
Sahara attempts to exit the ring on a number of occasions, but each time, the official holds her back much to her own chagrin. On the floor, Braddock gets back to his feet. Sahara is quick to charge toward the ropes and leap through. Braddock quickly telegraphs, but Sahara telegraphs his telegraph and spins back inside the ring. As Braddock turns to find Sahara, he faces the ring with just enough time to eat a suicide dive flying forearm to his ample jaw causing him to stumble backward and into the fan barricade.
Back on her feet, Sahara grabs a hold of Braddock by his hair and pulls him toward the ring before directing him inside. She rolls in behind him. Cy gets to his feet and Sahara goes to whip him into the corner. He puts on the brakes quickly and reverses, pulling her toward him, only to deliver a stiff lariat that effectively halts her momentum and floors her instantly.
Back on his feet he lifts Sahara to hers then tosses her to the ropes. On the rebound, she ducks a lariat attempt which finds her sailing towards the far side. Quicker to turn than normal, Cy spins and on the rebound catches Sahara with a big boot to her face which just about turns her inside out.
JC: This crowd, which has been split, right now seems to be firmly behind Cyrus Braddock!
BG: He’s moments away from his first major wrestling victory, but he needs to maintain his focus!
Cyrus hits his knees, but rather than make the cover, he holds his hands out, urging the fans to cheer him on. They’re happy to oblige and he finally makes the cover.
JC: One… twooooooo and NO!
BG: Sahara kicks out! All because he wasted time worryin’ about these leech fans!
Cy sits to his knees after the kickout. He continues looking around at the capacity crowd, perhaps surprisingly cheering him on. He looks down at Sahara laying flat on her back. A look briefly adorns his face before he shakes it away and grabs her by her throat. The referee immediately admonishes Cy but Braddock climbs to his feet and pulls Sahara to hers by her throat. Her eyes squeezed shut from the mighty grip on her windpipe elicits tears from the White Widow.
Braddock visibly sighs as he prepares to lift her up for the chokeslam. Out of nowhere, Sahara reaches out and grabs the official by his collar and pulls him into the fray. Amid the distraction, she sends a swift kick right between Braddock’s legs that very obviously breaks his grip on her throat. Cy shoves her away and the ref takes a light spill as a result but is otherwise fine.
With Braddock doubled over, Sajara advances toward him and wraps him up into a small package.
JC: The distraction caused the opening!
BG: She ties him up into a small package!
JC: Twooo… and THREE! She got him!
JC: Sahara uses the element of surprise here to secure victory over the big man!
BG: And Braddock is left going back to the drawing board as once again, he fails to secure a victory!
JC: I gotta mention the look he gave her before she kicked him!
BG: That, to me at least, looked like a look of compassion and you can absolutely see where that caused his loss here tonight!
JC: Whatever the case, Sahara is victorious and she still has Dolly…
BG: Misty.
JC: …Waters in her sights!
BG: Sooner or later those two will collide and with Relentless now just about a month away, maybe the powers that be can get that match on the books!
JC: Maybe so, but in the meantime, we gotta take a break! Stay with us as Warfare rolls on, right after this!
…Theo and Flynn tip-toe, Creeping down the hallways of the XWF backstage area.
”Okay… They should be right around the corner. Just figure out why they’re mad at me, then get out of there. Easy job!”
…Flynn nods, taking a deep breath.
…Before turning, reaching in the back pocket of his tights…
Retrieving a knife the length of a man’s forearm.
Theo’s eyes widen.
”What the f-... What are you doing with that!?!”
Flynn pushes the knife’s handle into Theo’s hands.
”Take this. If I get close to Bobby and start… I don’t know… singing the Samurai Pizza Cats theme song, or saying my lifelong dream is to enter the World Series of Whittling, push this into my heart until I’m dead, Saving Private Ryan style.”
…
”Flynn, I’m not going t-”
Flynn grabs Theo by the collar.
”PROMISE ME, THEO.”
Theo is horrified, slapping away Flynn’s hands!
”Absolutely not!”
Flynn scoffs, snatching the knife back from Theo, shoving it back into his tights.
”You dick! I’d do it for you!”
”Just GO OVER THERE!”
”FINE, DAD, GOD.” Flynn slinks across the floor…
Approaching Bobby Bourbon and Thunder Knuckles, Them No Good Bastards, who seem to be setting up a murphy bed behind Theo’s temporary office door here in Brooklyn.
“Hell yeah, this’ll show Theo, just when he think’s he’s in his office, night night!”
Bobby and TK nod in agreement before Flynn speaks.
“Alright, you two knuckleheads! What’s all this tomfoolery about!”
Startled, Bobby and TK spin around.
“Get out of here, Mark,-”
TK jumps in the middle of Bobby's sentence.
“Yeah, you're not taking credit for this completely epic troll, dick stain.”
“-and where’s our son?”
“In a storage unit in Idaho!”
…
“...No follow-up questions, then? About why our shared-custody clone boy is in a Gem State storage unit?”
“Nah, I didn’t actually care.”
“*sigh* Neither does anyone else.”
“I've been fucking saying that!”
“Yeah, well, have you ever done this!”
Bobby immediately pulls out a Ziploc bag of candy corn, and opens it. He reaches into it, pulls out a handful, and shovels it into his mouth. He looks immediately unhappy.
“Bobby…”
“...Eaten… pyramid-shaped candy?”
“You don’t understand, you MORON. He HATES the shit! God for a guy who knows everything, you get nothing.”
Bobby grimaces as he chomps down on the candy corn. This is clearly the worst day of his life.
“...Oh, Seriously, Bourbontheredonethat. You don’t have to prove how tough you are by… eating candy corn when you hate it.”
Bobby waves them both off.
“I’M FUCKING HARDCORE!”
Bobby shovels another mouthful of candy corn into his gullet. Flynn turns to TK looking baffled.
“It’s fucking August… WHERE does he get bulk candy corn out of season like that?”
“He doesn’t.”
“...”
“Pretty sure it’s hoarded and stockpiled over decades by shopping on November 3rd.”
“...He’s HOARDING a candy that he doesn’t even like?”
Bobby continues to pose and flex as he eats.
“I’M A LEGEND!”
Theo Pryce walks into the room, looking none too pleased, then rolls his eyes at the sight of Bobby.
“Oh, this again? Bobby…”
“You mean you know about this? This… This is common knowledge?!?”
“It was a problem back in 2018.”
Bobby shovels another mitt of candy corn into his mouth, bits of chewed corn syrup falling out of his mouth as his eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets.
“Bobby, look, we need to talk, now’s not the time for a candy corn binge.”
“EATING THIS CANDY MAKES ME A BADASS THEO AND I’M NOT SLOWING DOWN! SEE!”
Bobby somehow crams even more candy corn into his mouth. Theo, TK, and Flynn all wait, arms folded. Bobby holds out the bag of candy corn as if to share. None of the other men want any of the disgusting, disgusting stuff. Steve Sayors walks into the room, sees what’s happening, immediately pivots and walks out.
“THIS IS HOW UKRAINE IS WINNING!”
“No, Bobby, it isn’t…”
Both Mark and TK look at Theo like he is absolutely batshit insane for thinking force-feeding oneself candy is NOT how Ukraine is still a country.
“It fuckin’ is! Read the damn news!”
“Yep, even I can see Bobby’s transparent pro-Ukraine message, THEO.”
“...HOW is Bobby force-feeding himself candy corn transparently pro-Ukraine?”
“First, Slava Ukraine means “eat candy for Ukraine”.”
“Did Bobby tell you that?”
Flynn blinks slowly.
…
“...Yes.”
“Fine.”
Theo reaches into the bag of candy corn and scoops a handful into his mouth. His disdain is pure, and unfettered, as he chews.
“You happy, Bobby?”
“Oh Jesus, no, this is awful.”
“Yeah, well, you’re not the only one downing candy corn!”
Mark and TK look absolutely stunned by the turn of events. As they do, Peter Principle walks into the room, goes graven faced, spins, and leaves, knowing none good can come from this. TK looks at Flynn.
“Bet you a million Xbux Bobby can eat more.”
“...Sorry. You think I’m going to bet AGAINST Bobby in an EATING contest? No chance.”
“Pussy.”
“...”
…
“Goddammit. YOU’RE ON.”
TK mumbles under his breath.
“Heh, knew that would work.”
“What did you say?”
“I said, new car windows work.”
“You did not!”
“Prove it.”
~~~~~
We see Robbie Bourbon and Theo Pryce walk past each other in a hallway. Theo is happily eating candy corn. He offers some to Robbie.
“Want some?”
“No thanks, I don’t really like the stuff, but I appreciate it.”
This flashback completely showcases the absolute character development of both Bobby and Theo, who have grown over seven years. They are now no longer amicable, plus now Theo hates candy corn.
~~~~~
Theo and Bobby are seated across from one another in Theo's makeshift office as a bevy of XWF superstars are seen in the background, maybe even your favorite if you’re willing to sell what is happening here. TK and Flynn are standing side by side at an end of the table, watching the happening as two big plates of candy corn are brought out in front of each man.
“Do you really want to do this?”
“I can do this all day!”
“Call him a bitch when you say that, Bobby!”
“Theo if he calls you a bitch you call him a bitch!”
Bobby and Theo begin scarfing candy corn like men possessed. Legends, hopefuls, main eventers, and even some guys who haven’t debuted yet cheer on as Theo and Bobby, eyes locked with on another, continue to pour candy corn down their throats.
“That’s it, Bobby, you eat that horrible, horrible candy!”
“UNACCEPTABLE! THEO YOU CAN EAT MORE OF THOSE SEVERAL YEARS STALE DOODADS!”
“Y’know, those are made with honey and other types of insect secretions?”
“Horrible, absolutely horrible, but since it’s pumpkin spice season and all the stores are starting to sell Halloween stuff we’re going down this road aren’t we?”
Having finished a plate of candy corn each, Bobby and Theo sneer at one another as Mini Morbid carries out two fresh paper plates full of candy corn. Theo pats Mini Morbid on the head as he does.
“Don’t you pat my dwarf, I won him fair and square years ago!”
“Nobody remembers that, do you even remember when you did that?”
Bobby snarls as he doesn’t remember when he did that.
“Shut up and eat your candy!”
“Slava Ukraine!”
Theo and Bobby guzzle down the candy corn in fast measure, and neither man looks happy at all having probably eaten over a pound of years old candy corn each, which fortunately, Bobby happened to pack with him to every Warfare you have watched since Covid. An unknown face walks into the room.
“My name is Baron Maloogalooga, and I want to sign an XWF contract and compete amongst the best…”
Baron Maloogalooga looks on at this bizarre contest of fortitude going on between Theo and Bobby as they drown themselves in candy corn.
“You know what?”
“My name is just Gary.”
“I’m going back to my day job. I want no part of this.”
Gary Maloogalooga turns and leaves, the rest of the reprobates and lunatics ready to fight in the XWF watching on. The plates emptied, Mini Morbid brings out another round of plates. Bobby clutches his gut, and noticing, Theo looks up wearily at him with a faint smile, his own internal organs suffering the fate of all that damned candy corn.
“Are you finished, Bobby?”
“Oh hell no, I have a partner!”
Bobby stands up and tags TK, who looks baffled.
“What the fuck do you expect me to do?”
“Bro, he’s on the ropes, you can finish him!”
“Goddamnit Bobby, you did something crazy again.”
“We separate the crazy brave from the phony tough!”
Incensed at the statement, Flynn tags Theo, who also looks perplexed.
“Theo, get out of my way, I am not phony tough!”
TK begrudgingly sits in front of Bobby’s fresh plate of candy corn as Theo is practically yanked from his seat by Flynn to take it. TK slowly picks up one candy corn and looks at it before slowly putting it into his mouth while Flynn tosses a corn into the air and snags it into his mouth. Both men wretch and immediately spit it out, and the room starts hooting and hollering. Still gagging TK grabs Bobby by the arm dragging him out the door.
“THIS ISN’T OVER, PRYCE!”
“You bet your ass it isn’t!”
With TNGB out of the room Theo sits at his desk.
“At least their Murphy Bed prank didn't get finished.”
Flynn points over to non completed prank. Theo shakes his head in contempt.
“They're idiots. I'm so over their antics.”
Theo opens his top left desk drawer, which just so happens triggers another, completely separate Murphy Bed, hidden in the wall behind Theo’s desk. It falls down hitting Mini Morbid on the head as Theo barely moves out of the way.
“Damn it!”
“Those slick Bastards!”
On the underside of the Murphy Bed, is another sticky note!
”Is it from the Bastards?”
Quote:”THEO, YOU SCHEIßE!”
”Yep. German, it’s them.”
Quote:”YOUR TIME TO CONFESS YOUR CRIME IS AT AN END, PRYCE! YOUR WRONGDOING WILL BE REVEALED NEXT WARFARE FOR ALL THE WORLD TO SEE! Get ready to get #CANCELLED, THEO!”
…Flynn whistles, as Theo squeezes his temples, exasperated.
”...Goddamn, Teddy baby. What did you DO?!?”
JC: We’re back here on Warfare and Brody, up next, tag team action as the MAGA Powers collide with the Storm!
BG: The MAGA Powers are on a steady ascent toward tag team gold and before long, Jacuinde, they’re gonna cash in on that opportunity!
JC: The Storm, meanwhile, have not had the best of luck on Warfare of late and are itching to get back to victory lane tonight in Brooklyn!
RA: The following tag team contest is set for one fall! Introducing first, Latoya Hix and Razor Blade… THEEE STORRRRRM!
JC: These two seem primed and ready!
BG: With these idiots behind ‘em, there’s no tellin’ how this match’ll turn out!
JC: A win tonight could catapult them to the top of the proverbial standings!
RA: Their opponents!
RA: The XWF Xtreme champion Misty Waters and Madison Dyson… Three MAGAAAA POWERRRRS!
JC: Again, these two have recently formed this team but are no doubt climbing the tag team ranks quickly!
BG: And the current tag team champions need to be on notice! I don’t know when, but sooner or later the champions will defend against the MAGA Powers and on that day, the world will rejoice as we’ll have NEW tag Team Champions!
The Storm
Latoya Hix & Razor Blade
- vs -
The MAGA Powers
Madison Dyson & Misty Waters
-Traditional Tag Team Rules-
|
JC: Hixx and Razor continue their journey through the XWF Tag Team division here tonight.
BG: They’re not alone, Jacuinde, the tandem of Misty Waters and Madison Dyson also look to be shaking up the Tag Team division here in the XWF tonight!
Hixx and Dyson stand in their respective corners as Razor and Waters start out the match. Razor and Waters tie up, and Razor sinks in a hammerlock! Waters with a back elbow to Razor followed by a snapmare takedown, and Waters sets in a chinlock! Razor fights to his feet, and throws a back elbow to Waters’s breadbasket! Waters whips Razor backwards to the mat, and looks to drop an elbow! Razor rolls out of the way, and he’s up quick with a reverse chinlock to Waters! Waters counters with an armwrench onto Razor, and she holds it as she tags in Dyson!
JC: Waters and Dyson on the same page so far, working the quick tag to keep an advantage!
BG: Dyson leapfrogs and comes down with a double axe handle to Razor’s shoulder!
Razor recoils as Dyson backs him into her corner! Hixx appeals to the crowd as Dyson starts laying in knee lifts to Razor! Waters calls to the ref to check her eye!
JC: What is Dolly doing?
BG: It’s Misty now, Jack, and maybe she got an eyelash in her eye!
While the referee checks on Misty’s eye, Dyson starts to rake the eyes of Razor! Hixx is incensed and rushes the ring at Dyson to break it up, but before she can make contact the referee notices and stops her!
JC: That’s dirty tactics from Dyson and Waters!
BG: That’s smart tag team wrestling, Jack!
JC: I like that you’re calling me Jack, it feels more natural than trying to say my full name all the time.
Hixx is furious as she is backed into the corner, and Waters begins to choke Razor in the corner while the referee can’t see! Waters releases the choke as soon as the referee turns and Dyson sets in a headlock! Headlock takedown from Dyson! Dyson sets in the headlock, but Razor rolls it back into a pin!
1!
Dyson rolls into a pin attempt on Razor!
1…
2…
Razor rolls it back into a pin on Dyson!
1…
2…
Waters breaks up the pin attempt with a stomp onto Razor!
BG: Dyson and Waters are taking advantage of their side of the ring!
JC: And some questionable officiating!
Waters steps back out of the ring and makes the easy tag back in. Dyson rolls out as Waters brings Razor to his feet, delivering a clubbing blow to his back! Razor retaliates with a right to Waters! Another right to Waters! Razor with a snap suplex to Waters!
JC: Razor needs to make a tag here!
BG: You’re right!
Razor rushes to make the tag to Hixx, but is blindsided by Dyson! The referee chides Dyson for her tactics, and she is backed into her corner! Waters with a stomp to Razor, and Waters with the joint manipulation to Razor’s left hand! Razor howls in pain as Waters wrenches back on his ring finger! Waters looks confident as she places the hand on the mat and gives it a stomp! Waters with a tag to Dyson! Dyson climbs to the top rope and comes off with a body splash! NO! Razor gets the knees up!
JC: Razor needs to capitalize here with a tag!
BG: He needs to get up first!
Razor struggles to get to his feet at Dyson recoils. Waters calls to Dyson to make the tag as Razor crawls towards his corner! Dyson sprawls out and grabs Razor’s ankle, but Razor breaks away! Razor bounds, and makes the big tag to Hixx!
JC: Hixx finally getting tagged in here tonight!
BG: She’s pissed, Jack!
Hixx is in and she rushes the opposite corner and clobbers Waters! Hixx turns and has her sights on Dyson! Clothesline to Dyson from Hixx! Hixx runs into the opposite corner and nails Waters with a back elbow! Hixx stalks Dyson and hits her with a huge Bicycle kick! Hixx with a pin onto Dyson!
1…
2…
…Dyson barely gets a foot on the bottom rope! Hixx to her feet, still fresh, and she pulls Dyson up! Latoya Slam onto Dyson! NO! Dyson rolls forward with a small cradle pin!
1…
2…
Kickout by Hixx with authority! Hixx to her feet faster than Dyson, and again Waters distracts the referee as the fans boo!
JC: Oh, come on!
BG: I agree, the referee seems to be more focused on Waters’s mascara than the match!
Hixx climbs to the top rope as Dyson loudly claps her hands, simulating a tag! Hixx flies from the top rope and hits a diving cross body onto Dyson, but the referee turns and insists that Razor is the legal man! Hixx is beside herself! She argues her case with the referee along with Razor, and while the referee isn’t looking, Waters claps her hands, simulating a tag! Waters in the ring, and she shoves Hixx out of the ring! Dyson pulls Razor in, and Misty hits the Rolling Waters onto Razor!
1…
2…
3!
WINNERS - The MAGA Powers
|
JC: The MAGA Powers with the all important win tonight!
BG: I’m a fan!
JC: Clearly.
BG: Listen! Everyone wants girl power until that girl power comes right winged! I for one, love it! When these two lovely ladies are crowned tag team champions, I will pop! Like these idiots whenever they see any of the goody goody good guys, I will pop and I will pop hard!
JC: I’m sure you will!
SMACK!
JC: WHERE THE HELL DID SHE COME FROM!?
BG: Sahara! Making her presence known tonight!
Behind the backs of the MAGA Powers, Sahara snuck into the ring with a chair in hand and walloped Misty Waters. Madison Dyson takes a light spill in the ensuing chaos but quickly gets back to her feet. Sahara drops the chair and hightails it from the ring with Dyson chasing her away. Maddy stops by the ropes and watches Sahara leave up the aisle.
Maddy returns to check on Misty Waters.
JC: Sahara has laid out Misty Waters here on Warfare!
BG: And that’s a crying shame, Jacuinde! The world deserves the MAGA Powers!
JC: Agree to disagree. Stay with us folks, as Warfare rolls on LIIIVE… right after this.
Massive hometown crowd pop.
JC: Ladies and gentlemen… New York’s favorite adopted son! The Warfare Executive Director, the Lionheart himself! THADDEUS DUKE!
BG: Jesus. Has he ate pineapple today?
JC: What? How would I know?
BG: That means his…
JC: Okay, never mind, Brody. I get it.
Thaddeus Duke emerges from backstage to a massive roar from the Brooklyn chapter of the XWF Universe and begins making his way to the ring.
BG: So are we just not gonna mention that after Warfare in Chicago, Thaddeus Duke hired two men to the Warfare team?
JC: He did! Peter Principle and the former color commentary extraordinaire, Pip Collins!
BG: And are we, or are we not mentioning the fact that Duke plans on leaving his post after his contract expires?
JC: I think that counts.
BG: Which, if my math is correct, puts him in line to exit the director’s chair somewhere around the November pay per view event!
JC: That’s my math too, yes.
‘My Name Is Human’ fades out with the Executive Director in the center of the ring. Thad goes to speak, but is appropriately cut off by another passionate pop from the XWF Universe. He waits for them to quiet. He goes to speak again but once more is cut off by the massive pop.
BG: They obviously know whether he’s eaten a lot of pineapple lately too! What the hell is it with this guy!?
JC: It’s respect, Brody! For what he’s accomplished, for what he’s done for the sport, for what he’s no doubt done for this company!
At long last, Thad is able to speak.
I’ve left my GM hat back in the director’s chair so no, I’m not out here in an official capacity for the powers that be here in the XWF.
Pause.
I didn’t come out here to address “Misty” Waters and what did or did not happen back in Chicago.
Elongated pause.
I’m certainly not out here to address my wife.
Pregnant pause.
And I’m certainly not out here to comment on what I’ve allowed my son to do these last few months.
9 months pregnant pause.
I’m out here specifically about Relentless. I’m out here because three years ago I embarked on a magnificent run that began with a 3 and 0 Relentless performance and carried me for a six month reign of dominance the likes of which is seldom seen.
No, I don’t bring that up to blow myself with a microphone in my hand and XWF cameras staring at this beautiful face. But, because we are once again in Relentless Season and I’ve gotta be honest.
Before I took the reigns of Warfare, my intent with my return to the XWF was not to sit behind a desk, but to get into this ring on a consistent, if not regular basis. My intent was to resume my wrestling career, not run a god damn television show. My intent was to try and duplicate my 3 and 0 Relentless 2021 experience on the 25th anniversary of the XWF.
Big big pop.
JC: He wants three matches?
BG: Again?
Two weeks ago, I did something I’m conflicted about. See, I’ve been trying to get Centurion one on one in the ring for more than four years and now that I have the power to make matches. Now that I carry the proverbial book, I couldn’t help myself. So, at the 25th anniversary of the XWF, I made the match. Centurion versus Thaddeus Duke for the first, and likely last time ever.
Pop.
That isn’t exactly how I intended for that to go down, but once I got to the ring, I really couldn’t help myself. I’ll explain more about what I mean by that at another time, but right now, I want to do something different than two weeks ago.
See, my plan since early this year was to come back at Relentless 2024. My plan was to do what no one else has done before me or since me, and do it a second time by going 3 and 0 on the largest stage. One of those plans fell by the wayside when Sean Parker took his ball, and what’s left of his manhood, and hid himself away back in Scotland where the big bad main eventers can’t find him.
JC: Ooof. Uncool.
BG: MMMMMyeah I’m okay with it.
So I’m gonna call out anyone listening. Anyone past or present that is listening, watching… or lurking, to come out here right now and accept this open challenge for Relentless.
JC: That is huge!
BG: Is anyone gonna accept?
JC: Thaddeus Duke intends to run the gauntlet and has just laid out an open challenge for Relentless!
As the Universe and the commentary team react, Thaddeus Duke stands staring at the ready with his sights set on the entrance way. Moments later, the lights inside the Barclays Center go out.
JC: God dammit this is so typical!
BG: The lights out shit happens, Jacuinde! Because it’s god damn effective!
JC: It’s just so cliche!
BG: Listen to this crowd, Jacuinde! THAT’S WHY WRESTLERS ALWAYS PULL THIS TRICK!
When the lights come on, Thaddeus Duke remains staring at the entrance way. What he doesn’t know, is someone stands behind him.
JC: HOLY SHIT!
BG: IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS!?
Thad turns around but gets scooped up by the mighty hardcore legend himself, Barney Green before being flattened like a pancake on the mat!
JC: That’s Barney Green!
BG: Former Universal champion! Nowmer legend of the harcore ring!
After slamming Duke into the mat, Barney Green gets back to his feet. The crowd roars for the return of the Green Machine who now sports a CU:LT wrestling t-shirt. Green backpedals, bounces off the ropes and leaps into the air before coming down with a huge big splash on the legendary Lionheart.
The initially positive reaction for Barney Green begins to turn sour when the XWF Universe realizes that he’s putting down their “hero.” Getting back to his feet, the crowd now starts to boo Barney Green as he backpedals again, bounces again, and again delivers a huge big splash to Thad Duke.
Green gets back to his feet once more and grabs the beaten down Thad by his hair and pulls him to his feet…
JC: What’s he gonna do here!?
BG: Something no doubt painful, Jacuinde!
JC: THE GREEN AWAKENING!
Barney Green plants Thaddeus Duke with the Ram-Paige maneuver and stands over him while beckoning a microphone from Rochelle Adams.
”Hey Duke!” Green shouts into the mic.
”I accept!”
JC: There you have it!
BG: Well somebody will have to tell Thad when he wakes up just what the hell happened here!
JC: In the second of his potential three match conquest, an XWF classic in Barney Green goes one on one with the legendary Lionheart! The main event is NEXT!
JC: Folks, the main event is coming up in just a few moments!
BG: We’re beginning to inch ever closer to historical territory here, Jacuinde! Jason Cashe has held the Television championship for four and a half months!
JC: He has, and he’s kept a tight stranglehold on the division!
BG: You might look at four and a half months as perhaps not very long but did you know that the longest modern era Television title reign is just one day past six months?
JC: I did not know that, no. That said, it’s wise NOT to discount the challenge that stands before him tonight in Brooklyn.
BG: Adam Garcia is without a doubt a tall task for Jason Cashe tonight! Cashe has wanted stiffer competition for the title. Duke agreed. So here we are on Warfare!
JC: Garcia is riding high after a monumental victory in his young career over the likes of the legendary Centurion!
BG: But Jason Cashe is chasing history!
The bell rings and all eyes are centered on the beautiful Rochelle Adams.
RA: The following contest is set for one fall with a twenty minute time limit! It is for the XWF Television championship!
RA: Introducing the challenger! From Malaga, Andalucia, Spain weighing 217 pounds. The Mad Bullll ADAMMMM GARRRRCIIIAAAA!
Rage Against The Machine's "How I Could Just Kill a Man" starts to play and some of the crowd boo. Some however... Few in fact, support the entrance of the Spanish wrestler. The lights turn a golden yellow and crimson red as Adam Garcia slowly makes his way to the ring steps, after hitting them he quickly climbs them, jumping over the third rope and placing himself in the center of the ring, where he holds his hand in a "rock" position imitating the horns of a bull to his heart, then to his lips and finally to the sky.
As he waits for the bout to start, he throws his coat to the outside of the ring and hands his glasses to the referee.
JC: Garcia! Waiting, willing, ready to go tonight!
BG: This has all the makings of an upset, Jacuinde! Cashe may be the odds on favorite, but I think I might’ve jinxed Cashe with all that talk of chasing history!
JC: You don’t really believe in jinx’s, do you?
RA: His opponent!
The hymn-like hum vibrates through the area before Lauren Hill soundfully brings in the chorus. Jason Cashe comes out from the back, stopping at the edge of the stage. Looking around the arena at the live audience, he takes a long drag off an air joint before howling up into the sky! A few fans howl with him.
RA: From Houston, Tejas by way of Decatur, Georgia… He is the REIGNING! DEFENDING! XWF Television Championnn! A truly Troubled One they call DiOGee.. Jaaaassoooon! CAAAASHE!!
Stopping as the aisle turns to ringside, Cashe drags a foot creating an imaginary line. This is the line where when passed, the talking stops. Cashe leaps up on the apron onto his left knee. He stands, ducking under the top rope to enter the ring.
JC: Cashe! Looking as good and as primed as ever!
BG: Should I give him your number?
JC: Will you STOP!?
BG: I briefly considered it about a month or so ago but decided against it.
XWF Television Championship
Jason Cashe ©
- vs -
Adam Garcia
-15 20 Minute Time Limit-
|
The bell rings and the timer upon the X-Tron begins to tick tick tick down from twenty minutes. The two men approach the center of the ring and brief staredown ensues. Where normally, Cashe might be amped to get the match underway considering the fifteen minutes he normally has. That extra five minute allowance affords him and Adam Garcia alike a little pre-fisticuff gamesmanship.
Garcia starts running his mouth and Cashe starts running his right back. Garcia shoves Cashe and Cashe backpedals a couple steps. The two step toward one another but Cashe ducks low and takes Garcia to the mat with a double leg takedown before adopting a ground and pound offense while Garcia tries to cover up.
JC: I think it’s quite clear that these two men don’t much care for one another!
BG: I don’t think that once the bell rings, a real competitor can really think about who they like or don’t like. The name of the game is victory and feelings just get in the way!
Having had enough of Garcia covering up, Cashe gets back to his feet and Garcia soon follows. Garcia steps toward him and seemingly out of nowhere Cashe connects with a snap jab to Garcia’s jaw, rocking him in place. Then another, and another, then a scoop and a slam followed by Cashe running toward the ropes. Garcia is quick to try and get up, but Cashe bounces off the ropes and charges forward to deliver a running big boot to the side of Garcia’s skull.
JC: Oh that rocked him!
BG: Garcia appears to be on dream street here! It’s time to mash the gas pedal if you’re Jason Cashe!
Cashe is quickly back on the attack and delivers some rapid fire chest stomps to his challenger. The champion doesn’t let up as he peels off toward the ropes. On the rebound, Cashe somersault rolls forward and back to his feet, leaps and delivers a crisp rolling senton before going for the cover.
JC: Twooo and no!
BG: Adam Garcia kicks out, but you gotta know this is some kind of a message!
JC: You may well be right!
BG: This is Cashe’s division until otherwise notified and maybe he wants to set an example to the young upstart!
After the kickout, Cashe gets back to his feet and pulls Garcia to his. The champion sends his challenger hard into the corner. Garcia remains there and Cashe shoots toward him before leaping and delivering a cannonball into Garcia. Cashe remains on the mat after the impact as Garcia staggers out of the corner. Cashe is back to his feet and casually streps through the ropes before climbing to the top rope.
JC: Jason Cashe! With just over 15 minutes remaining, is going for the high rent district tonight in Brooklyn!
BG: He’s in the wrong borough!
JC: OHHHHH! Nobody home!
BG: Now’s the opportunity for Adam Garcia to climb back into this match!
Cashe crashed and burned on an attempted flying crossbody that Adam Garcia decided he did not want to feel and stepped out of the way. Cashe instinctually gets back to his feet as his nurses his midsection only for Garcia to tie him up and drop him with a snap suplex. He floats over for a quick cover, but Cashe kicks out just after two.
Garcia is back to his feet and Cashe, though a little weary, follows. The two men approach and Cashe goes for a bit of a wild haymaker, but Garcia shoves a foot into his midsection. Then a second. He goes for a third, but Cashe catches it. Garcia wastes little time as he leaps and nails Cashe upside his head with an enziguri. Cashe clutches his head and falls to his knees, then flat on his stomach.
With momentum firmly behind him, Garcia advances to the corner and hops up on the middle rope. He leaps off and delivers a Hitman style knee and elbow drop combination onto the bare skull of the TV champion. Unwilling to relent, Garcia holds his knee against the side of Cashes head then begins delivering a succession of elbow strikes to the other side of his head.
JC: Momentum has shifted into the favor of the challenger!
BG: He may be young and less experienced, but the young buck, or bull I should say, is one hell of a competitor!
JC: You mentioned earlier that maybe Cashe was looking to make an example out of his challenger but I think that perhaps the same thing can be said about Mr. Garcia as well!
With the damage done, Garcia stands back in wait as Cashe tries to shake out the cobwebs from the elbows that scrambled his brains. Cashe is back to his feet but is noticeably a little woozy. As he turns to find Garcia, the challenger rushes forward and delivers a devastating European uppercut to the TV champion. Cashe’s jaw slams shut with an audible snap and the champion collapses to the mat.
JC: Garcia quick on the coverrr twoooo and NO!
BG: I’m not sure how the hell Jason Cashe just kicked out! His brains are so damn scrambled he could probably make an omelet!
JC: A champions instinct, Brody! That’s what separates the contenders from the pretenders and there’s no doubt in my mind or anyone else’s minds, that Jason Cashe is a legitimate champion!
BG: Lesser men would’ve stayed down for three right there, Jacuinde!
JC: Like him, love him or hate him, Jason Cashe is not a lesser man!
Less than eleven minutes remains on the ticker as Adam Garcia climbs back to his feet. Cashe remains on the mat with his chest heaving and his eyes no doubt seeing the bright arena lights as stars. Garcia closes in on him and reaches down before lifting him to his feet. Garcia ties him up, then lifts the TV champion into the air. He waits and waits and waits a little longer before driving him head first into the mat with a thunderous hanging brainbuster. Garcia floats over him and hooks the leg.
JC: One! TWoooooooo! ANNND 3! NO!
BG: That one was the closest yet, but close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades!
JC: Have you ever played horseshoes, Brody?
BG: I’m from Alabama, Jacuinde! What do you think?
JC: Just a little more than nine minutes remain for these two competitors in what has been a pretty intense, stiff contest thus far!
BG: Neither of them are pulling any punches, Jacuinde! With XWF gold on the line, neither can afford to!
Garcia gets to his feet after the kickout. He immediately heads for the corner and begins to climb to the top. With his back to Cashe and the ring, Garcia peers between his legs to measure his opponent before leaping off the top rope backward.
BG: OHHHH!
JC: Cashe got his knees up at the last possible moment and Garcia takes a devastating blow!
BG: That had to have knocked every ounce of breath from his lungs!
JC: Jason Cashe now, perhaps with an opportunity to climb back into this thing!
Garcia curls into a ball as he attempts to nurse himself back to health. Cashe remains grounded as he catches his breath, but not for much longer. Using the ropes to aid him, the TV Champion is back to his feet. Garcia, knowing he is ripe for the picking, scurries toward the ropes and begins to will himself to his feet. He turns but Cashe is there to tie him up, lift, and drop him midsection first across the top rope.
JC: Cashe! Feeling the adrenaline rush!
BG: Can he capitalize!?
Cashe runs toward the ropes, remaining close to them. He bounces off and…
JC: Mark of Jason!
BG: It’s all over but the shoutin’!
JC: Cover! TWOOOOOOO! THREEEE!!!!!?????????
BG: He kicked out!
JC: Somehow, some way, Adam Garcia kicks out!
BG: Say what you want about Garcia!
JC: The kid has all the tools and he’s proving his resilience tonight!
BG: If Cashe had any hair, he’d have pulled it out just now!
Cashe, somewhat beside himself gets back to his feet and pulls Garcia to his. Cashe goes to tie him up, but Garcia breaks free and ducks behind Cashe. The TV Champion telegraphs and leaps…
JC: UTI!
BG: That’s gonna do it folks!
JC: Coverrr! TWOOOOOOO! AND!
JC: Garcia kicks out again!
BG: Oh my lawd!
Cashe rolls off of Garcia and pounds the mat before getting back to his feet as the time dips below five minutes remaining. He lays back in wait as Garcia gets up under his own power. Cashe jumps to act…
JC: SCRAP ACTION DRIVER!
BG: COUNTERED!
JC: GRAND FINALE!
BG: HE GOT IT!
JC: WE GOTTA NEW CHAMPION! WE GOTTA NEW CHAMPION!
BG: COVER!!!!!
JC: ONE!
JC: TWO!!!!!!
JC: THREEE!!!!?????????????????????????????????????????
BG: I CAN’T BELIEVE IT!
JC: CASHE GOT HIS FOOT ON THE ROPE JUST IN THE NICK OF TIME!
Garcia thought the match was over and so did the timekeeper. The referee continues to try and plead his case for the two count but Garcia doesn’t hear him. All he sees is the timekeeper handing the TV title through the ropes. Garcia grabs the title and Brooklyn practically boos him out of town. Garcia raises the title but the referee snatches the title from his grasp.
JC: I don’t think he realized it was only a two count and Cashe secured the rope break!
BG: Speaking of Cashe!
JC: SCHOOL BOY ROLL UP!
BG: HAND FULL OF TIGHTS FOR GOOD MEASURE!
JC: ONE!
JC: TWO!!!!!!!!
JC: THREE!!!!!!!!????????????????????????????????????????????????????
BG: HE GOT ‘EM!
JC: BY GAWD IT’S OVER!
WINNER and STILL XWF Television Champion
Jason Cashe
|
JC: Jason Cashe! Successfully defends his precious here tonight!
BG: And what a match it was, Jacuinde! It was no doubt, main event worthy from where I’m sittin’!
JC: I could not agree more! Adam Garcia comes up short but he put on the big boy pants tonight!
Suddenly, "Zenorus" began to play in the arena, reinvigorating the crowd in a sea of cheers and applause. Dionysus stepped out from backstage, slowly clapping his hands and holding a microphone under one arm. Cashe and Garcia looked at each other in confusion, while Dionysus took hold of the microphone.
Dio: Hey, fantastic match between you two, am I right everyone?
The crowd roared in approval. Dionysus chuckled, then began to pace across the stage.
Dio: You really are showing just what it takes to fight for the Television Title. And it's high time I reclaim what I made mine, all but one year ago.
Dionysus paused, turning his head toward the ring and pointing at the champion.
Dio: ...But let me ask you a question, champ. The Television Title match is fifteen minutes long. Fifteen minutes?! For that?!
The crowd began to boo, but Dionysus quickly raised his hands up.
Dio: Hoooold on everyone; I'm not saying that in a bad way!
Crowd: Ooooooh.
Random Guy In the Crowd:
You Suck!
Dio: Thank you!
The crowd laughed the random guy out of the building.
Dio: Come on, champ...is that what you really want? Only fif-teeeeeen minutes of playtime at the biggest show of the year? Do you think that's what the people want to see?!
Crowd: NOOOO!
As the crowd roared "no," Dionysus feigned surprise.
Dio: ...Well, you heard'em champ. Fifteen minutes clearly isn't going to do. So how about...10 minutes? 10 minutes sounds good, right?
Crowd: NOOOOOO!
Dio: No?
Crowd: NOOOOOO!
Dio: ...Well okay, gimme a second now...Ah, I've got it.
Dionysus walked out to the ramp.
Dio: How about this then, champ? At Relentless, It'll be you...and me…
Dionysus stopped, creating a dramatic...
BG: Spit it out god dammit! We’re on overtime!
Pause.
[purple]Dio: ...IN A 30-MINUTE IRON MAN MATCH.
Crowd: HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT!
Dionysus dropped the microphone, dubiously bowing to the champion.
JC: A huge challenge issued from The Catalyst himself!
BG: Can he even do that, though?
JC: I guess there's only one way to find out!
BG: Tune in in two weeks!
JC: LIVE from the Staples Center in Los Angeles!
SPECIAL THANKS:
Jonathan Bacchus
Sahara
Dionysus
Mystery Segment Submitter
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Peter Principle
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