SEPTEMBER - 2 - 2024 LIVE FROM THE CRYPTO.COM ARENA LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA XWF Xtreme Championship Misty Waters © - vs - Latoya Hixx -Xtreme Rules- Adam Garcia - vs - Prince Adeyemi -Traditional Rules- XWF Television Championship Jason Cashe © - vs - Aurora -15 Minute Time Limit - Ladder Match- XWF Universal Championship Ned Kaye © - vs - Matthias Syn -Traditional Rules-

As the Warfare theme says hello, the Universe is greeted with a massive colorful and explosive pyro display.  The City of Angels is ripe, primed and ready for Warfare.


JC:  WELCOME TO LOS ANGELES!


The pyro ends and the cameras pan the screaming crowd.


JC:  WELCOME TO WARFARE!  Ladies and gentlemen, I am Jacuinde Castillo and alongside me as always, Brody Goodman.  Brody?  We’re now less than three weeks away from the mecca, from the granddaddy of all granddaddies, RELENTLESS is upon us!

BG:  It well and truly is, Jacuinde!  3 nights of action!  3 cities!  And for the 25th Anniversary of the XWF an unprecedented three different continents!

JC:  We’re not wasting any time tonight!  We’ve heard there’s about to be an appearance and statement made in the ring by one Jonathan Bacchus, and before that happens, Brody, have you seen Steve Sayors interview with Kieran King this past week?

BG:  I sure have, Jacuinde, and all I gotta say for both of these guys is: if you’re gonna be dumb, you gotta be tough.

JC:  Let’s roll a snippet of that footage for those at home.


Camera cuts to footage shot last week at the home of Steve Sayors. Sayors - talking into a speaker phone - looks proud as punchz as if he’s hit the scoop of a lifetime.


SS: What do you mean?

Kieran King:  You asked me if I saw Warfare, didn't you? Well I saw enough to hear Johnny trying to use my name to make people give a shit about the humongous disappointment that is his XWF run to-date has been.

SS: But you bet on hi–

Kieran King: I'M NOT PAYING YOU ANY FUCKING MONEY SO JUST DROP IT ALREADY!  Especially when it comes to anything Bacchus related. That boy needs a history lesson in just how it was I came to acquire this allegedly ‘paper crown’ of mine. As if I didn't rock the fucking socks off the current top ELO-ranked guy in the company? As if I didn't stomp on the current Anarchy number one contender? As if I didn't demonstrate that Pantheon was a fucking swing and a miss by knocking off Spencer ‘Just Lucky To Be Included’ Adams. There's levels to this shit. And while our man's gassing up Corey Black as if beating that sumbitch is hard, YA BOY has been sitting back and resting on my laurels while still bringing more to the ‘what have you done lately’ table than Bacchus. Here's a scoop for you, Steve-o: The XWF is still my kingdom.


The camera cuts back to the announce desk.  Jacuinde Castillo has a dark expression, while Brody Goodman looks positively delighted.


JC: Harsh words from XWF’s March Madness winner.

BG: Sparks are gonna fly! I can’t wait!





The lights in the arena go low as a hum emits from the speakers.  Music explodes from the speakers as “The Gnashing” by Deafheaven kicks into gear, and a single spotlight focuses on the stage.  Walking through the curtains comes a figure in a hooded black peacoat with a black scarf tied reading “RIP Tookie” over his lower face.  When he reaches the spotlight, he pauses for a moment to pull the scarf down and drop the hood to reveal the face of “The Insurgent” Jonathan Bacchus.  The crowd reaction is decidedly mixed, as per usual, and as he looks over the crowd, a smirk crosses Bacchus’ lips.  The lights rise to dim as he makes his way down the ramp towards the ring.


JC:  Never phased, never perturbed — always planning.  I don’t think we’ve yet to witness a moment on the Insurgent’s face where he didn’t look confident and in control since he entered XWF.  What do you think, Brody, about Kieran’s statement that Bacchus’s run in XWF so far has been underwhelming?

BG:  I think big men talk big, and the best of them can throw a big enough punch to back it up.  It don’t matter if it’s true or false — you wanna say something to get the attention of a guy like Bacchus, you go for that little smirk on his face and see if it's a mask.

JC:  Outside of the Leap of Faith match, Jonathan Bacchus has a perfect record in XWF since his formal debut, but there are many who question the legitimacy of that display of dominance so far: he’s made short work of Cadryn Tiberius, Bobby Grenier, and Tommy Gunn — he came within a breath of beating Ned Kaye for the 24/7 briefcase.  But in contrast to his proclaimed rival, Sebastian Everett-Bryce, Jonathan Bacchus has yet to make a thunderous impact.

BG:  This is how you do it, JC!  Last Warfare, Bacchus called out damn near the whole locker room, and it’s Kieran King who’s answering that — and King ain’t even active right now!  But if you’re gonna bite something off, you better be ready to chew.  This is that make or break for a guy like Bacchus.


Upon reaching the ring, Bacchus opts for the stairs.  Once ascended and into the ring, he circles the mat before coming to the center.  He sits down cross-legged in the center, the music fading as the lights come up.  He gives the top a few taps to make sure it’s on, then he looks directly into the camera.


Jonathan Bacchus:  I said I wasn’t going to take the easy way, was I?


A cute little smile and a shrug — a mixed reaction.  Like clockwork.


Jonathan Bacchus:  Let me be clear, I am frustratingly incorrigible and tenacious for the wrong people.  I get hit, I get back up — you bust my jaw, I spit blood in your face — you spit in mine, I give it a lick and ask why you aren’t blowing bigger loads.


This one elicits a laugh from the crowd.


BG: Jesus christ.


Jonathan Bacchus:  I give credit where credit’s due — I don’t ask for what I don’t deserve, but I demand what I’m owed.  I don’t bend, I don’t break, I don’t compromise.  I say a lot of shit, but I’m willing to walk through it to make my case.  Talk is cheap unless it comes from me — my words are 24 karat, and I’ve got a Midas Touch left hand that’ll turn your teeth gold.  I won’t wax on the past like an Oyzmandias; Sebastian and Corey can call me Janus, but I’ll fight anyone in the back with one eye closed if it means my sight is set on the future.  And for those who aren’t exactly into Antiquities and say that Jonathan Bacchus is nothing more than a handful of pretentious collegiate references, I’ll dumb this one down into Pig Latin for you…


A pause.  A cold, confident smirk.


Jonathan Bacchus:  I see.  I conquer.  I cum.


As the crowd laughs again, Bacchus rises to his feet, his energy apparent as he paces the ring.


Jonathan Bacchus:  See, I think we all got off to the wrong start, and I wanna rectify that: please allow me to introduce myself — I’m a man of wealth and taste.  I’m the ghost raging within the machine against the basilisk, the exorcist of Maxwell’s Demon — I’ll burn through the skies at 200° like china teapot to your dome with a running start from somewhere between here and Mars!


He stops to walk forward and lean on the ropes, looking directly into the hard cam.


Jonathan Bacchus:  And if you think that’s a word salad, the varietal is pronounced “kai-sar”.


A pause and a smile.


Jonathan Bacchus:  But if there’s one thing I love more than anything — the sole thing which has driven me in my life and drives me today – it’s the words of a wise man…


A pregnant pause, an even more Cheshire grin.


Jonathan Bacchus:  I enjoy crushing bastards.


The reaction comes in as he steps back.


Jonathan Bacchus:  Look, I don’t give a damn if you agree with my assessment or not, but I use this pulpit to sentence bullies to swirlies.  I make no excuses for the terror.  And I’ll walk before the firing squad knowing that any shot only hits a man.  So get that camera close enough to my face so I can treat it like a mirror and call the Dandyman…


He walks forward as the camera approaches.  Soon, his face encompasses the whole screen.


Jonathan Bacchus:  KiKi.  Do you love me?  Are we riding?


A pregnant pause — no response.  A small smirk creeps across his face as he turns away to walk to the ropes towards the ramp.


Jonathan Bacchus:  My bad, Kieran, I didn’t release the counter had a restart timer on it.  Allow me to complete the ritual…


He goes quiet and his expression darkens as he looks towards the stage.


Jonathan Bacchus:  I said what I said.  And I stand by every word.  I’m calling your bluff, so how about you call mine … Kieran King.


Bacchus is cut off by the first frenetic strums of Faith No More's “The Gentle Art of Making Enemies”. The crowd becomes unglued.





JC: Is he.. is he here?


A figure emerges onto the stage as Brody Goodman catches himself singing an apt line from the song.


BG: “If you don't make a friend now, one might make you–”


There is no hood or robe; no fancy disguise. All it takes is a second for the camera to careen forward and catch the oddly inexpressive face of King Kieran in frame, and track him as he makes his way to the ring.


JC: Brody, where's his crown?

BG: What're you asking me for?

JC: Last we saw of the King of the XWF, he was full of pageantry and demands - forcing XWF competitors to compete for his whim and fancy. And then… he just up and left. No explanation given.

BG: Maybe we'll get one here…


Reaching the ring, Kieran slowly climbs the steps and… takes a seat on the canvas, not unlike Bacchus did previously but very unlike any approach Kieran has shown in years prior.


BG: Looks like we've got some mind games from the King!


Outstretching his hand, King Kieran places a microphone on the ground in front of him, pointed in the direction of Bacchus. He motions of Jonathan to continue.  Bacchus simply smiles quietly, sitting down before him in the same pose.


Jonathan Bacchus: Y’know, I expected you to be a lot more bombastic face-to-face.  I suppose this is where I’d say that I’m not surprised someone like you would talk hard behind a camera but be a little more tight-lipped in person, but let’s put everything on the table: you have something to say.  You know you do.


Bacchus leans forward.


Jonathan Bacchus: I’m not gonna play armchair psychologist on it — you came out.  You had to.  Maybe you’re gonna see if I’ll dig myself in deeper by still rambling on.  But I’ll look the King in his face with an Ace in hand, keep calling your bluff,, and seeing who’s killer and who’s filler about that crown of yours.


Bacchus places the microphone down himself.

Kieran takes his turn.


King Kieran: My man… I just wanted to see if you were done. I just wanted to see if you'd hold anything in the tank for when you're staring into my baby blues. I just wanted to see whether you could stay hard for long or if you had blown your load early. What's the refractory period like for ya? And do I have to do all the work in the time between? Because you're leaving me decidedly limp over here.


A smirk wipes over Bacchus's face.


King Kieran: But you're right, I'm here. And I haven't been turned up in a while so that might mean something. Am I back on contract? Or… is it that my house is only a 40-minute drive away - and that's in L.A. traffic - so I figured ‘why the fuck not, something interesting might happen?’


A small “L.A.” chant starts up in a section of the audience, just loud enough for the camera to catch it.


King Kieran: Unfortunately, something interesting did NOT happen. Instead, YOU happened. Instead, you came out here to give the people a lesson in the Classics or some shit. Instead, you did what you do: thump your chest, jerk yourself off, and then rinse and repeat with not a care in the world about whether anyone else cums too. But hey, you're a smart guy - you sure like to try and make people think so, at least. You can see the metaphor in what I said, can't you? Cause this ain't about your rancid jizz; it's about your rancid personality. You're out here, like a toddler throwing a wobbly, begging for someone to look your way. Well what happens when you get the attention you’re looking for? Do you even know what to do with it when you’ve got it?

Jonathan Bacchus: Oh don’t try to play the hometown hero here, Kiwi.  I don’t give a damn what gated community you live in now that thinks you can rep the 424 after half a bottle of 818 — I’ve been 925 and 510 my whole goddamn life, and you’re barking up the wrong redwood.  You drove through LA traffic to get here?  I took the 101 — that’s the scenic route, kid — with the same copy of “All Eyez On Me” I’ve had since I was too $hort to ride Silver Bullet at Knott’s Berry!  I got a hug and picture taken with my beef tapa at Jollibee’s this morning, and I’m gonna be putting back Fernet with the Sierra Nevada chaser at The Baked Potato this evening.  I have come out with a grizzly bear wrapped around my shoulders and left shouting “Eureka!” from the moment I began until the day I end.  And that’s the difference between us — put down the smug little smirk, and we can start at the penis or we can scream “I just don’t give a fuck” and see who has the passion in them!  Because back when Spencer Adams wore that same paper crown, proclaiming himself the King of Slab City — that’s southeast of here by the Salton Sea — I told him that the only royalty we recognize in these parts is Queen Califia.


A pause and a glare.


Jonathan Bacchus: So take a moment, put down the notes you cribbed from “The King of Wrestling” Corey Black, and show me you have a speck of Sutter’s Fort gold in your head rather than claim-jumper pyrite you bought at a Primm gift shop on your way back from going broke at the tables across the border.  Take your time, I’ll go in the back and get my Raiders hat to pander more and rep “your” city and state better than you.


He sets the mic back down. King cocks an eyebrow and laughs.


King Kieran: Wow, that's a lot of words to try and dismiss the attachment an immigrant could have to their new homeland. How progressive of you. Hell, that's a lot of words to say “I’m NorCal and just visiting”. More importantly, it's a lot of words to use when missing the point entirely. Tell me where I brayed about the Chargers or the Lakers? Tell me where it was that I spoke about chugging cactus coolers on a day trip out to Solvang? I'm not here for a Californian dick measuring contest. I'm here because I happen to live here; you happen to be here; and I just wanted to see if there was any substance behind why you're speaking on my name. But I’m losing wood over here, dawg! You're looking for a fight so you're chumming the water to try and lure in some big fish but dude… here I am and you don't have any bait on your line! There's nothing you have that I want. So I'm finna head over to Baldwin Park and get my own tasty treat - animal style - cause I'm famished and you ain't enough of a snack to keep me interested.


Dropping the microphone, Kieran rolls backwards and out of the ring. Turning, he starts heading up the ramp.


JC: Wait a minute, he's leaving? Just like that?


Bacchus picks the mic up as he leaves.


Jonathan Bacchus: Hey, KiKi?


No reaction, Kieran continues to walk.


Jonathan Bacchus: Thank you.  On behalf of not just me, but everyone watching here and at home.  Lord knows we don’t need another carpet-bagger trying to pull some NorCal-SoCal crap when you moved here for the weather and high property values.  Please, drive home blaring “They Not Like Us” on your stereo as you mutter about how the Tesla Tunnel’s coming any day now to skip the backlogs.  You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, it’s obvious, and I’m not alone in hearing it.  Go on, puff your chest and keep the poker face, but we’ve all seen the point demonstrated: you’re done.  And that’s the story of Kieran King, a guy who goes as far as he’ll allow himself but takes the escape route.  See, I’ve not deigned to give you more than a slap box because as I said — I’m matching your energy.  And the accolades aside, that energy is the same as always: fucking lazy.


Kieran keeps on walking up the ramp.


Jonathan Bacchus: Frankly, how dare you even come out here with this shit.  Rattling off the same canned lines every other dork tries to check me with, acting like that’s going to get more than a scoff out of me.  You’re embarrassing Kieran — everything from your little strut and mimic entry to the tired-ass In-and-Out reference to the stupid ass “wow so progressive” pablum.


And still Kieran walks.


Jonathan Bacchus: So thank you for being the easiest person I’ve stepped in the ring with so far, even than last time I put your head through a wall, and not wasting any more of my time while someone deserving has a chance.


At the end of the entryway, Kieran pauses. His eyes squint as he turns around, a wry grin on his face. ‘There it is,’ he says, directly to the camera.

And suddenly, he’s off! At full tilt, he sprints towards the ring, leaps up, and it all happens too fast to know whether he uses the apron or a rope as leverage and the guy in the truck was busy trying to swat a fly or something so there won't be a replay, but King somehow twists and somersaults over the top rope and knowing he just did some straight ninja shit, lands face-to-face with Bacchus. It gets a roar from the crowd, and the two men stare each other down for a moment.

Ultimately, King snatches the mic from Bacchus’s hand.


King Kieran: You know, you're a shining example of ‘one rule for me, another for everyone else’. You want to chastise me for originality while talking about paper crowns? While calling me lazy? While calling me ‘KiKi’ just as people have done before you? Your ass is showing, Jonny. This is why people were more excited about you when you were hiding behind a fucking WordPress website and a bug catcher screename. But look - you finally found something that makes you worth half a damn! ARCADIA - Yeah you put my head into the wall there. And shit, you get credibility from even breathing the same air as me, let alone throwing hands. So congrats, baby doll. I'm your fucking Huckleberry. But if you wanted round 2 so badly, you could've saved yourself a lot of trouble. Because as I've said time and again by now - I'm here. You're here. It doesn't take much to do the math from here. I'll even give you the first lick.


King taps on his jaw but there is no time for Bacchus to answer or throw a punch…


Or… we could do something else?!


A voice interrupts the proceedings as Warfare Executive Director Thaddeus Duke appears back at the entrance. Neither Bacchus nor King flinch, but Duke continues anyway.


Now Jonathan Bacchus and Kieran King getting into it on this show would just add more proof to the already undeniable fact that Warfare is the greatest show in the business, but… I have a better idea. And in fact, Bacchus, I think you're already there so let's see if King is willing to go the same direction. What do the two of you say about two of the biggest names in the entire industry facing off… 1 on 1… for the first time ever… at RELENTLESS?


Bacchus smiles, mouthing something along the lines of ‘let's fucking do this’ to King, who rolls his eyes. He motions with his hand to Thad.


JC: I think Kieran's telling Thad to put up some big money!

BG: Smart. If you're good at something, never do it for free.


Don't worry, you'll get paid plenty.


King eyes Duke down the entrance aisle, and then looks back to Bacchus.

He nods his head and exits the ring.


JC: I think that's it! Jonathan Bacchus vs. Kieran King is a-go for Relentless!

BG:  Say what you want about Thad Duke!  He’s been around this business a long time and he knows money when he sees it!  Bacchus versus King is money!

JC:  Folks, this show has started off with a bang and we haven’t even started the action yet!

BG:  We’re goin’ home to Relentless, Jacuinde!  Nothing is off the table tonight!

JC:  XWF Universe… STAY WITH US!

---

JC:  We’re back here on Warfare and folks, the first match of the night is the first of 3 major title matches!

BG:  To say that tonight’s Warfare has massive implications for what we’ll see in three weeks!


RA:  The following contest in Xtreme Rules Match for the XWF Xtreme Championship!





When "The Storm is Coming" hits, Latoya Hixx appears. They hear a voice laugh in the background, and see blue lights from the entrance and some smoke and rainfall coming down.


RA:  Introducing the challenger!  Latoyaaaa HIIIXXX!


She walks onto the middle stage, flexes her muscles, walks straight down towards the aisle, slaps a few XWF fans, gets inside the ring, and dims the lights in the ring. She flexes her arms once more, spreads her arms, climbs on the top rope, yells at her fans, and tells them to let's go. She then climbs down off the ropes and waits for her opponent to arrive.


RA:  Her opponent!





Pomp and Circumstance fills the stadium from the loud speakers. Under the XTron, Misty Waters wastes little time making her way to the entrance ramp. She's wearing a luxurious blue fur robe, lined with red and white tassels. She has a red bandana tied around her skull, keeping her red wig in place, and a pair of single-lensed sunglasses covering her eyes.


RA:  From Frankfort, Kentucky!  She IS the XWF Xtreme Championn!  MMMMISTYYY WWWWATERRRRRS!


Misty hops onto the apron, stands, and points a single finger in the air, looking back at the crowd. She steps through the ropes, both hands in the air motioning for noise as she does a slow spin in the center of the ring, then climbs the turnbuckle and points with both hands up to the ceiling.

XWF Xtreme Championship Misty Waters © - vs - Latoya Hixx -Xtreme Rules-

The bell rings and Misty quickly utilizes her speed, darting towards Latoya with a flurry of sharp strikes, peppering her with kicks and quick punches. She escalates with a spinning mule-kick that catches Latoya off-guard, sending her staggering.

Misty pushes forward, driving Latoya towards the corner, but Latoya suddenly plants her feet and absorbs Misty’s strikes and grabs Misty and powering her into the ropes. On the rebound, Latoya executes a devastating bicycle kick, knocking Misty down. Latoya goes for the quick cover.


JC: "Latoya's showing that raw power early on, Brody. She’s got a strength advantage and she’s using it!"


ONE!





























KICKOUT!!!


BG: "It’s gonna take more than that to keep Misty down!"


Latoya lifts Misty up by her hair and whips her into the opposite corner with such force that Misty slumps in the corner upon impact. Latoya follows up with a massive corner splash, but Misty rolls away at the last second, causing Latoya to crash into the turnbuckles.

Misty scrambles to her feet and use this moment to regain her bearings. She leaps onto the second rope and launches off with a crossbody, but Latoya catches her mid air and transitions into a fallaway slam that sends Misty crashing hard onto the mat. Latoya covers again.


ONE!
























TWO!!















KICKOUT!!!


BG: "Misty's resilience is on full display tonight!"


Latoya, now visibly frustrated, pulls Misty to her feet and locks in a punishing bear hug, squeezing the air out of the champion. Misty grimaces in pain with her arms flailing as she tries to break free. With a desperate effort, she manages to land a few elbows to Latoya's head, forcing the challenger to release the hold.

Misty stumbles away, trying to create distance, but Latoya is relentless. She charges at Misty, looking for a spear, but Misty sidesteps at the last second, and Latoya crashes through the ropes to the outside.


JC: "Quick thinking by Misty Waters! She’s buying herself some crucial recovery time!"


Misty slides out of the ring to follow up. As Latoya gets to her feet outside, Misty grabs a steel chair from under the ring and swings it with all her might, striking Latoya square in the face. The metallic clang echoes through the arena as the crowd goes wild and Latoya falls back, dazed and vulnerable.


JC: "Oh, what a shot with that chair!"

BG: "Well, I heard a rumor that Latoya was recenting looking into getting a nose job. Looks like she owes Misty Waters for services rendered!"


Misty, now in control, doesn’t let up. She lifts the chair again, delivering another brutal shot to Latoya's back as she struggles to protect herself. Misty tosses the chair aside and pulls Latoya up, tossing her into the ring and following close behind. Misty sprints across the ring to gain momentum, and rushes in on the rebound for a devastating running knee strike to the face.


JC: “RUNNING WATERS!”


ONE!































TWO!!






































THR—KICKOUT!!!


Latoya barely manages to roll her shoulder, breaking the count just in time.


BG: "I thought that was it! What heart from the challenger after that devastating Running Waters! Most people wouldn't come back from that, you know!?"


Misty, now fueled by her near victory, climbs to the top rope, aiming to capitalize with something high-risk. However, before she can Latoya recovers and rushes to the ropes, shaking them violently, causing Misty to lose her balance and crash onto the turnbuckle. Latoya climbs up to the second rope to join Misty, and quickly sets her up for a superplex. She hoists Misty into the air, stalling for a moment before she crashes back into the ring with a thunderous impact that leaves both women starfished on the mat.


JC: "Both competitors are down! This match has taken a toll on them, but who will push through the pain to walk home with the Xtreme Championship?!"


As they both struggle to their feet, Latoya charges at Misty and unleashes a flurry of strikes, backing Misty into a corner. With Misty trapped, Latoya executes a series of powerful chops followed by some closed-fist punches. Finally, Latoya pulls Misty out of the corner, setting her up for her finisher, the Latoya Slam. With a mighty heave, she lifts Misty and slams her down on her face with devastating force.


BG: "LATOYA SLAM! That has to be it!"


Latoya goes for the cover!

ONE!

































TWO!!
















































THREE!!!

NO—Misty barely gets her shoulder up in the nick of time!

The referee calls off the count and the crowd roars in disbelief as this one continues!


JC: "So close that she could taste it!"


Frustrated, Latoya drags Misty up, planning to hit another Latoya Slam to finish the match. However, as she lifts Misty, Misty manages to wriggle free and escape Latoya's grasp and roll out of the ring, dropping to the floor with a thud to escape the follow up.


JC: "Misty Waters using her ring awareness to stay in this match, but she looks spent, Brody!"


Latoya, visibly irritated that she can't secure a pinfall outside the ring, follows Misty outside. As she reaches down to pull Misty to her feet, Misty—who’s lying in wait—pokes Latoya in the eye, blinding her temporarily.


BG: "Dirty move by Misty, but in a match like this, it's all legal!"


Misty doesn’t allow Latoya a moment to breath, and follows up with a quick succession of punches to Latoya's head, followed by a knee to the midsection. She attempts to whip Latoya into the steel steps, but Latoya reverses it at the last moment, sending Misty crashing into the steps instead. Misty collapses, clutching her back in pain as Latoya tends to her sore eye for a moment.

But Latoya doesn’t let up for long, and is quickly on top of Misty with hammering fist before throwing her back into the ring. She slides in after her, stalking Misty as she slowly tries to get to her feet. Latoya grabs a nearby kendo stick, swinging it down hard across Misty’s back. Misty jumps to her feet as she cries out in pain, but as Misty staggers away, Latoya prepares for another strike—but Misty ducks and the kendo stick hits the ropes, rebounding back into Latoya’s face.


JC: "Backfire! That could be the turning point Misty needed!"


As Latoya staggers backward, clutching her face, Misty springboards off of the middle rope, connecting with Ode to Pomp (springboard European uppercut). Latoya is sent sprawling back onto the mat.


JC: "Ode to Pomp! Misty hit it perfectly!"


The crowd is on their feet as Misty, motions to them, riling up the crowd. Knowing full well that Latoya could recover at any second. Misty hops to the top rope as quickly as she can.


BG: "Misty's going high-risk again! This could be the end if she lands this!"


Misty steadies herself on the top turnbuckle, takes a deep breath, and launches into the air with a breathtaking Super Diving Elbow. She descends like a missile, her pointed elbow aimed directly at Latoya's chest.


JC: "SUPER DIVING ELBOW!"


Misty hooks Latoya’s leg tightly as the referee slides into position for the count with the crowd counting along.


ONE!


























TWO!!
















































THREE!!!

WINNER AND STILL XTREME CHAMPION MISTY WATERS

The referee raises Misty’s hand, and she is handed her Xtreme Championship, which she clutches tightly to her chest.


JC: "She did it! Misty Waters retains the Xtreme Championship in what was an absolute war!"

BG: "Latoya Hixx pushed her to the limits, but Misty's resilience and cunning saw her through another successful defense!"


As "Pomp and Circumstance" plays over the loudspeakers, Misty climbs the turnbuckle once more, raising her championship belt high.


JC:  Misty Waters!  Successfully defends her Xtreme title tonight!

BG:  OH GOD!

JC:  SAHARA!

BG:  WHERE THE HELL DID SHE COME FROM!?


Sahara enters the ring seemingly from nowhere and clubs Misty Waters from behind.  Misty tumbles over the top rope but lands on the apron as the belt tumbles into the ring.  The fans go nuts in the immediate aftermath.  Misty crawls into the ring between the bottom and middle ropes as Sahara grabs the Xtreme title.  Misty slowly gets to her feet, but as she turns around, Sahara clobbers Misty Waters with the title to a massive pop from the crowd in L.A.


JC:  Sahara has just taken out the Xtreme Champion!

BG:  And just three weeks from Relentless!


Sahara stands over the Xtreme Champion with the title still in her hands.  She looks like she isn’t done.





The unfamiliar theme playing over the sound system distracts everyone.  Sahara steps away from Misty Waters with her eyes trained hard on the entrance way.


BG:  Who the hell is this!?

JC:  I have no idea!


Soon, six rather burly fat men carry a throne from backstage.  Sitting high atop the throne on the shoulders of these offensive linemen sized individuals, is Pip Collins.


BG:  Pip Collins!?

JC:  Oh god, small man syndrome LIVE here on Warfare!


As Pip Collins’ totally original unborrowed theme fades out, a man dressed like a medieval crier steps forth.


Here ye, here ye!


JC:  Here ya?  What the f…

BG:  Function.


It is with great respect and admiration that I introduce to you, the assistant executive director of Warfare… the esteemed one, His Emminence, Pip Collins!


JC:  His Emminence?  What the hell!

BG:  Don’t disrespect the esteemed one, Jacuinde!  I’m sure he’s thought of everything and likely has an executioner somewhere to quash dissent!


Thank you, Mort! Pip cries out.  Ladies, it comes to my attention that you two don’t quite get along.


JC:  Bit of an understatement.


As you know, Relentless is less than three weeks away… has that been mentioned yet on this program?


BG:  Once or twice.


So, by the power vested in me by our Executive Director, I, Pip Collins, hereby orders that at Relentless in three weeks, Misty Waters WILL defend her XWF Xtreme Championship one on one against Sahara!


Sahara looks on, hiding a smile within.  She doesn’t care about the gold, but she does care about getting her hands on Misty Waters.


Further… that match will be… a LAST!  WOMAN!  STANDING!


Pip’s theme plays as the large men carry he and his throne back through the curtain.


JC:  That’s huge ne… D’OH MY GOD!

BG:  Well this just took a turn!


Sahara turned her attention back to Misty Waters only for Mjsty to be up, at ‘em and take out Sahara with RUNNING WATERS!


JC:  Sahara got the first laugh tonight, but Misty Waters gets the last!

BG:  And you know what they say, Jacuinde!  She who laughs last, laughs best!

JC:  Nevertheless, it is official!  In a match made by Assistant Executive Director of Warfare, Pip Collins, Misty Waters will defend her Xtreme title at Relentless against Sahara in a Last Woman Standing Match!

BG:  Should be a war for the ages!

JC:  Ladies and gentlemen, and children of appropriate ages, stay with us!

---

**Static**
Tonight
**Static**
He
**Static**
Comes
**Static**


We are once again met inside of Antw’an Swisher’s office. Things are even more disheveled than last time. Swisher scratches his head and looks up at the camera.


“So things have not gotten any easier.”


He looks around and pulls out his phone. He opens an app and shows it to the camera.


“Look at that right there! Hundreds of emails asking for their favorite superstar to become one of the last two chosen.”


Antw’an’s eyes go wide.


“Well fuck it. The cat is out of the bag. Two people will be added to Project Hero tonight… and if I’m being honest with you… these last two were the hardest.”


Swisher taps on an email.


“This is just an example of someone championing for their star. Wait a minute… what’s a Gilly? This one must be spam. I’ll try another one.”


Swisher shakes his head and taps on another email.


“Okay here we go. Hanari Carnes. They are talking about something being underutilized and overlooked but never giving up. Well it’s not going to be them.”


Antw’an sets the phone down and looks deeply into the camera.


“The problem with opening this up to the masses is that people always misinterpret what I’m looking for. I’m not looking for the underutilized. I’m not looking for the downtrodden. I’m looking for the people that stood out amongst the greats. Steve Jason and Centurion have done just that. Hell Cooper did that way back before streaming and DVR’s. Epic ran this place for damn near a decade, but you fickle fans don’t care about that. You’d rather see me fellate some nobody like Corey Black or Jason Cashe. Or even Ned Kaye.”


Antw’an Swisher picks up his phone and quickly deletes all the Emails. He lets out a massive sigh of relief.


“And without further ado.”


The camera quickly cuts to the arena. Both Steve Jason and Centurions statues are once again at the top of the ramp. A third one is sandwiched between them.

The curtain is pulled from the hidden statue revealing.

John Gambino.

The crowd erupts as highlights from his long and lengthy and legendary career are shown. From battling long time foes, to hoisting up the Universal Championship. A man that quite literally rolled over the competition Bigg Rigg was one of a kind and that was for the best. As an in ring competitor there is no one you’d rather have on your side and fear if he was on the other.

The camera cuts back to Antw’an in his office.


“Well there you have it. John Gambino. It seems as if there is a running theme in all of these. I wonder if anyone has picked up on it yet?”


Antw’an stands up from his desk.


“It only seems appropriate that I announce the last Hero in person. So later in the show I will be there to reveal the last hero. What you didn’t think these weren’t pre taped.  Do not worry, the wait is almost over.”


Antw’an winks at the camera as it cuts.


**Static**
Home
**Static**
Sickness
**Static**
Rises
**Static**

---

We return from commercial break and…





JC: We’re wasting little time moving onto this next one, folks!

BG: Why make the crowd wait, JC? This match has a big time feel, sweeter than sugar!


The stadium lights slowly dim until the arena is in deep darkness. The crowd in turn stands quietly waiting for the next fighter to enter.

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.


JC: Adam Garcia, a man who has really started to come into his own here in the XWF, looking to make a statement tonight against the returning Prince Adeyemi


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.





The ear-shattering guitar rift of "Black out the Sun" blares through the speakers as the crowd erupts onto their feet. Half scream in adoration while the other choruses into boos. Spotlights center onto the top of the stage as fire erupts from either side of the curtain. As the flames settle, Prince Adeyemi walks out, eyes shifting from the floor to the ring.


RA:  Ladies and Gentlemen, weighing in 202 pounds, at a height of 6 foot 3 inches… Hailing from the great borough of Harlem, New York City!  He is your Kingslayer, Prince Adeyemi!"




He drops into a squat, leaning to the left and the right, stretching his legs out.




The Prince leaps into the air as the crowd echoes "Your kingdom come!". He walks down to the ring, sliding under the bottom rope and rushing to the opposite side. Leaping onto the first and second rope, he throws a fist into the air as his fans cheer for him. Dropping off the ropes, he leans against them and awaits the bell.

Adam Garcia - vs - Prince Adeyemi -Traditional Rules-

The bell rings!


JC: This arena is electrified with anticipation!


The air is thick with tension as Adam Garcia and Prince Adeyemi circle each other in the ring, their eyes locked in a fierce stare-down. The crowd is a slipt of cheers and boos, divided in their loyalties, but united in their excitement for the spectacle about to unfold.

Garcia, the Spaniard with a fiery spirit, makes the first move. He lunges forward with a speed that belies his size, aiming for a quick takedown.

But Adeyemi is prepared. He sidesteps Garcia with the agility of a cat, causing Garcia to stumble slightly but recover almost instantly. The two men reset, circling each other once more, this time with even more intensity.


BG: Both men trying to avoid any missteps here!


The tension snaps as Garcia launches himself at Adeyemi again, this time with a running V Trigger aimed at Adeyemi's chest. The impact is brutal, and Adeyemi staggers backward, clutching his chest. Garcia wastes no time, following up with a series of European uppercuts that drive Adeyemi into the corner. The crowd erupts as Garcia unleashes a flurry of forearm strikes, each blow more vicious than the last.

But Adeyemi is absorbing the contact. He weathers the storm, absorbing the blows, and then, with a sudden burst of energy, he explodes out of the corner with a discus elbow that catches Garcia square on the jaw. Garcia reels back, momentarily stunned, and Adeyemi seizes the opportunity. He follows up with a running bulldog, slamming Garcia's face into the mat with a sickening thud.

The crowd gasps as Garcia lies motionless on the mat for a moment, but then, to their amazement, he begins to stir. Slowly, he pushes himself up to his knees, shaking off the cobwebs. Adeyemi, sensing that he needs to keep up the pressure, charges at Garcia, looking to finish him off with a dropkick.
But Garcia!

At the last possible second, he rolls out of the way, and Adeyemi crashes into the ropes.
Garcia is on his feet in an instant, and he takes advantage of Adeyemi's position by delivering a snap mare that sends Adeyemi tumbling across the ring.

Garcia follows it up with a vicious penalty kick to Adeyemi's back, the sound echoing through the arena like a gunshot. The crowd winces as Adeyemi arches his back in pain, but Garcia is relentless. He drags Adeyemi to the center of the ring and locks in the Elevated Boston Crab, wrenching back on Adeyemi's legs with all his might.

Adeyemi's face contorts in agony as he struggles to reach the ropes, the pain in his back almost unbearable. The ref is down in his face, asking Prince if he wants to continue!

The crowd is on the edge of their seats, some chanting for Adeyemi to reach the ropes, others urging
Garcia to pull harder. Just when it seems like Adeyemi might tap out, he summons the strength to drag himself, inch by inch, closer to the ropes. Finally, with one last desperate lunge, he grabs the bottom rope, and the referee orders Garcia to break the hold.


JC: This match is living up to the hype that these men built for it!


Looking frustrated, Garcia releases the hold. He knows he was close to victory, and he's determined to finish the job. He pulls Adeyemi to his feet and sets him up for the Grand Finale, his signature Blade Runner move!

But as Garcia spins Adeyemi around, Adeyemi fights back with a series of brutal punches to Garcia's midsection, each one driving the wind out of him. Adeyemi follows up with a Blade Sharpener, a devastating uppercut that sends Garcia staggering backward, gasping for breath.

PRINCE COVERS!!!!

1!


2!!








NO!!!!


Garcia kicks out!

But the momentum has shifted, and Adeyemi knows it.

He charges at Garcia, delivering a slingblade neckbreaker that drops Garcia to the mat once again. Ready to finish Garcia off, Adeyemi quickly ascends the turnbuckle, the crowd roaring in anticipation as he prepares to deliver the Dethroning, his diving elbow drop to Garcia's head.

But as Adeyemi leaps off the top rope, Garcia rolls out of the way, and Adeyemi crashes to the mat with a thunderous impact.

Both men are down, the crowd on their feet, urging their favorites to rise.
Slowly, they both begin to stir, using the ropes to pull themselves up.

They're battered, bruised, but far from beaten. Garcia is the first to his feet, and he immediately goes after Adeyemi with a running double foot stomp, aiming to crush his opponent's ribcage. But Adeyemi rolls out of the way just in time, and Garcia's feet slam into the mat with nothing to cushion the blow.

Adeyemi takes advantage, grabbing him and whipping him into the ropes. As Garcia rebounds, Adeyemi leaps into the air, delivering a spinning elbow that connects with devastating force. Garcia collapses to the mat, and Adeyemi quickly covers him for the pin.

1!




2!!






NO!!!

Garcia kicks out at the last possible second, and the crowd explodes with cheers.


BG: ADEYEMI NEARLY HAD THAT ONE!


Adeyemi can't believe it. He thought he had the match won, but Garcia is resilient!

Adeyemi pulls Garcia to his feet and goes for the GOD, his guillotine submission choke, but Garcia fights back with everything he has, delivering a series of elbows to Adeyemi's ribs.

Garcia manages to break free and counters with a Half and Half Suplex that sends Adeyemi crashing into the mat.

Garcia is running on pure adrenaline now as he signals to the crowd, raising his hands to his heart, lips, and the sky in his signature gesture before he climbs to the top turnbuckle. The crowd knows what's coming next, and they begin to chant:


JC: YOU HEAR THESE FANS! THEY KNOW GARCIA IS READY FOR IRA!


Garcia leaps off the top rope, executing a perfect Phoenix Splash. The impact is incredible, and Garcia hooks Adeyemi's leg for the pin. The referee drops to the mat, and the crowd counts along:

1!











2!!




BG: HE’S GOT IT!







NO!!!!

Adeyemi kicks out!

The arena erupts in disbelief!

Garcia sits up, running his hands through his hair, clearly frustrated but determined. He knows he needs to pull out something special to put Adeyemi away for good.

Garcia pulls Adeyemi to his feet, setting him up for the Bull's Horns, his Kamigoye finisher.
He delivers a knee strike with precision, but Adeyemi, somehow, manages to stay on his feet. Desperation fueling him, Adeyemi grabs Garcia and spins him around, locking in the GOD!


JC: THE G.O.D OUT OF NOWHERE!


Garcia struggles, his face turning red as Adeyemi tightens the hold, but he refuses to give up.
The crowd is in a frenzy as Garcia fights against the submission, clawing at Adeyemi's arms, trying to break free. With one last burst of strength, Garcia lifts Adeyemi off the ground and drives him into the turnbuckle, breaking the hold!

Both men collapse to the mat, gasping for air, the toll of the match evident on their bodies.
The referee begins the ten-count as both wrestlers lie motionless on the mat,

1!


2!!


3!!!


The crowd urging them to get up!


4!!!!


5!!!!!


6!!!!!!


Garcia rolls onto his stomach, pushing himself up onto his hands and knees.


7!!!!!!!


Adeyemi is right behind him, using the ropes to pull himself to his feet.

The two men lock eyes once more…

With a roar, they charge at each other, each man throwing everything they have left into the fight. Garcia goes for a Sling Blade, but Adeyemi ducks under it and counters with a running bulldog. Adeyemi quickly follows up with a series of rapid-fire boxing combos, driving Garcia into the ropes. Garcia tries to fight back, but he's running on fumes, and Adeyemi is relentless.

Adeyemi grabs Garcia and whips him into the opposite corner, then charges in for a corner splash.
But Garcia catches Adeyemi mid-air!!!  Stepping up onto the middle rope!

HE HAS PRINCE LIFTED!


JC: WHAT AN INCREDIBLE COUNTER BY GARCIA! I’VE NEVER SEEN ANYTHING LIKE THIS!


AN Avalanche Falcon Arrow off the top rope!

The impact is brutal, and both men lie motionless on the mat as the crowd erupts in a deafening roar.

Garcia slowly crawls over to Adeyemi, draping an arm over his chest for the pin. The referee counts:

1!


JC: This match has to be over!


2!!










NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!


Adeyemi kicks out again, and the crowd can't believe it.

Garcia is on the verge of exhaustion, but he knows he has to finish this.

He pulls Adeyemi to his feet, setting him up for the Gloria Ibérica, his Liontamer finisher. He locks it in, wrenching back on Adeyemi's legs with everything he has left.

Adeyemi screams in pain, his hand hovering over the mat, ready to tap out.

But then, with one last surge of strength, he manages to roll through, reversing the pressure and sending Garcia tumbling across the ring.

Adeyemi uses the ropes to pull himself up one last time, his eyes burning with determination.
Garcia, barely able to stand, stumbles towards Adeyemi, but Adeyemi catches him with a thunderous Blade Sharpener, followed by the Dethroning, his springboard diving elbow drop. The crowd erupts as Adeyemi hooks Garcia's leg for the final pin:

1!





2!!











3!!!

WINNER - Prince Adeyemi!

The bell rings, and the crowd explodes into cheers and boos as Prince Adeyemi's hand is raised in victory. Both men lie on the mat, utterly exhausted!


JC:  The Prince goes to victory!

BG:  Adam Garcia with a night of bad luck!

JC:  The XHW champion didn’t have luck on his side, that’s for sure, but few ever really do against Prince Adeyemi!

BG:  Garcia goes back to the drawing board as both of these men, and the rest of the world, begin to turn their eyes to the 3 night extravaganza known ONLY… as RELENTLESS!

---

As the second half of Warfare begins to take shape, the backstage cameras switch over to find Jason Cashe pacing in a locker room.


“Ironman. Thirty minutes..”


His eyes placed firmly on some paper he held in front of him. The camera pans over the room, nobody else was around. The open lockers littered with belongings to whoever but as of right now, it was playing the role of Cashe’s own personal locker room.


JCashe: I don't have a pen.. I’ll use blood, that’ll show him I mean business!


You can see the hesitation in his eyes as he looks around at himself to determine where to draw the blood for the signature. Reminding himself that he has a match tonight, he nods and begins looking around.


JCashe: Someone has a pen..


Not respecting boundaries, the Television Champion begins digging through other people's belongings. Bags, bundled socks which he flinches away from as he pinches at a corner and smells them from afar. Tossing the sticky feet warmers, he finally comes across a pen.


JCashe: Aahhh haaa!


Knock

Knock

Knock


A knuckled knock came to the door, grabbing Cashe’s attention. For one, this was a Gen Pop locker room. So who knocks unless they are of the opposite sex.. gender.. pronouns.. I can't be sure what is what but #Respect.

Moving himself towards the door to answer the knocking. The door opens before he can reach for the knob.


JCashe: Sloane?


In the flesh. Sloane Taylor. A former XWF TV Champion and his ex Bestie and Wife. He did not expect the one who knocked to be her..


Sloane Taylor: Hi.. Is this a bad time?


The look on his face was probably a mixture of many thoughts and emotions working together to create a perplexed expression. There was a pause, an awkward silence that started to fill the room but shaking himself free of his war roomed mind, Cashe smiles at her.


JCashe: Turn around…

Sloane Taylor: Oh?


There was a disappointment in her face as she nodded and turned around to leave. Cashe stepped up behind her and stopped her forward progress as he slapped the papers in his hand against her clothed covered back.


Sloane Taylor: What are you doing?!

JCashe: Signing a contract. Big match at Relentless.. Potentially for the TV Title. I found a pen!


Briefly holding it up so she could see it, he signs his name where names go on contracts.


JCashe: Done! Now to return it to Theo.. Thad.. Whoever fucking runs this shit now.


Moving to pass her, Cashe opens the locker room door to head out. Every intention to brush her off and outright ignore the fact that she was here. There was zero belief it was to see him.


Sloane Taylor: Umm… Can we talk?

JCashe: Really not a good time! Gotta get this back to the office and I have a match..


He doesn't even look back as he steps through the open door. Just as he is about to pull it closed behind him, she raises her voice and says a single word.


Sloane Taylor: Pumpkin!


Frozen as his knee is lifted slightly before taking a step forward, Cashe lets out a long sigh. Walking backwards, he comes back through the doorway and into the locker room again. Still with his back to his temporary ex wife, Jason Cashe shuts the door.


JCashe: What is it you want to discuss?


His voice had more of an irritated undertone to it as he finally turned to face her.


Sloane Taylor: … Stuff..


Looking at her, she couldn't even look him in the eyes for too long.


JCashe: I really don't have time for this and I’m not sure I want to make the time so..


Her eyes snapped to meet him as her arms folded in front of her.


Sloane Taylor: I said ‘Pumpkin’ so we're going to talk or you can just listen, mister!


This was her attempt at being agGRRessive. Giving her a grin, Cashe nods and takes a seat at one of the empty lockers.


JCashe: By all means, let's ‘talk’..


JC:  Jason Cashe defends his Television title tonight!  STAY WITH US!

---

The XWF fanbase comes alive as Theo Pryce makes his way out onto the stage. He’s clad in a sharp beige suit and looks serious as he STORMS down the aisle!



JC: Well it’s the boss! Theo Pryce is here!

BG: And he looks like he means BUSINESS tonight! The typically amiable COO looks livid!… By his standards, anyway!



Theo solemnly makes his way into the ring and is handed a microphone as he enters. He raises his hand to acknowledge the crowd, hooping and hollering.



Theo: Thank you, thank you, but if you will, please let me speak for a moment.

Recently, two very specific individuals have taken it upon themselves to start engaging in a series of pranks with myself as the target. While I do consider myself to have a decent sense of humor, these pranks have gone too far. For starters, my vacation home in Italy…



Theo gestures to the X-Tron, and we see a shot of his magnificent vacation home at Lake Como in the Italian Alps. It is completely wrapped in plastic wrap.



Theo: My vacation home was completely wrapped in plastic wrap.


The crowd laughs at the ridiculous image of a mountain villa completely wrapped in bubble wrap…


BG: If he wants to move, Theo’s home is already packed!



The image on the X-Tron shifts, and we see Theo’s office at the XWF headquarters… It actually looks normal. The crowd whispers and murmurs…


JC: …I don’t get this one. This just looks like Theo’s office.


…Theo’s forehead strains, as he presses his microphone to his face…


”Production team, could you please show the second photo, labelled ‘reference’?”


The image shifts and the scene remains the same… Only Tommy Gunn and Theo appear to be walking on the ceiling…


JC: What?!? Are Tommy and Theo Spider Mans?

BG: Actually, I believe the plural of ‘Spider Man’ Is ‘Spider Men’.


Production team, next slide.


We show the next photo… which zooms out to the hallway AND flips the perspective! Theo and Tommy are staring up… but Theo’s office furniture is now secured fastly to the ceiling.



Theo: My office has been turned completely upside down.



The image on the X-Tron shifts. We see Theo along with most of the management staff of the XWF standing on the XWF Boardroom Table as three undead moose menace them from the floor.



Theo: Animal Necromancy.


JC: Zombie megafauna!



Theo shakes his head in disbelief and disdain, though his tone emotes that this is just another run-of-the-mill prank one would pull. We see the image again change on the Xtron to show Theo having his hair professionally shampooed at a salon.

Theo grits his teeth, pointing at the X-Tron.


Theo: Head lice.


JC: Head lice!?!

BG: Don’t blame Bobby and TK for that! Maybe Theo got them from the other kids in his class!



Theo: It might have been someone’s kid, but I feel they’d take responsibility for head lice.



The image again shifts, this time showing Theo tied up and seated in a big kettle. A man in a chef’s hat wields a pepper mill above him while another is seen slicing a carrot up into the water.



Theo: Quote, unquote, “selling” me to Campbell’s soup.



Theo shakes his head in disdain. Human trafficking to canned food manufacturers is almost over the line, after all. The image on the Xtron fades.



Theo: Now, it goes without saying, we are all exactly aware of just which bastards are responsible for all of this, but why? I am calling Them No Good Bastards out here, right now, to get this resolved before it goes too far!



Theo stands and looks up the ramp to the grand Warfare stage.






Flynn: TED!



Theo’s eyes roll as Mark Flynn steps out onto the Warfare stage. He’s in a matching beige suit as Theo with his half of the tag team championships around his waist. His eyes are red and baggy… His front coat pocket has red yarn poking out of it! He makes his way down the ramp and scrambles between the ropes with the energy of a feral, sleep-deprived lab rat.



Flynn: I cracked the case, Teddy baby. ALL THE ANSWERS! EVERY ANSWER! I HAVE ‘EM ALL!

Theo: Mark, I do not have time for your shenanigans. I specifically requested the Bastards.


As Flynn drips into the ring, Theo gives Flynn a look up-and-down.


…where did you get that suit?



…Flynn stops his excited sputtering enough to extend his back, showing off the fabric.



Flynn: You like?



My investigation into Bobby and TK’s psychological prank-based Warfare, I called a number of your frequent contacts, to gather ground intel… Your tailor was #4 on your list… And apparently, you had enough account points for a free outfit.



Theo: I deeply regret that you did.



Theo’s statement does not seem to register.



Flynn: TEDWARD! I figured it out using the ol’ Mark Flynn secrets network! I contacted my attorney, Christopher K. Clinton! Clinton contacted his own P.I., Albert Poppinfresh! and Poppinfresh found THE SMOKING GUN! The EXACT REASON why the Bastards are being a proverbial thorn in your paw!

Theo: Don’t you mean ‘thorn in my side’?


…

Flynn: No.

…

The proverb is about a lion getting a thorn out of his paw from the help of a mouse, and I am your robust rodent today! A mouse couldn’t pull a thorn out of a SIDE! THINK, TEDBERT!

Theo: Okay.

Flynn: PLAY THE FOOTAGE!



JC: Mark Flynn has found some footage!

BG: He can call for that kind of stuff from the production staff now?



FOOTAGE:

We see Theo Pryce step into an elevator at the XWF Headquarters in Chicago. He checks his watch, and seeing he has an incoming call, he pulls his phone out. He places the receiver to his head and begins to speak.



Theo: Hello, Mr. Moore! Can I call you Phil?

…

Theo: Great, Phil. So, the XWF has showcased Double Dare, Legends of the Hidden Temple, and GUTS!, so of course we’re excited to step into the next Nickelodeon game show guaranteed to chock up nostalgia ratings.



Theo rolls his eyes, wishing he could get the rights for the Hey Dude reunion, but this could be huge. The elevator doors begin to close, but a chime is heard and they reopen. Theo looks confused, but listens to the call.



Theo: Great, Phil, glad to hear you’re on board! We’re going to have old Genesis games, along with Merlock, Scorcia, and Mongo, we can’t wait to have the Nick Arcade crossover!


Theo hangs up the phone… His smile fades… As he scrolls through his phone…

The camera catches his eyes dilate as he stares at an image.

The door again attempts to close, but a chime is heard. Theo looks at the ground and notices he dropped a pack of mints on the floor, blocking the door. He stoops to pick them up, unblocking the door, before returning his attention to his phone.

As he does, in through the office doors of the XWF main offices, we see Them No Good Bastards, Thunder Knuckles and Bobby Bourbon, running towards the elevator. Theo, not noticing them, turns.



TK: Hold the elevator for fuck’s sake!

Bobby: Seriously, it’s urgent!



TK is carrying a watermelon and a pickaxe while Bobby is carrying two duffel bags, one of which is sopping wet and dripping a purple liquid. As they approach, the elevator doors close behind Theo, none the wiser that TNGB needed to get upstairs with whatever bullshit they happened to be carrying.



END FOOTAGE

Flynn nods, eyes wide, as he points to the Xtron, waiting for the appropriate astonishment that comes with such a dramatic reveal!

Theo looks… somewhat baffled.



Theo: So… Okay, let’s start from the top.

Your private investigator…



Flynn cuts him off.



Flynn: My ATTORNEY’S private investigator!



Theo looks less happy than when he first came out.



Theo: Fine.

Your attorney’s…

…

Wait, wasn’t Albert Poppinfresh just Bourbon with a fake mustache?



JC: Check and mate from the boss!

BG: Um, yes, you’re right, Bobby Bourbon did operate as Albert Poppinfresh, fans!





Them No Good Bastards, Thunder Knuckles and Bobby Bourbon, make their way out onto the stage as the fans roar. TK is wearing his usual track pants and tank top while Bobby is in plaid shorts and a t-shirt that reads “Sassy But Classy”. Both men walk down to the ring as the fans sing along with their entrance music.

ASSHOLE, DIRTBAG, NO GOOD BASTARDS!

Bobby and TK roll into the ring and jaw at Flynn and Theo as they each make their way to opposite corners and stand on the second turnbuckles, posturing for the crowds. They then hop down and turn to face Theo and Flynn. TK demands a microphone from someone ringside as Bobby produces his signature foot long stick microphone as used on the Price is Right.



Bobby: Mark, you no good rat!

Flynn: No!

…

I’m the proverbial mouse!



Bobby: Proverbial my ass!



We were the tag team champions, we lost those championships to Ned Kaye and Prince Adayeme, and now you’re part of them!

There’s a special place in hell for traitors like that!



TK: Fuckin’ right, not that it matters, because sooner or later, Mark, we’re going to take your belt and Ned’s!



Flynn shakes his head, waving his hands!



Flynn: This is not about me!

…

Suddenly, Flynn sneers angrily.



Wait… why ISN’T this about me? Damn it! Teddy, make it about me!

Theo: Wait, if you guys are so pissed at Mark for, I guess questionably depriving you of the tag team championships, why do you keep pranking me?

TK: You saw the goddamned footage, Theo, we were in a rush! It was time sensitive!

Bobby: Yeah, and moreover…



Bobby glares at Theo, then Mark, then Theo, as he and TK nod in agreement.



Bobby: WE WERE BORED!



The crowd starts to chant, shaking the entire Crypto.com Arena!

*THEY WERE BORED!*THEY WERE BORED!*THEY WERE BORED!*

Theo looks around in awe. Flynn has a conniption.



Flynn: SHUT UP!

THAT IS THE DUMBEST CHANT EVER!



Theo cocks an eyebrow and looks at Bobby as the crowd settles down.



Theo: So, you’re bored, huh? Think there’s nothing left to challenge the mighty Bastards anymore?



Bobby shakes his head as TK smirks.



TK: Theo, you went out and got the greatest talent you could find from all across wrestling, from every promotion on the fuckin’ planet, and we beat ‘em all.

Bobby: Face facts, Pryce, you find any two fools dumb enough to call themselves a challenge to us, and we’ll smash them like I did your desk a year ago!

*OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!*



JC: The Bastards living up to their name in telling their own boss how they’ll do their jobs!

BG: Jack, TNGB are good, and the problem is they absolutely know it, and it isn’t just that they won’t take crap from anyone, they’ll start it with anyone too!



Theo: Fine, if that’s how you feel, then how about you put up or shut up?

Do you think anybody wants to team up with you guys as arrogant as you are?

How about me and two partners against you, and, if you can find anyone willing to fight alongside you anymore, a partner of your choosing…

AT RELENTLESS!



The crowd goes absolutely unhinged at the thought, louder than before.



Flynn: Yeah! Teddy, Me, and our third against the two of you and I guess whatever happened to Chuckles!



Theo’s eyes dart towards Flynn.



Theo: Mark, I didn’t…

Flynn: Don’t worry, Teddy! We got this!



Flynn points at Bobby, then at TK, then back to Bobby.



Flynn: I will DESTROY you!



Bobby and TK are both laughing.



Theo: You know what?

You think this is funny?

You can look under any rock anywhere on earth and you won’t find another bastard to help you out now!

Bobby: You’re right, Theo, we won’t find another bastard to help us in time for Relentless…

TK: But we know just the nasty fucker who will.

Bobby: He might not be a bastard…

TK: But he is a Sick Cunt!



JC: NO WAY!

BG: You don’t mean…







The fans in Los Angeles go absolutely berserk hearing the song play in the arena as both Theo and Flynn turn and look up the ramp at the stage!


JC:  Noah Jackson!

BG:  The sickest of sick cunts is on Warfare!

---

JC:  We’re back here LIVE in Los Angeles for Warfare and Brody?  Up next, the second of two title matches as Jason Cashe defends against XWF newcomer, Aurora.

BG:  Listen, two weeks ago in New York, Aurora pushed Dionysus to the limit.  Dionysus, as you know, is the number one contender to the TV title and while Aurora didn’t win, she sure as hell turned some heads!

JC:  You’re absolutely right and I’d be lying if I wasn’t entirely intrigued by this contest tonight!  It has been well documented just what a run Jason Cashe has been on since taking the TV title back in April.  Week after week he’s successfully defended that title and we’ve gone on record saying that he’s mastered the fifteen minute time limit.

BG:  We have, but there’s one caveat.  There’s one thing that we’ve failed to mention these last weeks and that’s that Jason Cashe, while he has certainly mastered the fifteen minute match, he’s also damn good at what he does!

JC:  He really is and I feel like we’ve kind of done him a disservice of late by suggesting that he’s merely mastered a set of parameters.  The general consensus is, that Jason Cashe, even if he had not been hamstrung in a way by a time limit, would still be the Television Champion no matter who he’s beaten these last several months.

BG:  He’s had a dominant reign as TV champ and Jacuinde, tonight he looks to notch one more successful defense!


RA:  The following contest is a Ladder Match for the XWF Television championship!





All lights in the arena go dark and James Hetfield's opening vocals of Metallica's "The Memory Remains" blares suddenly over the public announce speakers. A minimal yet vocal minority of the fans in attendance shout the first lyrics aloud along with the singer:



The lights and the big screen both stay completely black. A single word appears on the screen:

. . : : A U R O R A : : . .

The guitar and drums come crashing in, along with the rest of the instrumental section. 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. A smoke machine billows from beneath her, partially obscuring the view.


RA:  Making her way to the ring at this time, she hails from Arizona Bay. Ladies and Gentlemen, AURORA!


Aurora walks through the smoke and 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 smoke that has gathered around the ceiling of the arena. She pauses for a few moments staring upward before turning and entering the ring.


JC:  Aurora!  Looking primed and ready here tonight!

BG:  She has an incredible opportunity tonight, Jacuinde!

JC:  She has the opportunity to defeat Jason Cashe!  That’s a big f…

BG:  Functional…

JC:  DEAL!


RA:  Annnnnd her 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 champion… 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:  As Rochelle says, the reigning, defending Television champion!

BG:  One day, someone will unseat this man as champion!  Until then, we salute the most dominant champion that bleeds the black ‘n’ blue!

XWF Television Championship Jason Cashe © - vs - Aurora -15 Minute Time Limit - Ladder Match-

The bell rings and the 15 minute clock begins.  Cashe, quick to point it out to a pop from the L.A. crowd.  Aurora applauds and steps forward.  Cashe does the same and the two go to lock horns.  Aurora though, has other ideas as she drives the left side of her head into the side of Cashe’s face that staggers him instantly.


JC:  What an intelligent start from Aurora!

BG:  It was just a little headbutt, Jacuinde!

JC:  Yeah but she has a titanium plate in there!

BG:  … oh… DISQUALIFY HER!


Aurora goes to run to the ropes, but Cashe is quick to grab a handful of her hair which halts her momentum.  Thinking quickly as she leaves her feet, she backflips, landing a nice pele kick into the side of the head of Jason Cashe which once again throws him for a loop.

Back to her feet, she continues to go right after the TV champion.  This time she charges forward and drives a knee into the midsection of Cashe.  Then another.  She then grabs him by his head and neck and repeatedly drives both knees into him before he finally is able to shrug her off.

Aurora backpedals for a moment as Cashe hits the mat on his ass.  The two look at each other and Cashe takes a moment to exit the ring.


JC:  There’s no time outs in wrestling, Mr. Cashe!

BG:  Yes there is!  They happen literally all the time.

JC:  Maybe, but from Jason Cashe!?

BG:  So?  She caught him off guard!

JC:  It could be a bad omen for the reign of Jason Cashe!


Cashe stays out on the floor running his mouth to no one in particular, but keeps his head pointed in Aurora’s direction.  Aurora stands in the ring, leaning with her hands on her knees.  Like Cashe, her eyes don’t leave her opponent.  Then, without warning, Aurora shoots across the ring and leaps to the top rope.  She looks to jump and Cashe side steps out of the way.


JC:  She saw that coming!

BG:  NOW she leaps!


Once she hits the top rope, she fakes her initial leap.  Aurora jumps and crashes down on top of an unsuspecting Jason Cashe on the outside.  Aurora gets back to her feet and gets to the ring apron.  Cashe meanwhile is reeling away as he struggles back to his feet.  As he gets to his feet, he searches in vain for his opponent.  As he rounds the corner, Aurora bolts across the ring apron and dives off, driving both knees into the unsuspecting TV champion with a meteora variant.


BG:  Fickle god damn crowd!

JC:  Watch it, Brody!

BG:  They were behind Cashe at the start and now they’ve suddenly switched sides!

JC:  They just like what they see from the challenger!


Four minutes have elapsed as Aurora gets back to her feet on the floor.  She searches beneath the ring, peeling away the ring apron.  She drags out a table to a pop from the crowd.  On that table is a number of chairs and kendo sticks.  Aurora tosses two chairs and two kendo sticks into the ring before setting up the table.

Cashe starts to get to his feet and Aurora is right on him as she clubs him along the neck then directs him into the ring.  She climbs back onto the apron and measures Cashe.  Just before Cashe gets upright, Aurora attempts a springboard.  Just as she springs forward, Cashe is there to drive his shoulder into her.  Aurora’s momentum is then thrust backward and she falls hard through the table she just set up.


BG:  Ohhhh how the turntables… just…

JC:  Quit while you’re ahead, Brody!  Aurora crashes through that table and the TV champion knows has the opening he’s needed!

BG:  And he wastes little time as he seeks out the ladder from ringside!


Cashe slides the ladder into the ring and goes to work once he’s back inside as he attempts to eye the title suspended above the ring.  He takes a quick peek toward Aurora who hasn’t moved yet before beginning the twelve to fifteen foot climb into the heavens.

Rung by rung, Cashe climbs.  Once in a while, he peeks out to his side to look for Aurora, pleasantly surprised she still lies within the rubble of the busted and splintered table.


JC:  We’re nearing the half way point of this contest as Jason Cashe is now just moments away from successfully defending his TV championship!

BG:  It doesn’t matter how it starts!  The only thing that matters is how it ends and Jason Cashe may be the best closer in the entire business!


Cashe reaches up…


Still needs to climb one more rung.


He steps up on more time and reaches, touching the TV title with the tips of his fingers.


Cashe takes one more step and grabs a hold of the TV title…









SMACK













Cashe is struck in the head with a flying chair!  The blow nearly makes him fall from the ladder, but somehow he finds the will to hang on for dear life.  Aurora meanwhile, stands on the top rope and leaps across, landing with her feet on the ladder.  Quickly she ascends and she and Cashe are trying to fight each other off the ladder.


JC:  Both of these competitors are in a precarious position!

BG:  Whoever loses this battle may just lose the war, Jacuinde!

JC:  Time is a tickin’ so I might agree!


Cashe stuns Aurora with an elbow blow to the non-titanium side of her head.  He then drives her face first into the top of the ladder which very nearly makes her fall off.  He tries a second time but she catches him with a punch right in his face.  It stuns him enough that she’s able to send a sort of roundhouse kick right into his temple.


He teeters…



Totters….


Tries not to fall down…


But ends up taking the ladder with him!


JC:  Down goes Cashe!

BG:  And the ladder went with him!

JC:  But where is Aurora!?


Cashe crashes hard to the mat below but he wills himself through the pain of the landing to struggle back to his feet.  As he does, he searches for Aurora, then looks up.  Hanging high above the ring with her feet flailing, is the challenger.  She hangs on for dear life from the TV title snapped and fastened securely to the suspension ring above the mat.

Cashe tries to reach her but can’t.


JC:  Oh my!

BG:  He gotta hope her grip gives way before the snaps on the strap do!

JC:  If those snaps give way and she has a hold of that belt, she’s the new champion!


Time dips below five minutes remaining as Cashe frantically thinks of what to do.  Grabbing the ladder, he folds it back up and stabs at Aurora as the snaps begin to give way.  She does her best to keep kicking the ladder away and finally, Cashe drops the ladder and picks up a kendo stick.


JC:  What’s he thinkin’ here?

BG:  He’s thinkin’ Aurora is about to luck into defeating him for the TV title and he’s gotta stop that from happening at all costs!


He swings the kendo stick at Aurora as if she were a pinata at a kids birthday party.  She swings her legs, wildly trying to avoid his swings.  The snaps on the strap, again begin to unfasten themselves and only two rows now secure the title to the suspension ring.

Cashe swings, she kicks, he stops, and quickly swings again landing a direct shot into the pelvic bone between her legs.  The crowd oooh’s and ahhhh’s as Aurora loses her grip on the TV title.  Cashe though catches her out of mid air and delivers a thunderous power bomb to the would-be TV champion.


JC:  My GOD!

BG:  That was a sickening impact, Jacuinde!  Cashe got this won if he can get to the top of that ladder!

JC:  I question the wisdom of putting her in this type of match!  Not because of her opponent, but because of the ring rust I’m sure she has!


Back to his feet, Cashe looks down with a worried look on his face.  It’s short lived though as he turns his attention to the ladder.  Lifting it from the mat, he considers setting it up again, but instead turns to Aurora who remains flat on her back.  Cashe stands over his worthy challenger and goes to stab the ladder down into her head.  Aurora blocks it though, then holds onto the ladder for dear life as Cashe struggles to take it back from her.


JC:  OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH God that hurt!

BG:  I felt that one myself!


Aurora sends her foot square into Cashe’s junk.  Cashe is stopped in his tracks as he nurses the boys and backs away, bent over.  Aurora meanwhile, wills herself to her feet.


JC:  Any normal competitor wouldn’t have gotten up from that vicious makeshift powerbomb a little bit ago.

BG:  As she’s proven these last few weeks, she's anything but normal.


Fighting through the pain and agony no doubt radiating through her back, Aurora finds a chair.  Staggering and stumbling, she comes across the ring at the very much distracted Jason Cashe and wallops him across his back.  Cashe arches his back and Aurora hits him over the head with the same chair.  The chair itself opens up and finds itself inadvertently wrapped around Cashe’s head and neck as he falls to the mat.

Aurora begins setting up the ladder as time begins ticking under three minutes.  She returns her attention to Cashe.


JC:  He’s been defending that belt long enough that he’s gotta have some internal clock to let him know how much time he’s got!

BG:  And Aurora is tryin’ to unplug it!


Aurora jumps to the middle rope as Cashe, with the chair wrapped around his head, gets to his hands and knees.  She leaps off the middle rope…


JC:  Starburst Sonata!

BG:  OH MY GOD!

JC:  CLIMB THAT LADDER AURORA!

BG:  I CAN’T BELIEVE WHAT I’M SEEIN’!


Aurora did not stick the landing.  Instead, her leg buckled on the curb stomp landing.  However, she drags herself toward the ladder and starts the long climb toward the top.  With one leg clearly giving out on her, she’s forced to basically pull herself up with her arms which may no doubt pose their own problems.


BG:  C’mon Cashe!  Your legacy is at stake!  Your title is slippin’ through your fingers!

JC:  I think he might hear you!


Despite everything, Cashe, still with the chair wrapped around his head, crawls toward the ladder as Aurora muscles herself up higher and higher.  Cashe though, isn’t far below.  His balls ache, his kidneys and lower back are aflame as a result and his bell is clearly rung, but he got his arms and legs as he catches up to Aurora near the top.

Aurora reaches for the belt and gets a fingertip on it only for Cashe to punch her square in the mouth.  The shot from Cashe nearly makes her fall off the ladder but she quickly steadies herself and sends a shot right back.

Then Cashe.

Then Aurora.

Cashe again.

Aurora again.

Cashe goes again, but Aurora ducks it and grabs a hold of the chair and yanks it toward her to smash Cashe’s face off the top of the ladder.  Cashe blocks with his arms and Aurora slips and nearly loses her grip.  She falls but maintains the grip on the chair which traps Cashe’s head against the ladder.

Cashe tries to reach up and back a little but he can’t see the belt as Aurora tries to choke the life out of him.  With Jason Cashe quickly fading, the crowd is on their feet as the time clock dips below one minute to go.  In danger of her sweaty hands losing her grip on the chair, Aurora finds her footing on the ladder which releases the innovative choke hold on Cashe as the duo dance precariously atop the ladder.

Aurora reaches over the top and grabs Cashe by his head but he springs back to life and repays the favor from a moment ago as he turns his head and mashes it against the chair and grabs Aurora by her head and pulls her throat first against the crossmember between the legs of the chair.

She flails away at first but despite the choke hold, she starts reaching for the TV title.  Cashe can spy it, but he gambles on himself.  Aurora gets her hand on the back of the strap, but her lights go out at that instant.

The TV champion can feel her go limp and he lets go of the other innovative chokehold.  She teeters for just a moment before Cashes face shoves her from the ladder.  Aurora sails through the air and lands hard with a crash into the mat below.

Cashe meanwhile, after watching her fall, reaches up and successfully secures his TV title.

WINNER AND STILL XWF Television Champion Jason Cashe

JC:  Cashe has done it!

BG:  Aurora was game all match though!

JC:  With just four seconds to spare, Jason Cashe has secured another Television title defense and you know what that means, Brody!

BG:  That’s right!  A 30 minute iron man match WILL take place at Relentless with Dionysus tryin’ to do what no one else can, and that’s unseat this utterly dominant Television Champion!

JC:  Aurora came to fight tonight and she no doubt gave Jason Cashe everything he could handle!

BG:  She’s hurtin’ right now, no doubt, but I hope she’s proud of her effort tonight!

JC:  Both her and Cashe put their bodies on the line tonight in their quest for that championship that Cashe holds so dear to him!

BG:  It was not to be for Aurora tonight, but some day soon, I have no doubt that XWF gold will come calling again!

JC:  Yet to come folks, the Universal title is on the line.  STAY WITH US!

---

The ramp is empty other than the three statues, a fourth one is still covered. A podium is set up in the middle of the statues. From behind the curtain walks…


**Static**
He’s
**Static**
Here
**Static**


Antw’an Swisher. He looks a little bit different than the video but that could be blamed on the camera quality. He confidently walks to the podium and taps the mic.


“Is this thing on?”


Feedback reverberates.


“Good. Good.”


He turns and looks at the statues and smiles. He spins around and chuckles to himself.


“A job well done. But something about these three just isn’t sitting right with me. I can’t quite put my finger on it. I dug and dug until I hit the core with all of them. I tried to find their weaknesses and do you know what I found?”


Antw’an pauses for a second, before walking up to the Centurion statue. His voice could be heard over the mic.


“He’s the odd one out. I think I was told to put him here out of pity. Well I’m not here to give anyone pity. I’m not here to bend a knee to people.”


Antw’an begins rocking the statue back and forth. As it builds momentum it falls to the ground and shatters upon impact. Antw’an then turns his attention to the Gambino statue.


“This fucking guy couldn’t get out of his own way. Deposit people telling him the right way to do things, he felt it was his duty to preserve the history of the XWF. He failed. He flopped. He left. He can go too.”


A man appears from behind the curtain and begins to help Antw’an rock the statue, after a brief moment it too has fallen to the ground and shattered.


“And then there’s this fucking guy.”


He points to Steve Jason’s bust.


“He always fought for what was right. He never wavered… until he did. He left the XWF. He left all of you. Without so much as a See Ya Later. Just poof. Gone. Now you can’t even mention the XWF to the guy without him getting shitty with you. When the XWF needed him most. When it truly needed a Hero… he was nowhere to be found.”


The man taps Antw’an on the shoulder.


Man: I’ll take it from here.


Antw’an nods and walks to the back.


The voice is familiar.


He says nothing and shoves the Steve Jason statue to the ground. The head rolls to his feet. The man looks down on it and raises his foot. In one clean motion the bust shatters. The camera pans up as the man slowly raises his hood.


**Static**
The
**Static**
…..

**Static**
Afterthought
**Static**

…..


The crowd is silent in disbelief.


…..


…..


JC:  It’s SHAWN WARSTEIN!

BG:  HOLY.  FUCKING.  SHIT.


After a moment the building erupts. Shawn soaks it all in and pulls a mic from his back pocket.


Shawn Warstein: Did you figure it out? It was a simple anagram. Antw’an Swisher is Shawn Warstein. I always knew I could depend on the XWF faithful to be so fucking stupid. Hook Line and Sinker. I bring you the biggest names from the past and you ate it up.


Shawn looks down in all the debris and sits down in the middle of it all.


Shawn Warstein: Those three are not what it means to be an XWF Hero. The XWF was never built on its heroes , it was always about the villains. Those three left you all in very different ways. Steve vanished. John’s ego got too inflated and Centurion just could never get the job done.


Shawn slowly stands up.


Shawn Warstein: When I came back in 2019 I carried the flag for the past. I showed that the old era would never be surpassed in skill. In marketability. In any other metric you wanted to count on. I was at the top. I left. But unlike Steve I came back. Unlike John, I know what I am. And unlike Centurion, I can get the job done.


Shawn pauses for a moment and holds his hand up to the crowd.


Shawn Warstein: Now that the past is shattered, let’s talk about the future. Let’s talk about Relentless. There’s only one man in this company that I’m here for this time. He’s bombarded me over and over again.


Shawn sighs and shrugs.


Shawn Warstein: It’s Okay COREY BLACK, Senpai has noticed you. I really hope it’s everything you want it to be.


Shawn simply drops the mic and walks back through the curtain.


JC:  Shawn Warstein!  Like his Sick Cunt compadre Noah Jackson!

BG:  LIVE!  ON WARFARE!

JC:  Warstein versus Corey Black at Relentless!?

---

RA: The following match is scheduled for ONE FALL! And it is for the XWF UNIVERSAL CHAMPIONSHIP!!!





The opening riff of The hangman's body count by Volbeat starts to play throughout the arena as the lights dim. Several red and purple laser lights envelope the stage as Matthias Syn casually walks through the curtain.


RA: First, the challenger! At six foot three! Weighing in at 235 pounds… He is THE SYN CITY SAINT! MATHIAAAAAAAAAAS SYYYYYYYYYYYYN!!!


JC: Here he comes! The Revolution Champion! Matthias Syn! And Syn’s not only the Revolution champion, but he’s promised to start a revolution within the XWF!

BG: A revolution isn’t built in a day, Jacko. But, beating the reigning Universal champion would certainly topple a lot of well-laid plans, literally TWO WEEKS before the biggest weekend in the XWF calendar year… So, you KNOW that means Matthias Syn is going to do everything in his power to make that happen!


As he steps onto the stage, he stops and acknowledges the crowd by stretching both arms forward while touching his balled up fists together. After several seconds he begins to nonchalantly walk down the ramp towards the ring, not allowing the fans to touch him. He slides under the bottom rope, jumps to his feet and poses on the ropes. As he drops down from the ropes he takes off his red leather shearling coat, hands it to the ring girl and sits on the middle turnbuckle awaiting his opponent.


JC: Matthias Syn has been dominant in recent weeks! Securing wins on Anarchy over John Black, Summer Page and even current X-Treme champion, Misty Waters!

BG: The Syn City Saint has been turning heads and shocking crowds since he came up inches short vying for a briefcase Leap of Faith… And now he’s facing the man that beat him. One-on-one.





RA:  From Brooklyn, New York, at six feet! weighing in at  224 pounds, he is the UNIVERSAL CHAMPION… ‘NOTORIOOOOOOOOOUS’ NEDDDD KAAAAAAAYE!


The arena flashes white as spotlights from around the venue converge at the entrance room as "You Know My Name" begins playing bombastically. As the lyrics start, Ned Kaye stands at the point where the spotlights merge to thunderous applause. He lifts his fist up in the air, awaiting the crowd to do the same… They respond by raining down boos.


JC:  Ned Kaye secured the XWF Universal championship by cashing in his 24/7 Leap of Faith briefcase again Sebastian Everett-Bryce!

BG:  I think he imagined it as a homecoming for the belt! Returning the Universal title back to where it belongs… around the waist of a ‘true’ XWF talent.

JC:  And these crowds have let him know they disagree! They feel betrayed by Ned cashing in to take the Universal title!


Kaye drops his first, before rushing down to the ring, serenaded by blue hues that light up the ramp following his 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. He 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. Jumping a bit from the adrenaline, he makes his way to his corner as he prepares for the bell.


JC:  Ned Kaye DID defeat a field of seven other XWF competitors to secure his briefcase, one of those men being Matthias Syn! Do you figure that gives Kaye the edge here tonight?

BG:  Two points against that, Jack. One, this ain’t a scramble like the Leap of Faith match was… It’s one fall to a finish. Second, Matthias Syn, since coming off that lost opportunity, has been in top for, going undefeated!

JC:  Can’t argue with either statement, Brod-Dawg. Either man would be foolish in thinking they dont have to give this one everything they’ve got!

BG:…. Brod-Dawg?


Kaye and Syn meet, center of the ring.

The official raises the Universal Title between them to the crowd! The crowd cheers, ready for their main event!

As the official raises the Uni, Syn raises his own Revolution title in the air… When the official hands it over the ropes to the timekeeper, Syn tosses his belt into his corner…

The bell rings!

XWF Universal Championship Ned Kaye © - vs - Matthias Syn -Traditional Rules-

Kaye circle-steps, ready for a struggle for control in the opening!

…But Syn keeps his feet on the mat… and extends a hand.

The crowd is a mixture of cheers and boos as the Universal champion stares at the olive branch extended by the smiling wild card…


JC: Syn had strong words for Kaye this week, calling him ‘boring’ and a ‘phony’, but he seems keen to show respect to his opponent before the match.

BG: Something about the brotherhood of wrestling, Jack. You can talk shit in your promos, but it ain’t personal once the bell rings.


Ned eyes Syn’s hand skepti-

WHAP! SYN’S HAND WHIPS AND CLIPS THE CHAMP STRAIGHT IN THE EAR!


JC: Sneak attack by Matthias Syn!

BG: …Okay, disregard my earlier statement. This is about to get *very* personal!


Kaye clasps the side of his head, driven back into the ropes! Syn, not keen to leave an advantage unexploited, springs…

INAZUMA LEG LARIAT! Ned’s chest gets WALLOPED, driving him up and over the top rope, onto the floor!


JC: What an opening flurry of dirty tricks and ambushes by Matthias Syn!

BG: But in the court of the XWF Universe, seems like they think Syn’s antics are fair play!


Indeed, the crowd cheers for Syn like a hometown hero, as the Syn City Saint rolls under the bottom rope, by the side of the ring…

Kaye slowly gathers himself up to his feet, bending at the waist… as Syn rounds the corner, leaps off the steel steps…

DOUBLE FOOT STOMP STRAIGHT TO KAYE’S BACK!

Kaye’s knees collapse as he’s crushed onto his front!

Syn cackles, putting his fists together as the crowd screams for him!


JC: I don’t think anyone could have predicted this opening to our main event tonight! Kaye let his guard down for a split-second and ever since then, this match has been ALL Matthias Syn!

BG: How delicious would it be, Jack! If the opportunist briefcase cashed lost his belt because of a surprise attack!


Syn stuffs Kaye under the bottom rope, before rolling in after him and… planting a boot on Ned’s chest.

The official counts…

1!

2!

Kaye throws a shoulder off the mat!


JC: Not the best pinning technique for someone seeking the Universal title!

BG: Syn, clearly trying to add an insult for every injury he’s inflicting on the Universal champion!


When Kaye kicks out, Syn raises his boot and STOMPS Kaye straight in the stomach!

Syn spins around… And does a FLAWLESS backflip! Landing with his chest right across Ned’s throat! STANDING MOONSAULT!


BG: Wow! Syn is putting on a clinic!


Syn hooks the leg properly this time!

1!

2!

Kaye kicks out again!


JC: Kaye survives… But he’s gotta find some way to get out of the starting block if he wants even a chance of escaping with the Universal title tonight!


Syn mounts Ned, wrapping his mitts around the Notorious One’s throat, seeking an illegal choke!

The official steps up to start a co-

Ned latches his arms around Syn’s choking arm, drawing him in! He wraps his arm around Syn’s sk-

Syn slips out, backing up into the ropes! As Ned backward rolls onto his feet!


BG: What the hell was Ned going for there, Jacko?

JC: To me, that looked like Kaye was going for a gogoplata submission! If Ned had latched that on, he could’ve ended the match with a single counter!

BG: Has he ever tried a gogoplata before? Where’s he been hiding that in his arsenal?!?

JC: Ned Kaye is full of surprises!


The two charge each other

Syn swings in with a kick…

Ned ducks! Ned fires a spinning back fist!

But Syn slips backward, narrowly avoiding the strike’s radius!

Syn launches a boot into Ned’s gut!

Ned catches it! Ned tosses Syn’s leg around…

But Syn spins with the counter… And catches Ned in the jaw! Enzuigiri kick! Ned spins, cradling his jaw…

Syn, once again, tries to spring into action, exploiting an offensive opening…

When Ned Kaye launches a BACKFLIP! Pelé Kick square into Matthias Syn’s face! Both men drop to the mat!

The crowd leaps to their feet, starting a chant of…


HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!


Kaye and Syn slowly scramble up to their feet… Kaye surges forward, seeking a collar-and-elbow tie-up…

JC: Kaye seeking to slow this one down!

BG: Smart move! Syn creates his opportunities in chaos… If Ned wants to keep his belt, he’s gonna need to keep things real orderly out here!


As Kaye as Syn jockey for control, Syn slips in a fist, seeking to box Ned in the throat!

…But, Ned deftly counters, grabbing Syn by the wrist, and securing a hammerlock, wrenching Syn’s arm against his own back!

Kaye applies pressure and torque, driving Syn’s head toward the mat… Syn tries to wrench out, with a back fist!

But Ned catches that fist!


JC: Matthias Syn is getting caught deeper and deeper into Kaye’s labyrinthine knowledge of wrestling counters…


Kaye takes the hammerlock… And twists Syn into a front facelock! Then tears off a vertical, dropping Syn’s entire body weight onto his pretzeled arm! Hammerlock suplex!

Syn cradles his arm, squeezing it against his chest in agony, as Ned shoves Matthias onto his back, hooking the leg!

1!

T-SYN KICKS OUT AT ONE, shoving Kaye by the face off of him!

The crowd cheers ar the Syn City Saint’s defiant display!


BG: Syn may be in trouble but he’s still got the crowd in his corner!


Kaye… clearly miffed, either by Syn’s opening unsportsmanlike conduct, or the crowd’s clear approval of that conduct, grabs his opponent by the arm Syn just used to shove him off and latches his legs around Syn’s shoulder, leaning back against the mat! ARM BAR!

Kaye twists the arm, agonizingly grinding the joint against its own socket!


JC: Pure pain, folks! That’s what the Notorious One is inflicting with that hold!


Syn grits his teeth, as the official gets close to his face, asking if he wants to continue!

Kaye wraps his mitt around Syn’s wrist, ready to twist even harder!

…

Syn!

SYN!

…

Syn presses himself off the mat with his back!

And shoves Ned’s shoulders against the mat!

The official, surprised by the counter, falls to the mat and counts!

1!

2!

THREEEE-NO! Kaye forces his shoulder off the mat, milliseconds before the three!


JC: SO CLOSE! We almost had a new champion there!

BG: If the official had been a little more prepared to count, that *could* have been three!


Kaye kicks out with authority, shoving Syn against his corner… Syn almost backpedals into kicking the Revolution title he tossed earlier in the match.

Kaye springs toward the corner, fist cocked back…

SUPERMAN PU-

Syn forward rolls out of the way! And Kaye’s connects with the turnbuckle padding…


JC: Ouch!


Kaye spins ‘round, cradling his fist… As Syn springs, boots out…

Catching Ned with a TRADEMARK NED KAYE SHOTGUN DROPKICK!


BG: WOW! Matthias just stole Ned’s dropkick!

JC: Both these competitors are bringing every secret weapon they have to this match!


Kaye is crushed against the turnbuckle, when Syn grasps him in a front facelock… then steps up to the second rope, spinning off the turnbuckle!

TORNADO DDT! Kaye gets dropped straight into his skull!

Syn latches onto Kaye’s leg, hooking it, screaming at the official to count! He does!

1!

2!

THREEEEE-NO!

Off of PURE INSTINCT, Ned Kaye kicks out!


JC: OH MY GOD! How close was that?!?

BG: Inches away! We were THIS close to the culmination of the Matthias Syn revolution!


Kaye shakes off cobwebs, rising back to his feet, as Syn grasps Kaye in a front facelock, seeking a SYNthesis…

But Kaye shoves Syn into the turnbuckle! Syn blocks his face from connecting with the turnbuckle…

Ned falls to one knee. The official checks on Ned, asking if he’s good to continue the match…

Syn instead shoves himself off the corner, extending his leg! SUPERKICK!

Ned sidesteps out of the way…

BUT THE OFFICIAL EATS A SUPERKICK STRAIGHT TO THE FACE, DROPPING THE ZEBRA LIKE A BIG GAME HUNTER!

The crowd gasps! Syn is like… eh, shrugging at the collateral damage. He spins around…

And gets scooped into fireman’s carry position onto the Universal champion’s shoulders!


JC: This could do it! EGO DEATH!


Kaye turns to face the hard-cam! He sends his opponent up!

And over!

…

BUT MATTHIAS SYN LANDS ON HIS FEET!

Syn defensively rolls into the corner, scooping…
The Revolution Title!

Syn spins around…

Kaye lines up a Notorious Knee!

But Syn sidesteps it!

Both men spin!

AND SYN CLOCKS KAYE WITH THE REVOLUTION TITLE!


JC: OH MY GOD! THIS IS IT! NEW UNIVERSAL CHAMPION THE SHOW BEFORE RELENTLESS!

BG: THE REVOLUTION IS HERE, JACK!


Syn tosses the belt under the bottom rope, and smiles wide as he hooks the leg!

1!

2!

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

…

…..

The crowd counts aloud!

But the official is still unconscious!!!


JC: There’s no official to count the fall! Syn’s chaotic methods knocked out the Universal champion…

BG: But also knocked out the official he needed to count the three!


Syn exhaled impatiently, running his hands over his face…

He storms suddenly off the mat, hovering over the unconscious referee!

Syn stands over and THROTTLES the official by the shirt!


JC: That is NOT traditional resuscitation methodology!

BG: Though it appears to be effective enough for Syn’s purposes!


Indeed, good for Syn, the official begins to stir…

Bad for Syn, so does the Universal champion…

Syn grasps Kaye in a front facelock… and starts to twists the Notorious One’s neck, looking for a SYNthesis!

…Syn rotates into reverse cutter position…

…

But Ned shoves Syn away into the ropes!

Syn bounces off the ropes back toward Kaye… Who backs up into the ropes…

AND HITS A NOTORIOUS KNEE, catching the Syn City Saint square in the skull!

Syn spins… As Kaye scoops him onto his shoulders!

EGO DEATH! (Burning Hammer)!

The Universal champion hooks the leg!

As the official crawls across the mat into the cover!

1!







2!















THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

WINNER AND STILL XWF UNIVERSAL CHAMPION: NED KAYE!

Kaye cradles his ribs…. As the timekeeper slides the belt out to the center of the ring to the champion!


JC: What a battle tonight! What an absolute slobber knocker! The champion looks battered! The challenger looks devastated! Even the official looks like he’s been through war!

BG: Matthias Syn waged a battle for the ages! He proved he’s got the stuff to hang at the top of the card! But Ned Kaye withstood every Syn had and keeps the Universal title heading into Relentless!

JC: But how excited can he be… When in two short weeks, he’ll be facing S-





JC: OH MY GOD!

BG: And business just picked up!



Ned cradles the belt to his chest, stumbling back to his feet…

As 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.


JC: Ya gotta imagine, Ned is imagining if this is how SEB felt… Having survived an absolute slobberknocker by the skin of his teeth… And then having someone storm the ring when you’re most vulnerable!

BG: But the difference, Jack, is this! SEB doesn’t have a briefcase! He has no means to cash-in on the Universal champion tonight!

JC: But, SEB will face Ned in two short weeks at the main event of Relentless! Which raises the question… What does he want with Ned Kaye tonight?!?


The lights lift, and SEB makes his way to the ring, stretching his neck from side to side as he walks, his eyes focused on the ring. He climbs up the steps and steps 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 before pulling back his hood and removing 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?!)"


Ned is up on his feet… breathing heavily… He drops the Universal Title at his feet, raising his dukes…

As SEB stares across the ring at his opponent! The man who robbed him of his Universal Title!

The crowd screams ‘SEB! SEB! SEB!’


JC: This crowd is making their opinion known!


Ned steps forward, then backward… Looking for an opening…

As SEB keeps his footing…


BG: This is exactly how SEB took out Charlie Nickles a few months ago! Waiting for his opponent to get too close!


Ned backs up into the corner…

SEB extends his arm…

As Ned springs out of the corner!

SEB opens his hand to shake… But his eyes widen as Ned…

DECKS SEB to the mat!


JC: Whoa! I think SEB was going for a pre-match handshake! A sign of respect!

BG: Well did Ned see that? Did he decided he wasn’t getting burnt again, like he did by Syn!


SEB lies on the mat rubbing his jaw as Ned retreats under the bottom rope, the crowd booing!


JC: It’s not clear if Ned thought he was defending himself… Or if he just saw an opening and struck… but this crowd is NOT happy!

BG: Of course they aren’t happy! To them, this is just another example of Ned ambushing SEB!


…Ned backs up the ramp as SEB rises to his feet, staring daggers at his opponent… spitting the taste out of his mouth to the padded concrete

SEB nods, eyeing Kaye, ‘okay… gonna be like that, huh?’ As Kaye lifts the Universal Title with one arm… And his fist with the other!


JC:  JOIN US!  IN THREE WEEKS!

BG:  AT RELENTLESS!

---

SPECIAL THANKS: Jonathan Bacchus Kieran King Jett Sterling Misty Waters Peter Principle SHAWN!  FUCKING!  WARSTEIN! Theo Pryce The Bastards Mark Flynn