March - 10 - 2025 LIVE FROM PPG PAINTS ARENA PITTSBURGH, PENNSYLVANIA Terry “Scoops” McGee - vs - Larry Tact Enigma - vs - Latoya Hixx Ides of March Tournament - Quarter Final Tropical Punch - vs - Matthias Syn Ides of March Tournament - Quarter Final Sarah Wolf - vs - Kieran King Dolly Waters - vs - Johnny Bacchus

Warfare opens with a massive pyro display as the Pittsburgh chapter of the XWF Universe greets us wildly.  Some of them probably even have teeth.


JC:  Welcome to Warfare, wrestling fans! We have a huge night in store, including a bumper main event.

BG:  That’s right - a huge main event between Jonathan Bacchus and Dolly Waters.

JC:  But before we get kicked off with the action - we have a rare treat. Thaddeus Duke is in the ring.

BG:  With a table, some chairs, and what we can only guarantee will be some kind of fight!


The cameras move off the cheering crowd and focus on Thad, who stands at the head of the table, microphone in hand.


For the past six months, two men have been headin’ towards a collision.  But until now, we’ve had little more than words.  Well… The time for talk, is over.  So right now - I would like to ask Sebastian Everett-Bryce and Johnny …I’m not calling you Jonathan… Bacchus to come out here so we can make official the worst kept secret in wrestling today.





The camera focuses on the stage as the lights cut and “The Gnashing” by Deafheaven begins to play over the P.A.  The guitar seems to shimmer over the crowd as muffled as white lights flash like sparks around the floor.  A name appears on the tron: Jonathan Bacchus. 


The crowd reacts as out from behind the curtain walks Jonathan Bacchus, dressed in all black with a peacoat over a turtleneck and combat pants bloused into his Louboutin sneakers.  He wears a white Thalia mask over his face, his hair hanging down over the top. 


He marches down deliberately, his eyes on the ring.  On the ramp, he removes the Thalia mask and flicks it casually over his shoulder into the crowd. 


At the base of the ring, Bacchus turns to the stairs and climbs them to the turnbuckle.  He ducks between the ropes and enters the ring, walking past the COO.  Thad offers Bacchus a handshake, and he accepts it, though emotionlessly.  Jonathan pulls out the chair facing the rampway, then proceeds to remove his gloves and peacoat before he sits down and awaits his would-be opponent.


JC:  February Star of the Month, Johnny Bacchus!

BG:  You gotta wonder, Jacuinde, if Bacchus is even aware of just how good he is!





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.


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.


Sebastian Everett-Bryce steps into the spotlight, a smirk on his face, a dark red leather jacket over the top of a SEB t-shirt. He’s also wearing jeans and high tops, and a look of determination upon his face. The lights lift, and he makes his way to the ring, stretching his neck from side to side as he walks, his eyes focused on Thad and Jonathan. He climbs up the steps and steps through the ropes before standing in the middle of the ring.


He extends his arms to the crowd who cheer his name.


He flashes his arms out to a side, a satisfied grin upon his face, he turns and faces Thad and Bacchus - the former offering the same hand he’d offered to Jonathan, Seb accepts it and offers his friend a wink, before pulling out the seat at the table and lowering himself into the seat.


JC:  Two time former Universal Champion, Sebastian Everett-Bryce!

BG:  This match has been teased for nine months, Jack!  Thaddeus might’ve had another kid by now in the time its taken to get this match signed, sealed and delivered!


With the music lowered, and all the participants gathered, Thad looks between the two.


JC:  You could cut the tension here at PPG Paints Arena with a knife!

BG:  I never understood that sayin’.


Gentlemen.  We’re here to discuss the terms of Ides of March.

Jonathan Bacchus: Correct.  I’m sure that both of us have apprehensions best addressed beforehand, as I believe neither of us can abide by even the shadow of a doubt as to the outcome.

Sebastian Everett-Bryce: One of the few things we can agree on - given how long we’ve been waiting for this, I don’t imagine that either would be happy with any kind of smoke and mirrors.

Jonathan Bacchus: Agreed.  I cannot abide by the potential interference of a Charlie Nickles, Sarah Wolf, or any others.  I require assurances.


Thad smirks.


Sebastian Everett-Bryce: Understandable - I too wish to ensure that I won’t be surprised with the rest of your… pack.

Jonathan Bacchus: You won’t.

Sebastian Everett-Bryce: A gentleman’s agreement doesn’t seem to be quite enough, now does it?

Jonathan Bacchus: It does not.  Thaddeus?


Thad looks over at him.


Jonathan Bacchus: I’d like to request any potential interference be met with “appropriate” repercussions.

Sebastian Everett-Bryce: Whilst I agree with the sentiment - it feels somewhat convenient that VLI aren’t under contract with XWF - therefore limiting the potential repercussions in their case.

I think… you both make fair points.


A pause between the three.  Thad smirks once again.


Jonathan Bacchus: If we require uninterrupted combat, we require a structure to deter it.

A cage…

Sebastian Everett-Bryce: And give the option of escape to end this? No, I don’t think so…

Jonathan Bacchus: I concur.  This goes both ways.


Thad smirks yet again.


We can put a roof on it.

Jonathan Bacchus: You’ve both seen how I fight — I require the apron and ropes.  No, a standard cage is unacceptable unless Sebastian would be content with a potential asterisk.

Sebastian Everett-Bryce: Some of us are able to adapt to our surroundings - but I wouldn’t want to give you an excuse.

Jonathan Bacchus: Well perhaps if you’d adapted more adequately, you’d still have the XWF Universal Championship around your waist.

Sebastian Everett-Bryce: And perhaps if “how you fight” was more effective, you’d have managed to win a Universal Championship yourself.

Jonathan Bacchus: You’re still under the impression this was to claim the Universal Championship.  Allow me to be clear: this was never about my own ambitions and accomplishments, it was about putting yours to the sword.

Sebastian Everett-Bryce: And now, its about putting you to the sword. One… More… Time.


A wry smile crosses Jonathan’s lips.  He leans back in his seat almost nonchalantly — perhaps even amused.  After a moment, he raises his microphone again.


Jonathan Bacchus: You still don’t understand.  There’s part of me that can’t determine if you’re too thick to do so or just willfully obtuse at this point.  By all means, Sebastian, I’m curious and I’d like to hear it from you now, face-to-face: where’s this energy for anyone else?  Where was it for Ned Kaye?  For Misty Waters or Isaiah King?  Hell, where was it for Prince Adeyemi back in the day?  Remember how he got Dolly a partial lobotomy in the ring and let ol’ Meemaw into her head?  You ever champion anyone other than yourself as you claimed to be the “champion of this company”?  Where’s that energy, Sebastian — how do you justify this?

Sebastian Everett-Bryce: The energy I have for you, Jonathan, is singular in definition. Everyone else you’ve named - they’ve been about business. About cementing the reality that I am the very best there is. None of them followed me to another company. Not a single one of them tried to make it about anything other than trying to prove they were better than me. You? You’ve gone out of your way to make this personal. Few people have had the misfortune to gain my attention for reasons beyond professional pride. Those that have… Well… They recognise the error of their ways when it’s too late. I’m willing to bet, you’ll have the same realisation after the Ides of March.

Jonathan Bacchus: Oh “you”, “you”, “you.”  Poor little Sebastian Everett-Bryce wanted to tell a story where he was the singular main character and didn’t expect an antagonist!


His voice raises, notable disgust dripping from his words. Sebastian offers a sneering half-smile in return.


Jonathan Bacchus: You should be thanking me for playing along with your little Epic.  You asked for a Moriarty, then you got it.  And now your head’s too full of hot gas to fit a deerstalker hat?!  People can do whatever they want to others and that’s not your concern?  “Hey, live and let live so long as it’s not my backyard”?!  That’s what you thought the privilege of your position entitled?!


He grows quiet, leaning forward and now openly glaring.  He jams a finger in Sebastian’s direction.


Jonathan Bacchus: This is exactly why you deserve it, Sebastian.  This is exactly the attitude that brought us to this moment, and it’s exactly the fantasy that you need to get reality checked about.  When you hold that championship and declare yourself the man who represents these people in these arenas?  You don’t get to let it all be “just business”.  You are expected to set an example.  And in that, you are a failure.  That is why upon entering this company I set my sights on you, and I will continue to treat anyone who carries themselves like you with the same prescription long after this ends.

Sebastian Everett-Bryce: It must be really easy to sit on that pedestal that you’ve built for yourself, Jonathan. You must feel really secure pointing the finger at those you think are beneath you when you don’t have the wherewithal, nor the desire to stand for what you believe in, instead of pointing fingers at everyone else and expecting them to live up to some standard you think should exist. Judgement comes easy to those who don’t have to walk the path they preach for others. Because here’s the truth about you - your clever words disguise a real truth.


Sebastian leans forward, his eyes burning into Bacchus’.


Sebastian Everett-Bryce: The reality is, you can tell the world what you think the responsibility is for those who reach the pinnacle of this business because you don’t have to live by those standards yourself. But deep down, it burns at you that you don’t get the chance to prove that you would be the champion of virtue that you think the rest should be. Maybe you should spend less time worrying about what kind of representative I should be and focus on the representative you could be.


A smirk slowly crosses Seb’s face.


Sebastian Everett-Bryce: As it is? You’re left languishing on the outside screaming that other people should be making the difference, all the while knowing that you’re powerless to make that change yourself. Because it’s not about personal glory, right? The very line that’s been spewed by every competitor who’s fallen short of what’s needed to achieve personal glory. You want to talk about failure, Jonathan? When this ends, and the world is no different, and you’re still no closer to being able to show rather than tell, the last nine months of your life will be a failure. And that’s not just a little bit sad.


Bacchus bolts upright, slamming one hand down.


Jonathan Bacchus: Don’t you condescend me about failure, King Lear!  You sat on the throne while I was and still am on The Wall!  There is no pedestal here — there is the depths you can plunge towards, and there’s the minarets I look upon.  Those same minarets that you chose to occupy.  I do not put myself on a pedestal — you put yourself on a pedestal.  You call yourself “The Best in the Business”.  Don’t talk to me about practicing what I preach, when I have sacrificed every comfort in my life to practice what I preach.  Multiple times.  You wanted to be king to be told “glory, hallelujah” — I am holding the line.  You don’t have the guts to do what I do.  You would not last a day in the Night Watch.  You would let the Night King pass if he picked up your laundry from the dry cleaners for you! 

Sebastian Everett-Bryce: I know this concept often eludes you, Jonathan, but if you have a point… Why don’t you make it?


A silence falls between them.  Jonathan’s eyes dart between SEB and a continuously smirking Thad.


Jonathan Bacchus: You wanna see how deep the bullet lies?  Lemme spell it out in a single name… Tyler.  Norrie.


A hush falls over the crowd.  The smirk on Thad’s face subsides as he and SEB exchange a glance.


JC:  Tyler Norrie, better known to the XWF Universe as CYPH3R!


Jonathan Bacchus: I’m actually glad we brought The Boss out because this applies just as much to him as it does to you.  Probably moreso, but that’s been previously litigated and can be relitigated in the future.  But let me make something clear…


A pause.  Bacchus is clearly seething, a palpable cold hatred in his voice as he speaks.


Jonathan Bacchus: Tyler Norrie has hurt people.  Tyler Norrie hasn’t just hurt me, he’s hurt people I care about.  In a just world, he would still be rotting away in a windowless prison closet beneath Alcatraz for his crimes, maybe eventually getting finished off by a particularly large rat.  He walks a free man now, and since obtaining that freedom, he has shown zero contrition.  There’s no repentance, no remorse — quite the contrary, in fact, he couldn’t be less sorry.  And none of that matters to either of you two because you let a 12-year-old hit him with a Frog Splash, and you required technical expertise for a little caper.  See, I remember when you were somewhat of a sneering little rich boy prick, Sebastian, and I remember you expressing a desire and attempting to change.  I wanted to believe you, Sebastian.  I wanted to believe in you.  There may be others who will forgive your shortcomings, but I am not one of them — not when they concern the whitewashing and absolution of a dangerous, unrepentant man.  That is my point. 

And that is your failure that you will realize either by my hand or his.  Then again, between that and your unwillingness to listen, I suppose I should consider your historical aversion to hands and tongues, huh?


Seb’s eyes narrowed, and for a second he looked physically shaken. He composed himself, but not before Jonathan noticed the look.


Sebastian Everett-Bryce: Let me make one thing… Perfectly clear… Jonathan. I am still a sneering little rich boy prick.


Seb paused to allow a small cheer from the crowd.


Sebastian Everett-Bryce: Your mistake is thinking that’s all that I am. I had hoped you’d be smarter than those who’ve come before, but apparently you’re just the same, just as disappointing, just as ordinary as everyone else. You think I’ll mourn because you won’t forgive me for whatever shortcomings you deem to exist? Please… I’ll pack them away with the tears of everyone else who thought they knew when they looked at me. One thing I’m not is a friend of Tyler Norrie. He doesn’t have friends. But soon enough, he and I will have one thing in common for sure.


Seb lowered his voice, and leaned across the table.


Sebastian Everett-Bryce: I’m going to hurt you too. And that will hurt everyone you care about.

Jonathan Bacchus: Oh god, just listen to yourself — sound like your fuckin’ dad.


BG:  Oh shit!  It just got real!

JC:  SEB has heard enough!


SEB stands up, flipping the table, and charges.  Johnny charges in kind, and the two are quickly engaged in exchanging blows, Thad looking positively gleeful. The two rain blows upon one another until Bacchus switches up and double legs Seb taking him down to his back.

Bacchus begins to slam forearms into Seb’s face - a shocking reminder of the seventy elbows the former Universal Champion took two weeks earlier in his match vs James Shark. These blows, however, never broke single digits as Seb gets his arms up to block before shifting his weight and turning Bacchus over, before catching him with a flurry of right hands of his own. Bacchus manages to slip from beneath and the two men stumble to their feet. As they both turn and move to return to the brawl, the ring is flooded with security sent from backstage.

Thad suddenly looks less gleeful.


Crowd: Let them fight! Let them fight! Let them fight!


The security keep the two men apart for a moment or two before they break free and collide in the middle of the ring again. The next moment, they’re on the ground rolling around each trying and failing to get the upper hand as they roll to the outside of the ring. Security return to split them once more, and it looks as though the brawling is over, before each break free and sprint around the outside of the ring.


Crowd: Let them fight! Let them fight! Let them fight!


They collide - as Thad merely walks around the ring trying to get the best view.

It seems to be the final time that they’re pulled apart. However, as anyone who’s ever seen one of these brawls before knows, an army of security is no match for two men who wish to throw tired and sloppy punches at one another. This brawl is no different, as once more they manage to break free of their capturs and slide back into the ring.


Crowd: Let them fight! Let them fight! Let them fight!


This would be their final act, however, as security finally manage to subdue each man and pin them in opposite corners as they shout and yell their threats at one another.


JC:  Warfare General Manager Peter Principle out here at ringside now, barking orders to security!

BG:  Which seems to have annoyed Thad a bit!  And these fans here in Pittsburgh!


Finally, a seemingly satisfied Thad raises a microphone to his mouth.


Personally, I’d be more than happy to give these people what they’ve asked for, but it would appear that Peter has decided that he wants to reserve these hostilities for the Ides of March. And I have no intention of disagreeing with that decision.

A disappointed murmur hums through the crowd.


What kind of business man puts this match on free television when there’s a pay per view in three weeks and you’ll just buy it?  Who do you think I am, Tony Khan?


Thad scoffs.


BG:  That’s a good point!

JC:  Business is business!


See, you might’ve seen me smiling as things went south and that’s because I had a feeling that this is how tonight would go. And I suspected that neither one of you would be satisfied with a fight inside a ring after all the back and forth you’ve had this past year. So I have a surprise for both of you - and for this fine crowd here tonight. Because I have the perfect place for the two of you to settle this once and for all…


Thad’s mouth curls into a dangerous smile, before slowly looking up. And in doing so, lights illuminated the structure that hung ominously above the ring.





JC:  The Lion’s Den!

BG:  Oh…. myyyyyy!


The crowd pops, and for the first time since they’d started brawling, both Seb and Johnny take their eyes off one another as they look up at their future hanging from the ceiling of the arena.


JC:  That’s sixteen tons of brutality!

BG:  Just over two miles of unforgiving steel chain!

JC:  Thad knew it!

BG:  He did!

JC:  He knew this thing was gonna deteriorate!  He knew damn well they’d never agree on particulars and the Lion’s Den squashes all of it!

BG:  No one in or out!  No countouts!  No disqualifications!

JC:  The only way to win is by pin or submission and Brody, with timed weapons chambers, there’s really no telling what’ll be left of these guys when it’s all said and done!

BG:  If you’re new, or stupid… and you wanna know just how brutal this match is, then I’d advise you to look at the last time this structure was used!

JC:  It was nine months ago!  The very night that Johnny Bacchus put the proverbial sword in the belly of the then-Universal Champion Sebastian Everett-Bryce at the Revelry!

BG:  On that night, it was Thaddeus Duke whipping CYPH3R from post to post inside his own specialty!

JC:  He calls it his playground, but that’s another story!  CYPH3R, you might remember, was out of action for six months after entering the Lion’s Den and folks, there will be no excuses.  One man will win, one man will lose as Sebastian Everett-Bryce and Johnny Bacchus go to war at Ides of March inside the Lion’s Den!

---

JC:  We’re about to get started here with Warfare action!

BG:  Bacchus and SEB are some wordy mother fuckers so unfortunately, Larry Tact had to make his entrance during the break!





The show is quickly interrupted by the sound of a distant synthesizer, followed up by horses neighing and galloping through the dirt. It fades out, leading into the riff of a guitar strumming a fiery tune. There's an inherent electricity building within the air of the arena, culminating as the drums kick in. As they do, the steadfast figure of Scoops McGee comes out from the back, a look of no nonsense etched onto his face as he takes a long look at the crowd and the squared circle.

He nods, steadily walking to the ring and absentmindedly high-fiving any fans stretching out their hands who happen to be right in his way. He makes his way over to ringside, climbing up the steps methodically and stepping onto the ring apron. He saunters about halfway across the apron, taking one last long look at the crowd as they give their reception to the seasoned vet. Scoops stretches his arms out wide, accepting everything they've got to give before stepping into the ring.

Scoops skulks over to his corner, pacing there and doing some small stretches to keep himself warmed up before the match begins.

In-Ring Style: Scoops is a callback to bygone age, a rough-and-tough brawler who doesn't give a damn at all in the ring as he puts his body on the line night in and night out against whoever he may be across from in the ring. He has a flair for the theatrics at times, wanting to make sure he's 'the big scoop' at all times to help the fans pop big-time. Any chance he has to also use a weapon at all in a no-DQ match, he'll take it. Scoops is arguably one of the most dangerous workers in the business the moment he has any weapon in his hands.

Terry “Scoops” McGee - vs - Larry Tact

DING! DING!

Larry lumbers out of his corner and approaches Scoops slowly, trying to circle him looking for an opening, but Scoops isn’t having it. With a thumb of his nose and a sudden burst of speed, Scoops grabs Tact by the wrist and short arms him into a clothesline. Keeping hold of Tact’s wrist; Scoops forces him up twisting the arm back before plucking Larry into the air before dropping him with an arm-trap suplex!

Scoops groans as he transitions to Tacts front and lifts him up with marching knee strikes before grabbing a handful of Tact’s hair while he’s on his knees looking up at McGee who tightens his fist before delivering a brutal strike!

Again!

AND AGAIN!


JC: Scoops is whoopin’ Tact here.

BG: His recent losses must’ve got to him now he’s taking it out on Larry!


A stream of blood pours down Tact’s forehead; Scoops pulls Tact in with a ripcord and-


JC: CATTLE PROD!


A devastating short-arm forearm open ups Tact even more! Tact’s face turning crimson as he stands groggily swaying as Scoops spits on the canvas before shouting to the crowd.


“Somebody get me a goddamn table!”


The crowd pop huge as Scoops thrust kicks Tact in the gut and sends him into the corner as fans swarm over the barricade and head under the ring helping bring out a table and throw it into the ring along with lighter fluid and a spool of barbed wire. McGee nods to the fans who gather around ringside as security basically gives up.

Scoops sets up the table; wraps it in barbed wire and pours lighter fluid over it to the roar of the bloodthirsty fans.

McGee heads to the corner where Tact is slumped and brings the table closer; McGee strikes Tact once more before heading up the turnbuckles and plucks Larry up over his shoulder.

Scoops grabs a lighter from his pocket, flicking it open and throwing it onto the table setting it alight!

AND SCOOPS JUMPS WITH TACT!


BG: SUPER BIG SCOOOOOOP!!!!


SCOOP SLAM PILEDRIVER FROM THE TOP ROPE AND THROUGH THE FLAMING BARBED WIRE TABLE!!!

Tact is unmoving as Scoops pats away the flames before going for the pin, the fans count along with the ref!


ONE!














TWO!!















THREE!!!

WINNER - TERRY “SCOOPS” McGEE

JC:  After a trying couple of week for ol’ Scoops that saw him lose his Xtreme title, get bounced from the Ides of March tournament, reclaim his Xtreme title and subsequently lose it again on Anarchy to Dominick Strife, Scoops McGee rights the ship tonight on Warfare with a big win over Larry Tact!

BG:  I don’t get it!

JC:  Don’t get what!?

BG:  This Scoops McGee popularity!

JC:  The people do love him.

BG:  The man is past sixty years old, he’s been doing this for decades.  He certainly can’t move like he did even ten years ago, but the fans…

JC:  It’s called respect, Brody!  The man has done and seen it all.  These fans respect his dedication to the sport.  Nevertheless, Brody, Scoops picks up a big victory tonight and Larry Tact will have to go back to the drawing board.

---

The referees all gather in their locker room. Each one dressed in their usual attire, they discuss what is to come, the assignments they've gotten, and whatever else they feel like yammering on about. The door to the locker room door opens slowly, with the widening gap revealing Sarah Wolf as the reason why. None of the refs look up at the moment. All too distracted by each other, their phones, and the like.

Sarah grips the door and thrusts it behind her. Slamming it as hard as she can. Each and every pair of eyes are now looking up at her, while she refuses to make contact with any of them.


SW: Last week I watched a travesty of justice unfold live and in person. Sitting in that crowd surrounded by the unwashed masses was bad enough, having to watch one of you stop a fight that was more entertaining than the rest of the card combined, was infuriating. I understand. You wanted to save one of them or both of them.


(One of the refs begins to speak, but Sarah holds up a single finger.)


SW: I disagree. What should have happened was that they were allowed to end each other as they intended. Tonight, I'm going to attempt to the same to King. I am sure he intends to do the same to me. If for some reason, one of you jackanapes gets it into your empty heads to call the fight off because 'we're weally huwt.' I will show you what hurt really is. If we die, we die. Morons.


(Sarah opens the door which is now hanging off a single hinge. She steps into the hallway, and pulls the door shut. The refs look about, and then go back to what they were doing)


JC:  Sarah Wolf!  Trying to avoid a similar fate as Aurora and Yelena Gorgo two weeks ago!  Stay with us on Warfare!

---

JC:  We’re back here on Warfare and folks coming up next is force versus force!

BG:  Power versus power!

JC:  The lady hoss that is Latoya Hixx is set to go one on one with the Monster Machine, Enigma!





When The Strom is Coming hits Latoya Hixx. they heard a voice laugh in the background and saw blue lights from the entrance and some smoke and rainfall coming down she walked onto the middle stage flexed her muscles walked straight down towards the aisle slapped a few XWF fans got inside the ring and dim the lights in the ring and she flexes her arms once more and spread her arms and climbs on the top rope and yell at her fans and tells them to let's go and climbs down off the ropes and waits for her Opponent to arrive.


JC:  I hope we don’t get sued!

BG:  Well, they probably had it comin’.

JC:  She done slapped the Primanti Brothers out their mouths!





"Luna est dominae, volkodlak malorum
Artes et perditae, lycan incarnatus

Luna est dominae, volkodlak malorum
Artes et perditae, lycan incarnatus"

A dense fog rolls out along the entrance ramp, the haunting whispered chant growing in volume along with the pulsing tempo of the music. A hulking horned beast appears from the gloom, slowly and methodically stalking towards the ring. His leather doomsday cloak is open over his massive chest, each step bringing him further into the light until "The Monster Machine" is revealed in full. The dark and Gothic chanting of “Night of the Wolf” by Nox Arcana continues, music swelling in volume as each pulse in the tempo and each measured step of the monster are in sync.

"Rota, vita, mara, vena
Mare, dracul, morte, vita

Rota, vita, mara, vena
Mare, dracul, morte, vita"

ENIGMA ascends the ring steps and subtly wipes his feet on the apron, turning towards the crowd as he removes the horned skull mask, revealing his soot-streaked face and colourless eyes. Throwing his head back, he sprays a bloody mist into the air before letting out a snarl. When his head lowers, blood drips from his chin and down his heaving chest.


JC:  Enigma, in fact, did not slap any fans so we’re good there!

BG:  The Monster Machine!  Famous, the world over!

JC:  He has yet to get on track here in the XWF and tonight, he’ll face a chiseled challenge in the form of Latoya Hixx!

Enigma - vs - Latoya Hixx

After the bell, the two combatants stare each other down with eyes locked upon one another.  The would-be predators circle, then come together near the center of the ring where Hixx reaches her arm up.  Enigma seems taken aback initially but the crowd pops nevertheless.


JC:  Would you look at that!?

BG:  Gee, I really don’t know about this decision.

JC:  Latoya Hixx wants a test of strength!  And Enigma is gonna give it to her!


Enigma reaches up and clasps his hands with her.  It looks good for Hixx for just a moment but Enigma is just too powerful and bends Hixx to his will very quickly.  He gets her down to her knees but as she starts digging as deep as she can, Enigma sends a boot to her chest sending Hixx crashing to the mat and the fans booing in Enigma’s direction.


JC:  A little unsportsmanlike if I do say so myself!

BG:  Maybe but Hixx should’ve known better!  Yeah, she’s an amazon, but she’s got nowhere near the power of the Monster Machine!


Enigma plays to the crowd for a few moments before returning his attention to the reeling Latoya Hixx.  As she retreats though, Enigma sends a barrage of vicious looking stomps into the woman, keeping her down and on the defensive.  Hixx retreats into the corner eventually and the official steps in to back Enigma away.  With Hixx leaning her head against the bottom rope and Enigma remembering let down after let down these last months, he forcefully yet carefully moves the XWF referee aside and delivers a couple of boots to Latoya’s face before driving his boot into her throat, choking the life out of her as the referee begins his DQ five count.


JC:  Enigma!  Not wanting to let up here!

BG:  And why should he?  Because these marks like Hixx?

JC:  No, just compassion!

BG:  Nah, you check compassion at the door, Jacuinde!  Compassion will get you beat in today’s XWF!

JC:  Nevertheless, to the chagrin of these fans, Enigma just used up every bit of that five count!


After the break, Enigma heeds the officials warning and receives a stern talking to.  Just as he tries to go back to work, Hixx, from her hands and knees, lunges for Enigma, driving her shoulder into his midsection.  The blow staggers him back a step.  Then a second and another stagger back.  Then a third and yet another stagger backward.  The fourth and final lunge proves ‘fatal’ as Enigma steels his stance and Latoya Hixx may have just driven her shoulder into a brick wall.

Grabbing her by an arm and her long bleach blonde hair, Enigma pulls Hixx vertical, then rips her into a short arm clothesline that sends her to the mat.


JC:  Quick cover by Enigma, twooooooo and no!

BG:  Hixx kicks out here!

JC:  Receives a nice little pop here in the process!


Hixx doesn’t want to stay down.  Staying down against Enigma is a losing effort.  She wills herself to her hands and knee, then to just one knee when Enigma clubs her over the back.  She reels away and falls to one knee again where Enigma clubs her a second time.  Then repeated sequence a third time and after the third, Hixx pops to her feet but with her back to Enigma to a nice pop from Pittsburgh.  She turns around and receives a forearm shiver across her face before Enigma reaches down and sends a European uppercut to the Amazonian Latoya Hixx.  This blow sends her falling to the mat.


JC:  Another cover by Enigma!  Twoooooo…

BG:  Hixx kicks out again!

JC:  And this match rolls on!


Back to his feet quickly, he brings Hixx back to hers.  Backing her against the ropes, he sends her to the far side.  On the rebound, Enigma goes for a big boot, but his attempt is telegraphed by Hixx as she ducks under his outstretched leg.  Hixx flies to the ropes and bounces again.  On this rebound, she delivers a lariat that rocks Enigma.

She stares at the giant redwood and backs up against the ropes and bounces off.  Again Enigma goes for a big boot and again the attempt is foiled as Hixx ducks under and once again flies to the far side.  Bouncing off again, she again attempts a lariat that once more, only manages to shake the redwood back a step.

Again, Hixx peels off toward the ropes.  Unlike the last number of times, Enigma changes course.  He charges forward and once Hixx bounces off the ropes again, she’s vulnerable, giving Enigma the opportunity to take her down with a vicious spear.


JC:  Jesus!

BG:  Enigma might’ve just broken her in half!

JC:  That was as devastating a spear as I have ever personally seen.


Figuratively split in two, Hixx lies on the mat clutching her midsection.  Grabbing her by her hair, he pulls her near lifeless body to her feet than grabs both hands around her throat, then lifts…


Smack!


Smack!


A third defensive smack!


Enigma drops Hixx back to the mat, trying to shake off the constant ringing in his ears after her defensive blows.  Enigma rushes forward but Hixx delivers an almost defensive but impressive feat of strength as she sends Enigma up and over with an overhead belly to belly suplex.


BG:  Hixx not wasting time!

JC:  Cover!  Twooooo…

BG:  Enigma kicks out!

JC:  Hixx damn near stole one there but it’s not to be.  At least not yet!


Hixx pops back to her feet feeling the rush of adrenaline.  She aids Enigma to his knees before peeling off to the ropes.  On the rebound, Enigma has a burst of his own adrenaline as he quickly gets to his feet and raises a leg.


JC:  Equalizer!

BG:  That turned her inside out!

JC:  It surely did and if she had anymore hopes in winning this thing, thy might have just been dashed right there!

BG:  He doesn’t call that boot the Equalizer for nothin’!


Latoya Hixx staggers back to her feet but it’s evident that she’s kind of on dream street.  Enigma lifts her up, then powers her up over his head.


JC:  Damnation!

BG:  That should do it!

JC:  Shoulders down, hook of the leg from Enigma…. Twoooooooooo and three!

WINNER - ENIGMA

JC:  Enigma gets back on track here on Warfare!

BG:  Hixx showed some… some…

JC:  Please… do go on, Brody!

BG:  Excuse the expression, but she showed balls tonight!

JC:  She fought like hell but in the end, Enigma was just too much for her and he’ll notch a much needed victory tonight!

---

---

JC:  We’re back here on Warfare and est to get back to the action as the Ides of March tournament resumes here tonight in the Steel City!

BG:  The winners tonight and tomorrow night are guaranteed to make it to the Ides of March pay per view in three weeks!

JC:  Sixteen have entered, but only four will have a shot to unseat Kieran King later this month in England!





As the music plays, Tropical Punch marches out to the ring.


RA:  "Making his way to the ring, Tropical Punch!"


Painted in silver, Tropical Punch reflects the laser lights shooting off of himself. A glitter-boy in the highest esteem, he stands at the ring corner as the lights come on and he simply sparkles. He steps in the ring, flexing his deltoids, then cracking his bones to ready for wrestling. The referee eyes him in case he's cheating although definitely not hiding anything in just trunks and boots.


BG: And here comes the man of the hour himself, THE Tropical Punch!

JC: Tropical Punch came away with perhaps the biggest upset of the Ides of March yet, when he defeated former tag champion Lucy Wylde in the first round.

BG: And tonight, he's looking for another big upset as he takes on Matthias Syn!





The opening riff of The Hangman's Body Count by Volbeat starts to play throughout the arena as the lights dim. Several red and purple laser lights envelope the stage as Matthias Syn casually walks through the curtain. As he steps onto the stage, he stops and acknowledges the crowd by stretching both arms forward while touching his balled up fists together. 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.


BG: And here comes the Syn City Saint!

JC: I still can't believe people call him that.

BG: When you've got a body like that and mic skills like THAT, you can get people to call you whatever you want! Matthias Syn might be one of the most charismatic men in all of professional wrestling. He's my sleeper pick to go deep in this tournament, but he's going to have to get through Tropical Punch first!

JC: Easier said than done!

Ides of March Tournament - Quarter Final Tropical Punch - vs - Matthias Syn

DING DING DING!

The bell rings and the match immediately gets underway as Matthias springs forward, charging at Tropical Punch with no fear in his eyes whatsoever. Unperturbed by the larger man's size, Matthias leaps into the air knee-first, trying to connect with a high knee to the big man's face! But Tropical Punch brings up his hands just in time, stopping the devastating blow from connecting to his head. Instead, the force of the defended blow simply pushed Tropical Punch back into a corner turnbuckle. Matthias Syn tried to press his advantage, grappling with Punch in the corner, trying to perform some sort of slick maneuver- but the big man had other plans. Tropical Punch pushes Syn back, before charging at him and drilling him with a lariat.

Syn gets right back up to his feet, just in time to duck under another big blow from Tropical. The Punchman turns around to try his luck again, but his more agile opponent is able to strike faster. Syn punches Tropical right in the gut not once, but twice- although Tropical Punch appears able to just eat the strikes! The big man pays no mind to Syn's quick combo, instead, Tropical grabs Syn by the collarbone before hoisting him into the air for a big suplex! The crowd 'ooohs' and 'aaahs' as Tropical Punch waltzes around the ring with Syn up high.


JC: Look at the big man go! Tropical Punch is putting on a parade inside that ring, and I mean that literally!

BG: He needs to get serious in there if he wants to walk away with another upset victory! He's playing the kind of crowd games that he didn't play last Warfare, and if he's not careful, that could cost him!

JC: Cost him what? He's dominating this match so far! I knew I should've bet on him when everyone else did!


Just before Tropical Punch is about to finish his parade and deliver the suplex, Syn somehow manages to wriggle free! Landing behind the big man, Syn grabs onto his shoulders before delivering a Double knee backbreaker! Both men fall to the ground, but Syn quickly rises. Tropical Punch rolls around on the mat in pain, clutching his lower back- Matthias Syn, meanwhile, is quickly ascending to the top rope!


BG: So much for Tropical's dominance! Matthias Syn is heading to the top! And I mean that literally!


As Syn reaches the top rope, he gestures out towards the audience theatrically. Then, as Tropical Punch continues writhing on the mat, Matthias leaps into the air before performing an Somersault corkscrew Senton Bomb! The force of the high-flying maneuver shakes the entire ring, and Matthias hooks the leg for a pinfall!


1!














2!!









KICKOUT!!!!!!!!


BG: I thought he had him there! Tropical Punch barely kicked out in time!

JC: It's going to take a lot more than that to put down a man of Punch's size, I assure you!


Matthias slams the mat in frustration, but he doesn't lose sight of his objective. Syn starts delivering vicious curb stomps to Tropical's head, one of which busts the big man open! Syn cackles in joy before mocking Tropical Punch as blood starts pouring out of the big man like a faucet.


BG: Bleed, big boy, bleed! Look at that red river flow!

JC: This is sick! The referee should do something about those curb stomps!

BG: They're perfectly legal in the Ides of March tournament!


As Tropical Punch reaches for the ropes, the referee forces Syn to take a step back and allow the big man to recover. Matthias Syn is continually jawing at the referee, at Punch, and at anyone who will listen throughout the process. As Tropical Punch rises to his feet, he touches the crimson mask covering his face before looking back towards Matthias Syn, who is cackling like a hyena on the other side of the ring.

Tropical Punch comes charging out of the reset like a bull in a china shop, swinging for the fences with a big lariat: but Syn ducks under it. Then, Syn knocks Tropical off balance with a dropkick, sending Tropical Punch tumbling into the corner!

As Syn rises, he sees his battered opponent standing dazed in the corner. Seeking to make the most of the moment, Matthias Syn charges headfirst towards the turnbuckle, clearly looking to land a decisive blow: but Tropical Punch puts his foot up just in time! Syn runs forward into a face full of leather, dropping him straight back to the mat like a sack of potatoes! Wasting no time in following up his counter-attack, Tropical Punch starts delivering vicious stomps of his own upon Syn's back and torso. Matthias Syn wriggles around on the mat, writhing in pain as each boot stomp lands more forcefully than the last. Eventually, Matthias is able to roll out of the ring.


JC: What a change of momentum! Matthias Syn had completely taken control of this match, but Tropical Punch refused to relent, and now he's in charge! This is the definition of back-and-forth action!

BG: It looks like Matthias Syn plans on going back-and-forth with the ring itself! He doesn't want to be in there with the big man right now, and frankly, I don't blame him!


Tropical Punch, his crimson mask somewhat fading, complains to the referee as Matthias Syn just wanders around the ringside area, clearly trying to buy some time and recover. Unfortunately for Tropical Punch, the amount of conversation he has with the referee about Syn's tactics end up buying Syn even more time! By the time the referee even gets to starting his count, Matthias Syn is already rolling back into the ring: and Tropical Punch is none the wiser!

Matthias Syn, the sneaky devil that he is, grabs Tropical Punch by the trousers and rolls him up for the quick pinfall attempt! The referee doesn't delay any time in counting this one!


1!















2!!!













KICKOUT!!!!


JC: He kicked out JUST in time!

BG: But did he?! Did he?! I'm not sure that his shoulder got up! That was razor-close!

JC: The referee's ruling is final, Brody! This match continues!


Tropical Punch manages to get his shoulders up just in time, and the crowd lets out a collective sigh of relief as the bigger man narrowly avoids defeat. Matthias Syn immediately sits up, running his hands through his hair in frustration, his eyes wide with disbelief. He was certain the crafty pin would have done the trick, but Tropical Punch is proving to be tougher than Syn anticipated. Syn slaps the mat in irritation, muttering to himself, but he knows he can’t afford to lose focus. He pops up to his feet and measures the big man, waiting for him to rise, ready to strike again.

As Tropical Punch pushes himself up to one knee, Matthias Syn charges forward, aiming for a shining wizard. He leaps into the air, looking to land the devastating knee strike to Tropical Punch's already bloodied head, but just as Syn comes in for the kill, Tropical Punch explodes off the mat! He catches Syn mid-air and hoists him up with alarming power, turning Syn’s momentum against him and slamming him down with a spine-crushing Samoan drop!


JC: Talk about bringing someone back down to earth! I think Tropical might've just slammed the ego out of the Syn City Saint!


The ring shudders from the impact, and the audience gasps as Tropical Punch quickly rises to his feet, a renewed fire in his eyes. Blood drips from his forehead, but it’s clear that the punishment he’s taken so far has only fueled his resolve. Matthias rolls onto his stomach, clutching his lower back in agony as Tropical Punch stalks him around the ring.


BG: Wow, Tropical Punch has taken complete control of this one! After a rocky start to the match, he has completely asserted his dominance in that ring tonight!

JC: His mixture of size, speed, and freakish brawn make him a tough matchup for anyone in this tournament, and Matthias Syn is learning that first-hand!


Tropical Punch grabs Syn by the hair, yanking him to his feet with a primal snarl. He holds Syn upright for a moment, as if savoring the moment before planting a brutal headbutt into the smaller man's skull. Syn stumbles back into the corner, dazed and groggy, before Tropical Punch charges forward, throwing his full weight into a monstrous body avalanche! Syn is crushed between Tropical Punch's bulk and the turnbuckle pads, the wind driven from his lungs as he slumps down to his knees.

Tropical Punch wastes no time, pulling Syn up again and whipping him across the ring into the opposite corner. Syn barely has time to react before Tropical Punch barrels towards him once more, driving his shoulder into Syn's midsection with a corner spear that sends shockwaves through the arena! Syn collapses to the mat, his body folding awkwardly as Tropical Punch steps back.


JC: Okay, this is starting to get ugly now! I think Tropical Punch oughta' just go for a pin here!

BG: It looks like Matthias Syn has Tropical Punch whipped up into a bloodied frenzy out there in that ring! I'm not even sure he's thinking straight, I think he's just seeing red: and the Synner is his only target! This could get even uglier yet!


Matthias rolls onto his side, gasping for air, his face etched with pain. Tropical Punch doesn't let up for a second. He grabs Syn by the arm, yanking him back up to a vertical base, before effortlessly hoisting him into the air and slamming him down with a brutal powerslam! The crowd pops with excitement as Tropical Punch flexes his arms, letting out a roar that reverberates throughout the arena.


JC: Tropical Punch is making it clear to the XWF fans tonight that he is not a one-hit wonder, he is absolutely proving that he's a force to be reckoned with inside that ring!

BG: But don't put the cart in front of the horse! He hasn't been Matthias Syn yet!

JC: It's going to take a miracle for Matthias to come back from this brutal beating Tropical Punch has unleashed!

BG: Well let's just say, they don't call him the Syn City Saint for nothing!


Tropical Punch pulls Syn up by his head, this time wrapping his arms around Syn's midsection and lifting him high into the air for a bear hug. Tropical Punch squeezes with all his might, causing Syn to groan in agony as the big man’s tree-trunk arms constrict around his torso like a vice. Syn flails his arms, trying desperately to break free, but Tropical Punch only tightens his grip, lifting Syn off the ground as if he weighs nothing. The referee moves in close, asking Syn if he wants to submit, but Matthias defiantly shakes his head, his face contorted in pain.


JC: Just give up, Matthias! He's going to break you in half if you keep fighting! He's just too big!

BG: He's just too big? HA! That's what she said!

JC: But now's not the time for that kind of innuendo, Brody! Someone is literally choking to death inside that ring, right now!

BG: Choking? HA! That's what she said!


Tropical Punch shakes Syn violently from side to side, draining the last bits of energy from him. Syn's movements grow weaker and weaker as Tropical Punch crushes the life out of him. Just when it seems like Syn might pass out in the hold, Tropical Punch decides to add insult to injury, lifting Syn even higher before throwing him backward with a massive belly-to-belly suplex that sends Syn crashing to the mat!

Matthias Syn rolls over, clutching his lower back in agony as Tropical Punch towers over him. Tropical Punch places a boot on Syn's chest as the referee drops down to count the fall.



1!














2!!!














KICKOUT!


JC: WHAT?!

BG: I can't believe it! This fight is still on!


Tropical Punch seemingly can't believe it either, looking between the referee and Matthias Syn with equal parts confusion and surprise. Eventually, Tropical Punch just shrugs before going to lift up Matthias Syn. Matthias Syn, however, reverses the grapple: by pulling Punch into a cradle! The referee drops down to count the surprise pin!


1!














2!!!














KICKOUT!


BG: Matthias almost had him there!

JC: That's twice now, twice that Matthias almost had Tropical Punch beaten by surprise! Punch had better hope he never wins the X-treme title, because dealing with sneaky pins does not seem to be his specialty!


With a sudden burst of energy propelling him to feet, Matthias Syn quickly kips up to a standing position. Tropical Punch, meanwhile, is equal parts dazed and surprised. He seemingly can't believe that Matthias Syn has come back to life, and if Tropical's labored breathing and excessive sweat is any indication, his gas tank might be on 'E'!

Just as Tropical Punch tries to stand, Matthias Syn comes charging back towards him, wild-eyed and full of fervor. Matthias jumps and wraps his arms around Punch, trying to grapple the big man. Before Tropical Punch can even respond, Matthias Syn executes a surprise SYNthesis (swinging reverse cutter) that comes out of nowhere! The entire crowd gasps in shock!


JC: Wait, did he just- A SYNthesis?!?! It looked like Matthias was all but dead!

BG: SYNthesis! SYNthesis! There's no way in hell the new kid is kicking out of that!


1!














2!















3!!!!

WINNER - MATTHIAS SYN Advances to Semi-Finals

Matthias Syn isn't even able to rise to his feet to accept the referee's embrace. Instead, the winner has to cling to the ropes as the referee assists him. By the time the ceremonial raising of the hand occurs, a medical examination team is already running down the ramp to check on Matthias Syn. Tropical Punch, meanwhile, lays completely still in the center of the ring: seemingly out cold.


JC: What did we just witness?! Tropical Punch had this match all but won!

BG: You just witnessed a Syn City Miracle, baby!

JC:  Syn takes the victory and he will advance to the Ides of March semi-finals!

---

JC:  The Ides of March are indeed upon us!

BG:  Things are ramping up quickly!

JC:  Earlier tonight, Sarah Wolf had it in mind to… what’s the word?

BG:  Approach?

JC:  Approach the XWF referees in reference to the draw we saw two weeks ago on Savage!

BG:  She doesn’t want a draw!  She wants a winner and that my friends, is the sign of a winner!

https://youtu.be/mnWTfBR8K5E?si=uiFkvWd6FKseohwn

The lights fade out suddenly. As her theme begins. the lights flicker on slowly and steadily, until they maintain a muted version of themselves, which Sarah stands in the middle of the entrance way. The lights follow Sarah as she slowly makes her way to the ring. On either side of her are no hands outreached, no fans trying to gain her attention. Just angry faces and concerned looks. Sarah steps into the ringside area, and moves to the ring area, rolling in, and rolling to her feet. She positions herself in the corner of her choosing, and waits.


JC: The Ides of March Tournament marches on! This second of two quarter final matches on Warfare will see “Dollface” Sarah Wolf, who is making her way to the ring, take on Last Year’s Tournament Winner King Kieran King!

BG: Of course, Dollface made it to the quarter finals by getting past my boy Larry Tact by the skin of her teeth. Kieran King trudged through the hell of an Xtreme Rules match with Scoops McGee…

JC: It wasn’t by the skin of her teeth, Brody! She practically crippled the Tactalizing One. It was a five star contest between two of the XWF’s best!

BG: Well, it doesn’t matter now. The first round is ancient history as far as tonight is concerned. Kieran was robbed of his glory as the Xtreme Champion, an honor he earned fair and square. He’s going to go for the jugular here tonight!

JC: But Sarah Wolf is a former Xtreme Champion in her own right, Brody. She’s just as dangerous as Kieran is, if not more. She entered this tournament to hurt people… and taking King’s bid at two-in-a-row away has got to be one of the most devastating blows she could possibly inflict!

BG: That’s easier said than done, Jacko.

JC: I know, but I wouldn’t tell that to her face. The lights don’t seem to be too bright, nor the moment too big. She looks poised. Focused. Ready.





The first frenetic strums of Faith No More’s “Gentle Art of Making Enemies” rip through the arena as golden and white strobes streak across the stage like divine ordination. Seconds pass—longer than necessary, just as he likes it—before Kieran King finally emerges. Chin high, smirk locked in place, he surveys the arena like a sovereign addressing his empire.

Then, without warning, he explodes forward, sprinting down the ramp like a war-hardened general storming the battlefield. He slides under the bottom rope with effortless grace, his movements so smooth they seem predestined. In an instant, he’s on the top turnbuckle, crouched like a ruler ready to decree judgment.


RA:  ”And his opponent, he is the reigning, the defending, LEGEND and  King of the XWF!!  Battling out Santa Monica, by the way of Gisborne, New Zeaaaalaaaaand!  Kieran KIIIIIIIINNNNGGGGG!”


He throws his arms back, feigning a grand, acrobatic backflip—only to stop short, laughing as the crowd takes the bait. They thought they knew his next move. They never do.


BG: And here he is, the reigning, defending, King of the XWF…

JC: Sprinting down to the ring like he always does, showing off that impressive speed and agility.

BG: Forget about that for one second, Jackie! You didn’t let me finish. I was going to say: rightful XWF Xtreme Champion, KING Kieran King!

JC: Uhm, I know Scoops pinned him after their match to get the belt back, but technically it was all within the rules. 24/7 and all…

BG: He was robbed! That ancient geezer was a sore loser AND he broke EVERY unwritten rule in the book, and now we all have to pay for his arrogance and stupidity by not having the Xtreme Title on the line right now!

JC: I mean, King vs. Wolf for the Xtreme strap would have been straight fire. But like, there’s a crown on the line here! Big picture! Besides, how can you break unwritten rules if they ain’t written?

BG: Stuff it, Jacko! Our Merciful King is pissed, and he’s going to rip the tongue right out of the wolf here, tonight!

JC: Not if the Wolf’s Blood gets him first!

Ides of March Tournament - Quarter Final Sarah Wolf - vs - Kieran King

The match begins with the two competitors circling the ring. They waste no time, meeting in the middle to exchange successive forearm strikes!

King ducks under Sarah’s last attempt and he spins her around. King hits a buzzsaw kick that sends Wolf stumbling back into the referee, pinning him into the corner. King charges and Sarah moves out of the way. King drills the referee with an inadvertent corner shotgun dropkick!


JC: Thirty seconds in and the ref is already down!

BG: I can’t wait until these bums are all replaced by AI.

JC: How would AI help in this particular situation Brodester?

BG: They’re doing it in baseball!

JC: …


King immediately hops back to his feet, face full of regret for what has just happened. He turns to find Sarah… only to have her spit the Wolf’s blood right into Kieran’s eyes!


JC: Wolf’s blood!

BG: You jinxed it!


The foamy wretched substance is all over King’s face as he claws to pull it away from his eyes. Wolf wipes what little bit is left off of her lips and grins. By the time King can open his eyes, Sarah drills him with a spinning heel kick! King hits the mat and pops back up only to take a second heel kick… and a third. Finally, King stumbles over into the corner and blocks himself in while Wolf stomps away at him.

She gets her boot on Kieran’s throat and chokes him mercilessly!


JC: An all out assault by Sarah Wolf!

BG: I can’t believe that she would stoop this low, Jackie!

JC: Uhh, I can. She literally warns everyone that this is exactly who she is and what she wants to do.

BG: That doesn’t make it fair!

JC: No. But you act as though the King wouldn’t take his own advantages when he gets them.

BG: It’s his right as King!


With no referee to stop her, she releases the choke when she pleases. King coughs as he dangles over the bottom rope. Dollface kicks the bottom rope upward, sending Kieran rolling back into the center of the ring, clutching his throat. He places his arm out to try to find Wolf by sense of touch, but she dives in with a Death Comes Ripping knee well on the button.


JC: I don’t think Kieran King can see, Brody!

BG: No shit! He’s got acid in his eyes!

JC: Well, some kind of foreign substance. We don’t technically know what it is.

BG: And It smells like decayed ass, too!


Wolf in complete control. Pulls King up to his feet only to place him in piledriver position. She goes to lift him up, but King is able to kick his legs and land back on his feet.

He tries to back body drop Dollface, but she shoves him away. She comes in for another kick, but out of instinct alone, King ducks and Wolf whiffs. He plants his feet and backflips for a pele kick, only to catch nothing but air as Sarah easily steps out of the way. After King crashes to the mat, she follows up with a diving forearm smash to the back of his dome.


JC: Sarah Wolf is being ruthless out here tonight. I don’t blame her. This may be the biggest match of her XWF career thus far.

BG: King did say that it’s part of the Sarah cycle that she lose here tonight. If anything, I can’t fault her for wanting to break that cycle.

JC: So you can be impartial after all…

BG: But-

JC: Ugh.


Sarah uses her position to lock King into a Cattle Mutilation submission! The crowd reacts as King screams out in pain while the referee is still down! With both his arms painfully wrenched behind him, Kieran has no other choice but to work his way towards the ropes, and he does manage to get his foot on the bottom rope.

But there is no break!


JC: Sarah Wolf can keep this submission hold locked in as long as she wants to, Brody!

BG: But she can’t win like this, either!

JC: Right now I think it’s more about the punishment she can inflict!


Finally, Wolf releases the hold and moves over to shake the referee back to some semblance of consciousness. To her credit, the referee does begin to stir. But from behind, King charges with a bullrush that connects between Sara’s shoulder blades and sends her tumbling through the ropes and out to the floor below.

King takes the moment to stretch his shoulders and wipe off his eyes again as Sarah pulls herself up by means of the ring apron. She looks up to see King diving down on her with a suicide plancha!

1!


JC: How very nice that the referee is finally awake enough to begin to count both of our competitors out.

BG: Dumb bastard should look at Kierans face! That’s not makeup he’s wearing! It’s Devils Bile!

JC: Wolf’s Blood…


2!


BG: Oh yeah. That would make sense. So then why does she call herself Dollface?

JC: Maybe perhaps you should ask her that since she’s right there!


3!

King grabs Sarah by the back of the head and slams her face first into the announce table. She’s stunned momentarily.


BG: Hey Sarah… why do they call you Dollface?

JC: I can’t believe you sometimes.


King, still shaking off the effects of the poison, goes to slam her a second time, but Wolf blocks it, counters, and slams his face down on the table instead!

4!


BG: Well I know what to say, but I’ll tell you this Jackie, did you see how King’s eyebrows shielded him from taking the full force of that hit?


King stumbles away from Wolf. Sarah smiles.

She moves to the nearby floor mats and starts to rip them up!

5!

She pulls King in for another piledriver attempt. King senses the danger beneath him and really tries to escape. He gets her up and over for the back body drop but Sarah flips forward and lands on her feet. She turns and clotheslines King, dropping him hard on the concrete floor below!

6!

Sarah pulls King back up to his feet and shoves him back into the ring.

7!

She follows in, giving the referee a stern look.


JC: Yeah, I don’t think anyone wants to see this contest end in a double count-out.

BG: This is the XWF. This is the Ides of March. They should just let them fight.

JC: We love our March Madness here!


King staggers back to his feet, holding the back of his head. He ends up in the nearby corner. Sarah Wolf charges at him, but he dives out of the way. She hits chest first on the turnbuckles and backs right into a schoolboy rollup!


One!














Two!












Thr- Sarah kicks out just before the refs hand slaps the mat!


JC: Oooh, so close!

BG: It would have been the upset of the century, Jacko!

JC: I wouldn’t go that far.


Both get back to their feet at the same time, and King is able to catch Wolf with a series of calf kicks that slow her down and have her on the defensive for the first time in this contest. Sarah backs into a corner, and like a man possessed, the kicks continue to keep coming until Wolf falls into a seated position. Seeing his moment, he charges against the ropes and comes flying in with a diving knee strike to the side of her head!

He drags her out of the corner for a cover!


One!














Two!










Sarah not only rolls her shoulder up, but she manages to catch King in a Kimura lock!


JC: Did… she just… kickout into a submission hold?!

BG: The Crown is in serious trouble!  THIS IS TREASON!


The referee is down in King’s face asking him if he wants to submit. He bites his lips and shakes his head. Meanwhile Dollface is wrenching on King’s arm and shoulder as if she’s trying to either break it or rip it out of the socket, or both!

King’s free hand goes up as if he’s ready to tap!

His hand is shaking!

He…

Grabs onto the bottom rope!

The referee starts counting for the break. Right before the count of five, Sarah is forced to let go.


BG: That was close, Jacko!

JC: But to Kieran’s credit, he is still in it!

BG: Dollface had to know that this wasn’t going to be that easy.


Kieran pulls himself under the bottom rope and back out to the floor, right where Sarah has the mats pulled up. He kicks the mat back over onto the concrete, eliciting some jeers from the audience who like that sort of thing. By the time he turns to face Wolf she’s right out there standing next to him. She shoves him shoulder first into the barricade!

1!


JC: Someone please tell the Ref to just let them fight!


2!


BG: Yeah. Make like Elsa and just let it go!


Sarah tries to slam Kierans arm down across the top of the barricade, but King fires off with a knifeedge chop that surprises her, followed with a lighting fast low dropkick that takes out Sarah’s legs and sends her chin first down onto the metal barricade!

3!

She pings off of it and her head snaps back. King senses his opportunity and slides back into the ring. Breaking the count.

He waits for Sarah to pull herself back up before springboarding over the top rope down onto her with a suicide dive that sends her flying right back into that same barricade!


JC: Tope suicida!

BG: Is it?

JC: ¡Para la raza, lo es!

1!

King slides back into the ring yet again, drawing the ire of the referee. He shrugs it off and readies himself. He waits for Sarah Wolf and springboards over the top rope looking for a Sucide Dive, but Sarah has it well scouted and she falls backward and allows King to catch nothing but a stomach full of thin padding over the concrete floor. She stumbles forward, yanks King up, and piledrives him right there on that very spot!

2!


JC: Oh my God!

BG: She had been looking for that Piledriver all match, Jackie. But she and King are still on the outside.

JC: You’re right! This isn’t falls count anywhere! Dollface has got to get him back in the ring!


3!

Sarah shakes off the cobwebs and pulls King back to his feet and back into the ring. She’s a bit slow to follow in, as she has to shove a lifeless body far enough away from the ropes to make the pin.

She hooks the leg!


One!














Two!














The shoulder of King shoots up off of the mat!


JC: Ohhh, I thought she had him!

BG: So did half of the people in this arena!


Sarah questions the referee only to find out that it was a two count. She turns her attention back toward King.

She waits for him to get back up and she kicks him in the gut and throws him shoulder first into the middle turnbuckle. King screams out in pain. As he turns, Sarah grabs him with the Devillock! But King counters with a monkey flip, sending Sarah slamming back first into those same turnbuckles!


JC: Monkey flip!

BG: I love how King can pull that move off so flawlessly.


King charges and hops over her, jumping up, and attempting a lionsault, but Wolf gets her knees up!

Sarah rolls King up with a small package!


One!














Two!!














Thr-Nooo!


King somehow slips out!


BG: She almost had him with his own move!

JC: So a small package is King’s move now?

BG: He doesn’t care how he wins, baby! He’s a results guy!


Both competitors spin back to a vertical base. Sarah swings with another spinning heel kick but King ducks it and bounds off of the ropes. King catches Dollface with a big slingblade! Sensing that Wolf won’t stay down, he pulls her back to her feet and sets her up by the corner. He runs up the turnbuckles, and leaps backward with a whisper in the wind… connects!


JC: Huge air!


King goes for the cover…


One!














Two!













Nooo!!

Wolf kicks out at two and seven-eighths!


BG: What?! How?!

JC: This is intense!

BG: Yeah, but both of these S-tier competitors must be wondering when and how they can score the knockout blow!

JC: Or in Dollface’s case… perhaps the big submission!


King calls for the end and he pulls Wolf into a vertical suplex position. He hoists her up for an F Ur Head Brainbuster, but she blocks the attempt! King rattles off a few closed shots into her ribcage and tries again… but again Wolf blocks it! Finally, he tries to get her up a third time but it seems as though his shoulder gives out on him! Sarah lands back down on her feet and she locks in the Devillock!


JC: Devillock! Devillock!

BG: It’s that goddamned Mandible Claw!

JC: She’s got it locked in good and tight, too!


King reels backward, flailing his arms, trying to reach the ropes, but Wolfe has a good grasp on the back of her head. King hauls off and kicks her between the legs with a vicious low blow! It seems to have a little effect… but not enough to break the hold. The referee admonishes King and warns him while he’s in the process of fading from the Devillock!


JC: He’s losing it!

BG: If he hits the mat, this one is all over!


King down to one knee. Sarah pulls him in and wrenches it in even tighter. He tries to fight her off, but his shoulder simply won’t agree with it. Again, in desperation, he tries for a monkey flip. He flips Sarah over, but she holds on and he goes flipping over with her!


JC: Kings counter was just… countered!

BG: I can’t believe this!

JC: KING IS FADING! KING IS FADING!


King pulls himself up and stumbles back towards the ropes. The referee calls for a break, but Dollface isn’t budging.

1!
2!
3!
4!


JC: Let him go! Don’t let it end like this!


5- no!

As the referee was trying to pull Wolf off of King, Kieran catches Sarah with a thumb to the eye!

The referee pulls Wolf back right into position where King can leap forward and catch her with a codebreaker!


BG: UGLY ON THE OUTSIDE!


King is coughing. He is dizzy. He can barely pull himself over and drape an arm over Wolf.


One!














Two!















Three!!!

WINNER - KING KIERAN Advances to Semi-Finals

JC: I can’t believe this! King just used the Referee to put Sarah in position for the Ugly on the Outside codebreaker!

BG: And it scored him the victory, Jacko! What else is there to say?

JC: Maybe if Sarah Wolf would have let go, then the referee wouldn’t have been trying to pull her away?

BG: Maybe! But unfortunately, Dollface does like to get carried away out there. And tonight it cost her dearly.

King rolls over onto his back and breathes a deep sigh of relief, still clutching his face from the effects of the Wolfs Blood from earlier. The referee goes to check on Wolf, who spits her Wolfs blood right in his face!

DING DING DING


JC: Nooo, stop this! You can’t assault a referee like that!

BG: Honestly, if there ever was a time. This dude was annoying.

JC: That could be a big Xbux fine right there! Or worse!


Wolf swipes her hand across the referee’s face, shoving him down to the mat. She then catches Kieran just making it back to his feet and she locks in the Hybrid Theory! King struggles to fight it, but the added Wolfs Blood on her hand makes the hold unbearable! He drops down to his knees, and then to the mat, with Sarah Wolf keeping that sick mandible claw locked in the entire time!

DING DING DING DING DING


BG: Well, you said she just likes to hurt people…

JC: But this is after the match, Brody. This may be too far!

BG: I don’t think Sarah Wolf does “too far”.


A horde of zebras and other XWF officials come running down the ring to physically pry Wolf off of King, but the damage may already have been done. King rolls around on the mat coughing and choking as Wolf is pulled away from him.


JC: I don’t know if she’s proud about this, or upset, or what.

BG: I don’t either, Jackie. But it doesn’t change the fact that King Kieran is moving on. It’s just the second time in two rounds that the King wasn’t saved by the bell!

---

JC:  We're back here on Warfare and Brody… the question about who is going to the Ides of March to challenge Prince Adeyemi for the Universal Championship has persisted for weeks!

BG:  It has, Jack!  The Empire has crumbled and the new champion stands tall.  Waiting, watching… begging for his next challenger to stand up!

JC:  So much so, that Prince Adeyemi took a seat with us to call a match during a match just to scout possible opponents.

BG:  Jacuinde, I have it in good authority that we're about to find out that answer.

JC:  Well… it's the go-home episode here from Pittsburgh so it's not much of a stretch. 3…2…. 1





The arena is electric with anticipation, the air thick with the weight of a new era. Then—


"I GOT A BONE TO PICK!"


The opening horns of "King Kunta" by Kendrick Lamar blast through the speakers, and the crowd erupts in a mixture of cheers and jeers. The bassline kicks in, rattling the arena as golden spotlights sweep across the stage. A single beam focuses on the entrance, illuminating the silhouette of the newly crowned Universal Champion.

Isaiah King steps through the curtain, the title draped over his shoulder, gripping it tightly. His expression is unreadable—composed, but there’s something in his eyes. A weight. A history. He doesn’t rush. Each step down the ramp is measured, purposeful.

As he nears the ring, the camera catches the slight clench of his jaw as he surveys the landscape. This is his kingdom now. No one to stand beside him. No one to share the moment. Just him and the weight of the throne.

He climbs the steel steps, pausing on the apron as the chorus rings out. He steps inside, raises the championship high above his head, and then brings it down, staring at it for just a second longer than expected. Then, with a breath, he slings it over his shoulder and calls for a mic.
He lets the song ride for a moment longer before raising the mic to his lips.


“A kingdom without a king is no kingdom at all. A championship without a champion, is not championship at all. And a Champion without competition… Ain’t much to talk about.”


Isaiah circles the ring, scanning through the crowd.


“So let’s talk about competition, shall we?”


The crowd erupts into a cheer of “Yes! Yes! Yes!”


JC:  The ever-popular Universal Champion!

BG:  I can’t say I agree with these miscreants, but Adeyemi has defied the odds, defied the expectations, and like it or not, he…

JC:  …He is the Universal Champion!  The man earned that championship by defeating two of the very best in this entire business!  Everyone wants to believe they’re the best, but…

BG:  Until you hold THAT championship… OUR championship… the absolute best you can be is second place!


"I know there’s plenty of ‘em already licking their lips, watching this, thinking they’re next in line. Maybe it’s Johnny Bacchus, still running his mouth, still too stubborn to know when to quit. Maybe it’s Charlie, since he ain’t dead yet and keeps grinning like he knows something I don’t. Scoops McGee, the man who lost and won his belt back on the same night by sheer willpower."


He paces the ring, his voice steady but laced with a simmering fire.


"Hell, maybe it’s Aurora, Lucy Wylde, Madison Dyson or Kieran King, people chasing after their own dreams, establishing their own dominance."


He stops dead center, eyes locking with the hard cam.


"But whoever it is… don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m still the man I was a year ago. The lonely King is building up his kingdom. And while there may be a locker room full of men and women hoping to tear it down…"


He hoists the championship high once more.


"Ima’ beat your ass and hide the bible if God watchin’. There ain’t nobody in this locker I won’t squabble up with, nobody who’s jaw I won’t crack in a second. Come one and all, stand before your king and make my blood boil like never before."


Isaiah paces the ring, a bounce in his step and a deep growl in his voice.


”The hunter becomes the hunted they’ve said too many times before, every challenger’s thrown that line out to make it sound like for some reason I’m just a punk ass cornered against a wall. But I ain’t no punk ass, and there ain’t no wall behind me - this is my kingdom, I’m holding court, and when you walk down that ramp and stand before me, it’s home ground, my friend. I’ve walked through these ropes the last few years, each time poised and ready to kill. I’ve spilt blood on this mat countless times, each time yearning to be better than before. I have conquered kings and emperors - each time sharpening my blade further.”


The crowd starts hollering from behind Isaiah, building up into a frenzy alongside his bloodlust.


“I may finally be the king but I’m still the hunter I’ve always been - I am the APEX predator and there ain’t no-”





BG: About time somebody shut him up!

JC:  Here comes… THE BOSS!


As Highly Suspect’s music is abruptly cut off, the sound of a man tapping gently against a microphone echoes through the arena. The jeers aimed at Isaiah King are swiftly drowned out by an eruption of cheers from the half of the crowd still reveling in their disdain for him.

Stepping through the curtain with effortless confidence, Thaddeus Duke emerges from the back, dressed in a sharply tailored black-and-white suit that exudes both wealth and authority. Microphone in hand, a knowing smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he surveys the scene before him, basking in the adoration of those who welcome his presence.


HELLO! he yells from the stage into the microphone.  MY NAME IS HUUUMANN!


Easy pop from the crowd as they briefly join in on the chorus.


JC:  We have a COO in a jovial mood tonight!

BG:  Why would he not?  He’s the point man of the greatest, best, most competitive promotion on the planet!


I love you idiots! Thad says to the crowd before staring from the stage to the ring at the Universal champion.

I’m sorry Isaiah, but the clock’s ticking and this show must go on… We’ve actually just decided which of these…

Predators…

Will be the next challenger!


Big pop.  Big big pop.


BG:  Who is it!?

JC:  Rumor is, Thad and the championship committee had been waiting for someone to jump off the page, so to speak!


He is a man who’s swept through this business like a wildfire since his arrival, he’s won championships, he’s beaten some of the best… And with momentum like this, we thought he’s earned his place and is hungry for more… Ladies and Gentlemen, your number one contender for the Universal Championship!





JC: It’s JAMES SHARK!

BG: What better hunter, what more prolific APEX PREDATOR! Isaiah’s got quite the fight in store for himself.


Thad stands on stage as the Shark tron plays.  The fans go nuts.  Backstage, the James Shark locker room door swings open and the man himself, the new number one contender to the XWF Universal Championship emerges.


JC:  The number one contender does not come alone!

BG:  Trailed by XWF security, the City of Pittsburgh police, Pennsylvania State Troopers and is that…

JC:  Yes, it is!  He’s also being escorted by U.S. god damned Marshals!


The backstage cameras follow James Shark and his heavy police presence of an entourage through the halls and up to the Pryce Position.  Moments later, James Shark and company emerge through the curtain and he and Thad exchange a fist bump.  A moment later, Thad hands the microphone off and disappears through the curtain.


JC:  Whatever else he is, the man is over!

BG:  Without question!

JC:  James Shark has no doubt had an amazing run thus far in the XWF capturing both the Television and Xtreme championships along the way and here he is now…

BG:  Fresh off of his momentous victory over Sebastian Everett-Bryce just two weeks ago!

JC:  On the cusp, on the brink, on the doorstep of greatness and immortality!


“Isaiah, Isaiah, Isaiah…”


Shark cocks a smile, wagging his finger at Isaiah from a distance as he begins to slowly walk down the ramp. The U.S. Marshals follow closely beside him, stone faced and watching his every move.


“All that yip-yap on the microphone, listing name after name and somehow, my name ain’t come out not once???”


Shark shakes his head and stops as he reaches the end of the ramp.


“It’s okay. I get it. Been in this game way too long. I know and you know the moment you said ‘JAMES SHARK’ it would feel real. You know and I know after acknowledging me you wouldn’t be able to do all that big king talk no more. Yup, that’s it.”


Shark walks forward, the U.S. Marshals hesitant to let him any closer to the ring, they reluctantly follow him as he circles the ring. Some of the marshals circle the other side of the ring and Isaiah starts to feel like he is being surrounded. He keeps his eyes locked in on Shark.


“I don’t give a fuck about the blood you spilt in that ring, the people you beat, the challenges you’ve conquered. There’s only one name that’s ever truly mattered in this damn business and it’s the same goddamn name that you just somehow forgot to mention despite that crater sized dent I left in Sebastian’s skull with my elbow.”


Shark bangs the microphone on his elbow several times. The sound of the microphone slamming against it can be heard throughout the arena loud and clear.

*THUD THUD THUD*


“The truth of the matter is, ain’t nobody gonna come at you like I will for THAT Championship. It’s what I want and it’s what I’m going to take. Hold it tight. Protect it. I don’t fucking care. I’ll pry it off your dead hands if I have to because you're starin’ at a man that’s ready to pull the trigger just as quick as you are. The name lonely king will never be more true than when I take EVERYTHING away from you.”


Shark walks all around the ring, passing the U.S Marshals as he then begins to walk up the steps.


“You see these stupid cops around me, Champ? Apparently I’m a flight risk. The whole world knows the moment the bell rings I’m takin’ off with my foot in your ass.”


Shark steps over the ropes, Isaiah staring him down, ready to throw down if necessary.


“But their presence is proof. Proof that NO matter what roadblocks they throw my way, I always get where I’m supposed to be. Since I’ve announced my return to this business the universe has DONE EVERYTHING to KEEP ME FROM THIS MOMENT. Done everything to STOP ME from getting HERE.”


Shark steps up to Isaiah. Face to face.


“But look at me now. Standin’ tall. You hold that Championship, I hold this game by the throat. From addictions, court cases, charges, heart break and Peter Principle problems, through hell and back, nothing could stop me. Now I’m right here in your motherfuckin’ face. The number one contender. Next in line. Next Universal Champion. Stop me now.”


The two men have an intense staredown with the fans cheering with excitement. Shark begins to laugh at Isaiah’s face, obnoxiously chewing his gum but his words and confidence doesn’t seem to phase the Champion at all. This seemingly gets underneath Shark’s skin a little bit as he is so used to getting under his opponent’s skin. Shark’s cocky smile starts to fade away…. Then suddenly…

*SPAT*

Shark spits his gum out and it bounces off Isaiah’s forehead. The crowd erupts into “OOOOOOOOHHHHS” at the disrespectful move. Isaiah’s eyes are enraged. He cracks Shark with a NASTY headbutt that staggers him back, dazing him for a few moments and allowing Isaiah to follow up with vicious lefts and rights.

The U.S. Marshals look at each other, unsure of whether to intervene yet—but Shark fires back, and suddenly the two are brawling in the center of the ring, swinging wildly with both connecting. The audio cuts in and out as the XWF production team struggles to keep the feed clean. The crowd is losing their minds as Shark and Isaiah try to rip each other apart.

Security and referees flood the ring, trying to break them up. Shark and Isaiah shove them aside and soon begin to crack them as well. One by one, security guards and officials are LAUNCHED out of the ring as the entire scene turns into chaos.

Shark tackles Isaiah through the ropes, and both men CRASH to the outside! The brawl spills into the crowd, where the fight turns even more violent! Fans scatter as Shark and Isaiah knock over chairs and railings, falling into fans as they throw haymakers, knees, and elbows at one another. The U.S Marshals get involved as fans are getting hurt. Shark ends up grabbing a steel chair and throwing it at Isaiah, who just barely dodges it as it BANGS against the barricade, almost hitting a fan that was getting out of the way. Isaiah fires back, launching a chair of his own. The U.S Marshals are able to tackle both men, restraining them and holding them on the ground as security does crowd control. The feed instantly cuts to black and the show goes off air for a while.

---

The feed returns but the cameras are focused solely on the announce team.  Their eyes are darting from one place to another as law enforcement and XWF officials keep the two Ides of March main event participants apart.


JC:  We apologize for that interruption.

BG:  Technical difficulties!  And I don’t mean a lame ass pay per view from a third world promotion in Key West!

JC:  XWF security and other officials…

BG:  Not to mention Pittsburgh Police and Pennsylvania State Troopers…

JC:  Along with the U.S. Marshal Service have seemingly restored order tonight in Pittsburgh!

BG:  I mean, with such eclectic, warrior driven personalities like Isaiah King and James Shark, I think that went about as well as expected!

JC:  Organized chaos, that’s what the Boss refers to it as.

BG:  Whatever else he is, Thaddeus Duke knows how to nudge the pieces in the right direction and then just let the pieces fall where they may.

JC:  He surely does and we’re coming out of Warfare tonight with two gigantic matches signed, sealed and to be delivered at Ides of March!

BG:  Earlier tonight it was made official as Johnny Bacchus and Sebastian Everett-Bryce will do battle inside Thaddeus Duke’s own Lion’s Den!

JC:  Of course not to be outdone, Isaiah King WILL defend the Universal Championship on pay per view against perhaps the NEW baddest man on the planet, James Shark!

BG:  The champ, naturally, will have the champions advantage.

JC:  Two big time matches are official and as order is restored here in Pittsburgh, we’ll take a break but when we come back, it’s the main event!

BG:  The legendary Dolly Waters goes one on one with a legend in his own right, Johnny Bacchus!

JC:  Stay with us!

---

JC: We’ve got our main event here tonight, Brody, and it’s one I’ve been chomping at the bit for.

BG: Johnny Bacchus, Dolly Waters - they’ve got a history together already, and it’s a history that’s gonna have a new chapter as they face off against each other here on their last stop before the Ides of March!





The stadium spotlights rush up toward the ceiling and Waters appears under the XTron. She marches to the beat of Ode To Joy, the crowd roaring, her gaze set squarely on the squared circle. She climbs through the ropes and takes the center of the ring. Raising a single fist into the air.





The camera focuses on the stage as the lights cut and “The Gnashing” by Deafheaven begins to play over the P.A.  The guitar seems to shimmer over the crowd as muffled as white lights flash like sparks around the floor.  A name appears on the tron: Jonathan Bacchus. 




The crowd reacts as out from behind the curtain walks Jonathan Bacchus, dressed in all black with a peacoat over a turtleneck and combat pants bloused into his Louboutin sneakers.  He wears a white Thalia mask over his face, his hair hanging down over the top. 




He marches down deliberately, his eyes on the ring.  On the ramp, he removes the Thalia mask and flicks it casually over his shoulder into the crowd. 

ANNOUNCER: Making his way to the ring, from Oakland, California and weighing in at 205 lbs… he is “The Insurgent” – JONATHAN!  BACCHUS!




At the base of the ring, Bacchus turns to the stairs and climbs them to the turnbuckle.  With a single clean vault, he launches himself over the top rope and turns to land on the middle rope inside the ring, his peacoat seeming not to hamper his movement.  As his theme song explodes into the chorus, he throws his head back and arms out, the lights flashing bright white and the audience roaring appreciatively! 




A small smirk creeps over his face as he looks around at them – yet an intensity remains in his eyes.  He takes a moment to blow a few kisses to nobody in particular.




He removes his peacoat and drops it to the outside before pulling his turtleneck over his head.  He whips this into the crowd before dropping down to the mat, circling the ring before taking back to his corner and reclining in it.

Dolly Waters - vs - Johnny Bacchus

[i]DING! DING! DING![/i]

As the bell rings, both Dolly and Jonathan stare at each other from across the ring, determined looks along their faces. There’s a lot of history in the air, a lot of animosity as neither one of them looks to try and give an inch here in the opening seconds of this contest.

JC: Very much a big fight feel here in this arena, Brody. These two faced off once before in one-on-one action, but that was when Dolly was under the identity of ‘Misty Waters.’ Different circumstances here tonight, to say the least.

BG: Different circumstances, yeah. I remember the Insurgency needing to come out here to bail Bacchus out during their last match.

JC: You’d be remembering right, but that was then, and this is now. It doesn’t look like there’s any help that’ll be coming out here to even the odds for either side…

The two saunter towards the middle of the ring, a slow nod of understanding coming from between both competitors here. Still, Bacchus extends an arm, looking for a lock-up here. Dolly hesitates… before she accepts! The fans pop for the collar-and-elbow tie-up, both these competitors looking for the upper hand here in the early going!

It doesn’t take long, but Bacchus asserts the upper hand, pushing Dolly towards the far corner! She tries to hold her own, but it doesn’t take long before her body gets pushed up against the hard, unforgiving turnbuckle. The referee looks to quickly get involved, demanding a rope break as he counts.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

FI-!

Bacchus relents as he lets go of Dolly!

JC: That close to getting an early disqualification…

BG: Yeah, and that would have been a damn travesty! These guys need to lock in!

The referee tries to separate the two…

…BUT NOT BEFORE BACCHUS LANDS AN OPEN-PALMED SLAP ON THE FACE OF DOLLY WATERS! The crowd gasps as Bacchus gets sent right to the middle of the ring again while staring at her!

JC: Cheap sneak attack there by Bacchus!

BG: Better than having his cronies run interference like last time, I’ll tell you what. Besides, it’s not kosher, but not totally against the rules.

JC: Just because it’s not against the rules doesn’t mean we have to like it, Brody!

Dolly rubs her sore cheek as she looks to concentrate, coming back into the center of the ring to try for another lock-up against Bacchus once again. The two push on each other, Dolly trying to use some sharp footwork to keep her stance wide and prevent herself from being easily pushed back again.

Bacchus realizes this and grunts as he has to adjust, this time coming to a side headlock around Dolly’s head. Dolly pries at the grasp to no avail, and decides to now be the one to move Bacchus, this time to the ring ropes. Bacchus holds firm at first, but Dolly manages to throw him off into an Irish Whip!

Bacchus runs the ropes! Comes back off the rebound - Dolly ducks down onto the mat to try and trip Bacchus! Bacchus hops over though, gets a head of steam and runs off the opposite set of ropes while Dolly gets back to her feet! Dolly leaps into the air as Bacchus ducks underneath - BUT HE TURNS AROUND RIGHT WHEN HE COMES BEHIND DOLLY!

DOLLY’S STILL IN THE AIR!

BACCHUS CATCHES HER AND THROWS HER DOWN WITH A GERMAN! SUUUUUUUUUPLEX!

JC: Picture-perfect German Suplex there by Jonathan Bacchus! Looked like something reminiscent of SEB’s playbook, to be honest…

BG: You think he’s trying to send a message to him ahead of their match at Ides of March?

JC: I think so, but I also think that Bacchus shouldn’t overlook the very game Dolly Waters in front of him!

Bacchus gets back up, huffing as he does so. He grabs Dolly by the hair, looking to bring her back onto her feet… OH! Dolly with a huge uppercut to the gut doubles Bacchus over! And another! And another!

She comes back onto her feet - HUGE calf kick takes Bacchus down! The echo from the impact echoes around for the first few rows and cameras to pick up as Bacchus hits the mat hard! Dolly sees her opening as she runs the ropes! She has Bacchus in her sights while planting her palm to the ground - AND SHE HITS A BIG HANDSTAND KNEE DROP TO THE CRANIUM!

The fans pop for the display of acrobatics as Bacchus is placed onto the back foot! He tries to go for the ropes to pull himself back to his feet, but Dolly won’t let him! She mounts Bacchus from behind, looking for some slicing palm strikes right to the sides of the skull!

Bacchus tries to cover up, but Dolly’s strikes are breaking through! They’re making his ears ring out from the impact, deafening him as he’s needing to move here! Bacchus gets down, rolling himself onto his back to try and face Dolly as she continues with more palm strikes!

Bacchus catches the arm! Traps it! He’s trying to squirm his feet out, looking for a triangle choke! Dolly sees it coming and quickly moves her own legs across, breaking the mount she had in place and grabs onto the nearby set of ropes!

BREAK!

BG: There’s Dolly showing that ring awareness. Bacchus has been around the block in a few different places, but Dolly’s been in an XWF ring way longer than he. She knew the ropes were nearby, and she smelled trouble in the air.

JC: Dolly possesses great ring IQ, but so does Bacchus. Both competitors have got to keep their wits about them as this match progresses here, lest they get themselves into trouble.

With the hold broken, both competitors hesitantly look at each other as they’re slow to get back onto their feet. Dolly’s the first one to do so, beckoning Bacchus to join her…

…But Bacchus instead drops to his back and rolls out the other nearby set of ropes to the outside!

BG: …Well, speaking of sharp ring awareness…

JC: Bacchus has to keep track of the referee’s count, though! He can’t let himself take a bad loss via count-out!

Dolly’s determined not to let Bacchus rest for long, though! Just as soon as Bacchus brings his gaze away from the ring, Dolly gets herself ready as she runs the ropes! She lunges - SUICIDE DIVE!

CAUGHT BY BACCHUS! HUGE UPPERCUT CATCHES DOLLY ON THE CHIN BEFORE SHE MANAGED TO LEAP OUT OF THE ROPES! She weakly staggers back into the middle of the ring, slumping to a seated position as blood dribbles out of her busted lip.

Bacchus smiles, taking a deep breath and admiring his handiwork as he slithers back into the ring. Dolly tries to get back onto her feet, but now it’s Bacchus who remains on the attack and refuses to let up. He runs the ropes, quickly taking Dolly right back down to the mat with a huge BULLDOG! Quick pin attempt by Bacchus!

ONE!







TWO!







KICKOUT!

JC: Gonna take a lot more than that to keep a competitor like Dolly Waters down!

BG: With every pin attempt though, Dolly’s gonna have to expend that extra little bit of energy to get her shoulder up…

Dolly weakly tries to roll towards the nearby ropes, but Bacchus cuts her off by jumping into the air - HUGE jumping double stomp to the chest! Dolly’s eyes widen as she huffs, hugging her midsection as she kicks at the air furiously!

Bacchus smirks, knowing he’s in control right now. He takes a deep breath, calming himself, keeping Dolly positioned on puppet strings as he sizes her up. Dolly grabs the nearby bottom rope, again trying to pull herself up, but Bacchus swoops in and kicks the rope away before pivoting to roundhouse kick her right in the skull! Dolly grabs her face as she rolls back right into the middle of the ring, trying to again bring herself up!

Bacchus sees his opportunity now as he runs the ropes! He’s got Dolly lined up - CURB STOMP!

DOLLY SWOOPS OUT OF THE WAY! Bacchus has to catch himself as he falls back down, rolling, now turning around to meet Dolly who’s right back up on her feet! Dolly moves to the nearby ropes! She springboards off of them to turn towards Bacchus who’s still hunched over!

Dolly swoops over Bacchus, proceeding to turn it into a Sunset Flip and hoists him over for the pin!

ONE!









TWO!









BACCHUS USES HIS STRENGTH TO SIT UP WITH DOLLY’S LEGS STILL HOOKED TO NOW PIN HER!

ONE!









TWO!









NOW IT’S DOLLY’S TURN TO SIT UP AND PIN BACCHUS!

ONE!









TWO!









BACCHUS PINNING!

ONE!









TWO!









DOLLY PINNING!

ONE!









TWO!









BACCHUS!

ONE!









TWO!









DOLLY!

ONE!









TWO!









BACCHUS ROLLS UP AGAIN, BUT THEY ROLL INTO THE ROPES AS THE REFEREE DEMANDS A BREAK!

JC: What a fast and furious frenzy here! I’m having trouble just keeping up with these two!

BG: They’ve both got points to prove, Jack. Johnny’s trying to finish this match with style because he knows he’s got a date with SEB. Dolly’s trying to take it upon herself to ‘expose’ Bacchus with this match here tonight and pick up steam on her own end for whatever tag title match comes at the Ides.

JC: All too true, Brody. Both these competitors have all the talent in the world going for them, and both of them are just as determined not to lose. That’s what makes this such a thrilling main event here tonight!

Bacchus manages to get onto his feet, but he’s stopped with a chop to the back by Dolly! That has him staggered, allowing her to come to the side and level him with a roundhouse to the stomach! That doubles him over, allowing Dolly to follow that up with another calf kick, this time sending him to his knees!

Dolly sees her opening now as she runs the ropes! She keeps up the momentum, levelling Bacchus with a CROSSBODY! She quickly rolls off of Bacchus, taking to the apron instead as she takes a deep breath, sizing up her mark… and LEAPS OFF THE TOP ROPE!

SPRINGBOARD FROG SPLASH NOW IN THE MIDDLE OF THE RING! BACCHUS GETS CAUGHT WITH THE SPLASH AS THE AIR GETS KNOCKED OUT OF HIS LUNGS!

Dolly goes for the pin now!

ONE!











TWO!











KICKOUT!

JC: Dolly’s a human wrecking ball when she builds up speed and momentum like this, Jack! Watching her go to work like this is like art!

BG: Yeah, don’t drool too much, Jack. This match ain’t over yet!

Dolly sizes up Bacchus, watching and waiting as sweat pours off of his body. He took a lot of damage, but he’s still hanging in there despite the absolutely exhausted look on his face. Dolly thumbs away the pooling blood from her lip, before getting right to work as she eyes up the nearby set of ropes!

Dolly leaps off - SPRINGBOARD UPPERCUT!

JC: Dolly hitting the Ode to Joy there!

BACCHUS CATCHES HER IN MID-AIR AGAIN!

BG: NOT!

HE SIDESTEPPED THE ATTEMPTED UPPERCUT, HAVING DOLLY HOISTED BY THE GUT! BACCHUS ROARS, TRYING TO BRING HER UP INTO A PILEDRIVER POSITION!

JC: BRILLIANT counter here by Jonathan Bacchus! You can see Dolly is resisting in the ring, but Bacchus’ intent is clear - he’s trying to bring Dolly up for that gutwrench piledriver he calls the Tragedy at Buffalo that’s put away so many people!

BG: He’s trying, but Dolly’s putting up one hell of a fight right now!

Dolly kicks and squirms with her legs, refusing to let Bacchus properly put her into position! She manages to get her feet grounded for just a moment, giving her just enough opportunity to pry away at Bacchus’ grip and break it, instead now taking a wrist lock and - TRYING TO BRING BACCHUS DOWN TO THE MAT AS DOLLY TRIES LOCKING IN A LEBELL LOCK!

BG: LOOK AT THESE TWO! They’re trading their best moves, tit-for-tat!

JC: Dolly usually tries locking in the Rolling Waters to roll her opponent over from a grounded position, but here we’re seeing it as a reversal!

Bacchus keeps his feet grounded though! Even as Dolly’s trying to properly raise her leg to put pressure on the shoulder, Bacchus keeping himself standing prevents Dolly from doing so! The referee comes to check on Bacchus with one hand stretching his face out, but he wags a finger no at him!

Bacchus isn’t saying ‘die’ quite yet! He takes his free hand, grabbing Dolly’s intrusive hand off of him as he twists around into another wrist lock! Dolly’s eyes are widening as Bacchus quickly kicks her in the gut! He comes in - twists around - AND LOCKS IN A SLEEPER CHOKE BEFORE USING IT TO SMASH DOLLY TO THE GROUND WITH A NECKBREAKER!

JC: BACCHUS BREAKS THE STALEMATE BETWEEN THEM! He Fetched the Guillotine on Dolly Waters right there!

Bacchus goes for another cover now!

ONE!













TWO!













KICKOOOOOOOOOOOOUT!

BG: Ah, he had her there! That ref needs to count faster!

JC: Jonathan almost had Dolly, but almost doesn’t count!

Bacchus huffs in frustration, bringing his hair out of his eyes as he tries to run through his strategies again. Dolly’s been proving to be a persistent opponent, but he has the upper hand right now.

He grabs Dolly by the hair, forcing her to her feet before ducking down low and grabbing her by the waist. He hoists her up as he runs forward - SPINEBUSTER TOWARDS THE CORNER!

Dolly yells as the damage is immediately felt to her midsection and back. Bacchus tries to rip Dolly out of the corner, but she hooks her arms around the top rope, and Bacchus can’t pry her free. He straightens himself, eyebrows furrowed as he gets into a Muay Thai stance.

A jab lands right on Dolly’s face, whipping her face back. It’s immediately followed by a hook to the side, followed by a stiff kick to the other side. Bacchus tries to bring Dolly out again, but her arms are still firm against the turnbuckle! A sharp back elbow knocks Dolly loopy, but she’s not letting go of the ropes!

The referee finally gets involved here, forcing a clean break as Bacchus is forced to back up. The reprieve only lasts for but a moment though, as Bacchus curses loudly and immediately tries to go on the attack towards Dolly! He lunges in - DOLLY RAISES HER LEGS TO KICK BACCHUS RIGHT ON THE CHIN!

BACCHUS STAGGERS BACK, STARING AT DOLLY AS SHE LUNGES IN! HUGE SPINNING WHEEL KICK KNOCKS HIM DOWN, AND DOLLY SCAMPERS RIGHT BACK TO THE CORNER AS SHE SEES HER OPPORTUNITY!

JC: SERENITY FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALL! DOLLY HIT THAT LEG DROP TO PERFECTION!

BG: SHE CAN STEAL THIS ONE RIGHT HERE!

The referee counts!

ONE!

















TWO!

















KICKOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUT!

JC: Now it’s Bacchus who’s digging down deep for a kickout!

BG: One more move might spell the end of this match, though!

Dolly gets right back onto her feet, grabbing Bacchus by the head and forcing him onto his knees as he looks back at Dolly! The two of them say something to each other - something that the camera can’t quite pick up - but it’s enough to get Dolly heated!

Dolly backs right back up, sizing Bacchus up as she lunges right in to try and kick his head off with the RUNNING WATERS!









BACCHUS DUCKS UNDERNEATH AND COLLAPSES!

DOLLY’S KICK GOES WIDE BY A MILE AS SHE HITS THE RING HARD! THE IMPACT HAS HER KNEE CLIPPED AGAINST THE MAT AS SHE GINGERLY HOLDS ONTO IT!

BACCHUS GETS BACK UP ONTO HIS FEET AS HE SEES DOLLY INJURED AND HE DOESN’T HOLD BACK! HE BRINGS HER IN TIGHT IN THE GUTWRENCH AND HOISTS HER UP!

TRAGEDY AT BUFFALOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

JC: HE HIT IT! BACCHUS FINALLY HIT IT!

BG: Can this end it?!

ONE!

























TWO!





















THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

JC: IT’S OVER! What a match!

BG: If Bacchus didn’t collapse right there, Dolly would have kicked his head off and won!

WINNER: Jonathan Bacchus!

With sweat pooling down his face, Bacchus accepts the referee’s help as he’s brought back to his feet, his hand raised high as he soaks in the mixed reaction to his victory. It was certainly a hard-fought one, but he wasn’t going to complain about the end result.

As he turned his glance to Dolly, the two shared a glance with Dolly fighting to stay conscious as Bacchus gave her a simple nod of respect before rolling out of the ring, heading up the ramp with his hands on his hips.

JC: Thank you for joining us on what’s been another thrilling night of Warfare action everybody!

BG: You’re not gonna be able to listen to our amazing voices tomorrow night…

JC: But be sure to tune in anyway for Tuesday Night Savage!

Warfare fades to black as Bacchus stares at the camera.

SPECIAL THANKS: Gator Charlie Cankles Aurora Liam Desmond Johnny Bacchus SEB Isaiah King James Shark Sarah Wolf Mystery Segment Submitter

// a big shout out to mine and Bacchus' match writer... what a battle!

And a bigger shoutout to Bacchus for such damn good match, for being an absolute class-act, and pleasure to compete with!

4x XTreme Champion    (1x as Misty Waters)
2x Tag Team Champion (w/ Vita Valenteen, w/ Charlie Nickles)
2x Hart Champion
3x Television Champion

4x Star Of The Month
August '24(As Misty Waters), August ‘21, May ‘17, October ‘16

3x RP Of The Month
What light through sonder... my perception breaks.
Tranquility: For Old Times Sake
Manifest Victory

The pleasure was all mine <3