LIVE FROM THE WAVERLY HILLS SANATORIUM
LOUISVILLE, KENTUCKY
Mastermind
- vs -
Madison Dyson Mind Asylum Match
This glorified I QUIT match will be held in a recreation of the old Waverly Hills psych ward. Who will win the grand prize of a lobotomy?
Marisol Vilaro
- vs -
Summer Page Trick-or-Treat Street Fight: Waverly Edition
In this no-disqualification brawl, the "treats" are hidden in hollowed-out old hospital lockers, and each one contains a potential weapon or prank.
Da Bing Bong Twinz, Big Preesh & Mini Morbid
- vs -
Dominik Strike, Latoya Hixx & “Cavortin” Jake Borden The Monster Mash Costume Melee:
This six-and-a-half-person tag match/costume contest, takes place in the overgrown, haunted courtyard of Waverly Hills. We’ve constructed a ring out there, but the only people in attendance will be the ghosts of all the dead TB patients. They'll be the ones judging your costumes. Better not make them BOOOO!!!
We're looking for one team collab RP per team 1K Word limit
Mr. Oz
- vs -
‘The Dark Warrior’ Micheal Graves NON-TITLE
"Graveyard Shift Match"
This match takes place in a haunted section of Waverly Hills underground tunnels, where the dead were once transported.
The only way to win is to knock your opponent unconscious, load them up on an old body cart, and dumb them into the body chute at the end of the tunnel.
This match takes place in the old morgue, complete with abandoned body racks and decaying medical instruments. The only way to win is to completely incapacitate your opponent.
XWF Anarchy opens with a spooky drone shot of the Waverly Hills Sanatorium. Its haunted walls bathed in a ghastly green light, fog rolling over the grounds as the camera swoops toward the courtyard. Out in the center of this haunted setup, surrounded by overgrown vines and cobweb-covered decor, sit Todd and Bama T. at their commentary table. Both are in costumes- Todd is dressed as Dracula, complete with a dark cape and fake fangs, while Bama sports a cowboy getup with a fake lasso and plastic fangs to match.
TODD: Ladies and gentlemen, creatures of the night, welcome to a very special edition of Thursday Night Anarchy! Welcome… to Anarchoween! I’m Todd, dressed as your dark and brooding vampire host, and here with me is my “partner-in-horror”
He looks over at Bama, twisting a curious eyebrow.
TODD: …my fanged cowboy co-host, Bama T!
Bama twirls an air lasso:
BAMA: Yee-haw and boo to you too, baby! I reckon there’s no place I’d rather be than here at Waverly Hills Sanatorium. They say this place is haunted by hundreds of restless spirits, and you know what? Tonight, we’re gonna give those ghosts one heck of a show!
TODD: We’ve got a horrifying lineup tonight, courtesy of our elusive new GM, “The Bashmaster” Barry Masterson. And while he hasn’t graced us with his presence just yet, he sure has left his mark on tonight’s card.
BAMA:Well, Todd, if you’re gonna call yourself the Bashmaster, you gotta go big. And tonight’s matches? BIG doesn’t even begin to describe ‘em! We’re in for a freakin’ nightmare of a show, baby!
The camera zooms out as eerie music fills the air.. Fog rolls across the courtyard as the lights dim, signaling the start of the first match. The screen fades to black with the words "Anarchoween" flashing on the screen as the show officially kicks off.
...but not before a most horrifying documercial spreading awareness about the ghastly life of wrestling match camera people
We return to the camera opening on the Waverly Hills Psych Ward
In the center of the room sits an examination chair on wheels… On its left and right sides are trays of medical tools… Scalpels, orbitoclasts, hammers, chloroform…
TODD: Whaddya make of these tools, Bama?
BAMA: I’ve got the willies just looking at these doodads, Toddrick! I don’t even like going to the dentist, I don’t wanna see this horror-show!
…
BAMA: I mean, okay, I *kinda* wanna see it. But I’ll be looking through my hands as I cover my eyes!
Madison Dyson saunters through the hallways of the Waverly Hills psych ward…
TODD: Dyson scored a very impressive victory over Mister Oz last Anarchy! That won her a title opportunity to compete for either the Anarchy championship OR the Revolution championship!
BAMA: But, if she wants to cash that puppy in, she’s gotta SURVIVE tonight, Toddy!
TODD: Very true, Bama! Madison may have a championship opportunity in here future, but to get there, she’s going to have to overcome the reigning XWF Television champion…
Madison Dyson then heads down the aisle confidently, bitching out any plebes that dare to boo her.
The spooky, blinking televisions in the psych ward shows a barrage of images of Madison kicking the holy living shit out of that abject loser Sean Parker and others, intercut with her name logo and a queen's crown laden with barbed wire.
She admires the tray of archaic medical implements nearest to her… She kneels down to examine the examination chair’s wheels…
[blue]TODD: Dyson is… a wily competitor! Clearly using this time where her opponent isn’t here yet to consider her environment!
BAMA: Folks, if you were tuning in tonight to watch some catch-as-catch-can wrasslin’... You might wanna put the kids to the bed, cuz this one’s gonna be a BLOODBATH.
Before crossing her arms, impatiently waiting for her opponent…
A figure is seen walking through the hallways of the psych ward, wearing a black hooded sweatshirt. The hood obscures his downward gaze.
BAMA: We know who this is, Toddy Baby!
TODD: The reigning Television champion, Mastermind! Fresh off his first title defense on Warfare, an impressive victory over a very game Razor Blade!
BAMA: Impressive to all but Madison Dyson, Toddy! Madison says management handed MM the title after the prior champ’s sudden departure… And that the boys upstairs are protecting MM’s possession of the TV title with handpicked opponents!
TODD: Fighting words, indeed! Dyson has a sharp tongue! And if I know Mastermind, the Master of Minds… He’s excited to take one of those sharp tools to try to cut Dyson’s tongue out!
As his signature song blares through the psych ward’s creepy PA system, the figure removes his hood, revealing himself to be Mastermind!
He turns the corner, and enters the examination room with Dys-
WHAM! The second MM is in the doorway, Dyson KICKS the examination chair-on-wheels into his legs!
MM reacts smoothly, his hands deftly move, blocking the chair…
But, as he does, Dyson runs, springing off the arm of the chair…
AND CATCHING MM with a leaping forearm to the jaw!
TODD: Oh my goodness, no prematch handshakes for this one! Someone put the match graphic on the screen!
Mastermind
- vs -
Madison Dyson Mind Asylum Match This glorified I QUIT match will be held in a recreation of the old Waverly Hills psych ward. Who will win the grand prize of a lobotomy?
Mastermind’s backed up against the wall of the examination room! Dyson presses the TV champ into the corner, winding up and catching him on the chin with a series of European uppercuts!
Dyson winds up another strike…
But MM fully palms her face, and heaves her backwards against the chair, throwing Mammon’s Little Helper spine-first against the rolling chair’s hard metal edge! Her body collides with the leftmost tray of tools! Scalpels and drills, fall to the floor!
Dyson rolls onto the floor, cradling her spine, as Mastermind shakes his head, trying to recover from Dyson’s opening barrage…
TODD: Madison clearly trying to take this one early with a savage ambush! Maybe now things will settle to a more traditional battle…
Mastermind pushes off the wall… as Dyson’s fingers trace the floor, searching for a tool from those that fell to the ground…
SNATCH! MM snags Dyson by her leg and drags her away from her potential weaponry!
TODD: Smart move by MM! He’s got the size advantage here, the last thing he wants to do is let Dyson use weaponry to try and equalize!
MM then mounts the prone Dyson, wrapping his hands around her throat! He throttles! Choking the life out of Miss MAGA!
TODD: Oh my god! Mastermind not even trying to get Dyson to say ‘I QUIT’... He’s just choking the very life out her!
BAMA: I s’pose MM’s logic is… if he inflicts enough pain on Dyson, she’ll find a way to scream for it to stop!
MM pulls Dyson up, still in the choke… And SLAMS her skull against the hard tile floor!
Dyson’s face contorts, seizing from lack of oxygen…
…But in her hand… The scalpel!
TODD: Oh dear! It seems MM didn’t move quite fast enough to keep those implements out of Dyson’s reach!
BAMA: And, even worse, it looks like MM doesn’t know she has it!
MM lifts her off the ground to throttle her skull against the floor again…
AND THAT’S WHEN SHE JABS THE BLADE STRAIGHT INTO MM’S LEG!
MM howls at the top of his lungs… In that moment, his grip on Dyson’s throat loosens in shock…
Just enough for Dyson to HEADBUTT, catching MM square in the nose! MM drops onto his back! MM draws his leg to his chest, squeezing the edge of the scalpel EMBEDDED into his thigh!
BAMA: Holy HELL!
TODD: Dyson was in a desperate spot! And desperate people do desperate things! Absolutely incredible counter! As brilliant as it was morally reprehensible!
Dyson rolls onto her front, coughing and sputtering as oxygen rushes back into her lungs…
Before scooping from the floor… a dental drill!
BAMA: Oh Sweet Baby Jesus, no!
MM grits his teeth… Mentally counting to three…
SWIP! He pulls the scalpel out of his leg! Blood runs down his leg! He slams his fist against the ground, trying to make his brain focus on anything but the stabbing pain in his leg
TODD: MM, choosing to take it out, rather than leave in Dyson’s blade!
MM tosses away the scalpel, and tries to shove himself off the gr-
WHAM! This time, Dyson mounts the Television champ!
And in her hands?
WHIZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! The dental drill is LIVE!
TODD: Oh goodness, I hope MM doesn’t have any cavities!
BAMA: Oh God, I can’t look… I-hate-the-dentist-I-hate-the-dentist-I-hate-the-dentist…
Dyson drives the drill toward MM’s face!
…But MM’s hands meet and block Dyson’s drill! The rapidly whizzing metal drill hovers just INCHES above his lips!
TODD: Oh my God! Will MM scream ‘I Quit’? Or is he about to get some amateur plaque removal from Dyson, non D.D.S.?
Dyson shifts her shoulder, trying to put her whole weight into drilling MM’s face off!
The drill gets even closer… but MM narrowly keeps the drill from entering his mouth…
…Dyson grins insidiously…
As the drill moves…
Up from MM’s mouth…
…And hovers DIRECTLY over MM’s eye!
TODD: OH GOD NO!
MM’s visage is filled with horror! He holds onto the drill for dear life!
Dyson giggles, driven with a mad lust for violence! She pushes on the drill with all she’s got!
…
IT DROPS!
…
BUT as Dyson shoves down, MM slips out of the way!
And Dyson’s drill misses, dipping INTO the floor, chipping and breaking the tile!
BAMA: Gee-Hosephat! If that drill would chip through concrete, it’d SCRAMBLE MM’s eye!
Mastermind desperately scrambles over to the still standing tray, snagging…
The chloroform and a rag!
TODD: Oh my! If you’re looking to put someone down for the count, that’ll do the trick?
Dyson tries to rip the drill out of the ground… But it’s stuck DEEP in the floor!
…Dyson heaves to rip it back out…
When behind her, MM launches a MIND SLEEPER! Wrapping his bicep around Dyson’s throat…
And wrapping his hand around her face with a chloroform rag!
BAMA: I hate to give it to MM, but well-done! This should put his opponent under in SECONDS!
Dyson thrashes like a wild animal, trying to heave MM off of her back… But MM holds on tight, holding the rag firm and maintaining the sleeper!
BAMA: …Any second now!
Dyson reels her head back… AND BITES MM’S HAND THROUGH THE RAG!
MM seethes in pain, dropping the rag! Shoving Dyson away!
Dyson stumbles forward… Her head smacks against the wall… But, she’s still standing… albeit, somewhat drowsily.
BAMA: What gives, Toddy baby! Chloroform knocks people out like a light in the movies! Is Dyson some kind of super woman?
TODD: Well, Bama, movies aren’t always accurate. Experts say chloroform exposure would take several minutes to take effect. That said, Dyson is clearly feeling *some* effect from that chloroform exposure!
Dyson’s head is off-kilter… clearly dealing with some lightheadedness…
MM, still bleeding from the leg, stumbles away from his opponent… He sees a door in the corner! He throws it open looking for more weapons…
…And what he finds inside draws a sinister smile from the Demon in Your Dreams.
TODD: Both these competitors are sadistic in their tastes and BRUTAL in their strategies!
Dyson shoves off the wall.. She sees a blur headed toward her…
She shakes her head, trying to regain an air of sobriety, and stomps forward to swing a haymaker!
…But her arm…
GETS CAUGHT IN a white sleeve!
MM then masterfully wristlocks her free-arm… and takes her in the other sleeve…
Dyson is CAUGHT IN A STRAIGHT-JACKET!
BAMA: Ho-Lay Guacamo-Lay! MM has trapped Dyson in one of them psycho-sweaters!
TODD: The same tools doctors use to ensure a patient can’t harm themselves, Mastermind has used to stop Dyson from harming him!
Mastermind takes Dyson in a standing switch… And pulls the straps tight!
Dyson’s arms are crossed against her front! Completely disarmed!
MM then swings to her front side…
And scoops her into the air!
URANAGE SLAM TO THE CONCRETE FLOOR!
Dyson’s head ROCKS against the concrete!
BAMA: Gah DAMN! That move woulda finished anyone! Dyson’s gonna be begging to quit!
…Mastermind exhaustedly doubles over of his opponent.
”Give Up.”
…
Dyson shakes her head from the ground.
”...Fah… Fah kyu.” She spits deliriously.
TODD: Ironically, the chloroform might have helped dull the pain of that slam a bit, Bama! Incredibly, Dyson wants to continue!
Mastermind shakes his head… as he lifts his boot and STOMPS Dyson in her ribs!
TODD: The Television champion clearly ready to put this one away…
BAMA: Only question is… How?!?
Mastermind rolls the chair behind him, so as to avoid Dyson reaching out to any other desperation tools…
THEN, Mastermind exhaustedly turns Dyson onto her front… Sits on her spine…
And reels her skull back! Her spine curves against itself!
TODD: Camel Clutch! MM trying to end this one with a straight-jacket assisted Camel Clutch!
Dyson screeches in agony, as MM peels her back with all his might… Letting her stretch forward… THEN PEELING HER BACK AGAIN…
TODD: Mastermind is using Madison Dyson’s spinal cord as his own personal rowing machine!
”GIVE UP.”
Dyson shakes her head, spitting out blood running down her mouth.
”...FAKYOU.”
Mastermind lets her head rest forward again…
…Not noting the straps on Dyson’s back have loosened!
BAMA: MM might have cut a corner or two there trying to restrain Dyson!
TODD: But for now, he still has her right where he wants her!
MM once again goes to pull b-
WHAM! Dyson catches MM under the eye with a backwards headbutt!
MM stumbles backwards as Dyson… KIPS UP IN HER STRAIGHTJACKET!
TODD: Look, ma! No hands!
Mastermind rubs his eyes, shocked…
As Dyson springs forward… RUNNING DROPKICK!
CATCHING MM in the face!
He’s knocked backwards!
STRAIGHT INTO THE EXAMINING CHAIR!
TODD: Oh no! That is definitely no-man’s land in this match!
Dyson wriggles her arms free and tosses the straightjacket to the floor…
As MM woozily tries to exit the chair…
Dyson launches a cross-kick to his chest! Mastermind is PLASTERED into the chair! Dyson reaches under it… And ties the chair’s STRAPS across MM’s chest, completely trapping the TV champ!
MM spits defiantly.
”You think I’ll quit?”
…Dyson chuckles… As she reaches for the tray of medical tools…
And retrieves an orbitoclast… And a hammer.
TODD: Oh my god! someone please stop this! Dyson’s about to give MM an old-school lobotomy!
Dyson slips the orbitoclast riiiiiiiiiight above MM’s eye socket.
BAMA: AVERT YOUR EYES, SASSAFRAS!
SASSAFRAS: *bark*
Dyson sets the hammer atop the orbitoclast… As MM’s terrified face heaves, as he struggles desperately to free himself!
DYSON REELS BACK!
”I QUIT! I QUIT!”
DING DING
WINNER: MADISON DYSON
Dyson drops the hammer, exhaustedly pumps a fist in the air…
Before collapsing backwards onto the floor, taking a chloroform nap…
…
Leaving MM still strapped to the chair!
TODD: What an all-out WAR between these two competitors! Mastermind pulled every trick in the book and almost stole this one with that chloroform plan!
BAMA: But Dyson proved tougher than a Texas tick! And REFUSED TO LOSE! Absolutely horrifying from start-to-finish.
TODD: And it’s only the first match of our Anarchoween, Bama! We’ve got four more to go!
BAMA: …Ohhhhh… Goody.
TODD: Now, these two competitors have HISTORY, Bama!
BAMA: No doubt about it, Toddy, baby! These two used to be closer than biscuits ‘n gravy! Vilaro managed Summer and her sister, teamed with Summer’s sister, Vanessa… You can’t really tell the story of one without the other appearing as a co-star!
TODD: And you can’t tell either’s story without covering their fallout last year! These former best friends are now the BITTEREST of rivals! But, tonight, they settle it in the ring
…
TODD: Well, a sort of metaphorical ring. This match actually takes place in a hallway… with lockers. But, it’s a ring of sorts, one could arg-
BAMA: Todd, I’m gonna cut you off, because Marisol’s most of the way through her entrance already.
Indeed, Marisol Vilaro is dancing and posing through the spooky hallways of Waverly Hills, as a spooky remix of Taylor Swift’s “Shake It Off” blares over the Sanatorium’s PA system.
TODD: …Lot of pipe organs in this remix…
BAMA: Pipe organs are spooky, Todd!
Suddenly, S&M By Rhianna play throughout the Sanatorium’s hallways!
Summer emerges through the front-door of the Sanatorium. As she does, lightning strikes!
Summer sees her archrival standing at the other end of the hallway…
The two begin walking toward each other…
TODD: You can feel the sparks flying already between these two!
BAMA: Ab-so-loot-ley, Toddy Baby! These two are gonna scrap and scratch til there’s not unmarked patch ‘o skin between ‘em!
The two stop about ten feet from one another…
In the dim, flickering light of the eerie Waverly Hills Sanatorium, Marisol Vilaró stands across from Summer Page, her face a mask of disdain, lips curling into a smirk as she sizes up her opponent. Summer’s jaw clenches, eyes narrowing, her body tense with anticipation as the bell echoes ominously through the cold, silent halls.
Above the two, a dust-covered bell rings!
DING DING!
Marisol Vilaro
- vs -
Summer Page Trick-or-Treat Street Fight: Waverly Edition
In this no-disqualification brawl, the "treats" are hidden in hollowed-out old hospital lockers, and each one contains a potential weapon or prank.
The moment the bell rings, Summer lunges forward, her eyes blazing with focused aggression. Her teeth grit, her gaze locked on Marisol as she drives her knee sharply into Marisol’s midsection!
Marisol’s mouth opens in a sharp gasp, her hand instinctively wrapping around her stomach as her brows furrow in pain. Vilaro staggers back into the lockers, her gaze darkening with anger and a fierce determination to retaliate.
TODD: Wow! That knee was LIGHTNING fast!
BAMA: But Marisol has ABS of STEEL! It almost bounced off harmlessly!
TODD: Almost, but you can see it did *some* damage!
Summer charges in for another rapid-fire strike… Looking for a haymaker!
But, Marisol throws open the locker behind her… Locker #1!
And Summer’s hand COLLDIES with the metal frame! Page backs up a step, shaking her fist in pain!
TODD: Here we go! In this match, these two competitors can open every locker in the Sanatorium’s hallway! These lockers used to be used by the psychopathic nurses that worked at this Sanatorium! Some may contain treats… and some tricks! Risk and reward!
BAMA: It looks like Miss Vilaro weaponized the first locker… And now, she gets to see what’s inside!
Marisol’s lips curl into a cruel smile, amused at Summer’s fist pain… She turns her attention toward the locker…
And her eyes spark with satisfaction as she pulls out…
A shovel!
BAMA: Holy cow! I don’t think Miss Vilaro’s gonna use that to bury the hatchet!
TODD: Marisol’s first locker is definitely a treat!
Vilaro takes the shovel, swinging it up with a glint of wicked glee in her eyes! Summer’s face twists with alarm, her eyes widening just before she throws herself out of the way of Marisol’s mad strike!
Marisol swings!
…And swishes through empty air, Page barely avoiding the strike!
TODD: Phew… A connection there could have put Page’s chances to rest tonight!
BAMA: Shovel violence! I can dig it, Toddy!
Marisol’s smile fades, frustration tightening her lips… Refusing to relent, Marisol swings again, going for a sideways slash…
And this time she connects! A sharp thud sounds against Summer’s side!
TODD: OUCH!
Summer lets out a gasp of pain, her body folding over as her mouth twists into a grimace. She drops to one knee, clutching her ribs as Marisol presses the flat of the shovel against Summer’s throat, leaning in with a smug expression of satisfaction.
BAMA: Daggum, Vilaro’s a master! I ain’t never seen someone choke someone out with a shovel before!
TODD: In another world, Vilaro might’ve been the world’s greatest ditch digger!
Summer’s legs kick wildly, as Vilaro presses the shovel head harder against Page’s windpipe…
Vilaro lifts her foot to DRIVE the shovel into Page’s throat! Smirking with psychotic glee!
TODD: Oh my God! Vilaro might try to take Page’s head off her shoulders!
…
But as Marisol’s smirk grows, Summer’s face hardens into a determined glare. With a burst of strength, she kicks…
And connects with Vilaro’s chest! The shovel drops out of Marisol’s hands, as she’s pressed back against the lockers!
TODD: Phew, close call, but Summer survives!
BAMA: Yeah, but Toddrick! Again, Vilaro’s got superior position! SHE can open the lockers and pull out another weapon!
Marisol’s face contorts in frustration… but her expression becomes one of delight, as she her hands travel backwards to Locker 2!
Summer struggles to rise back to a vertical base… As Vilaro throws open the locker and reaches her hand inside!
…
But! Her triumphant expression quickly turns to one of horror as SNAKES slither out, hissing as they fall around her feet!
BAMA: Snakes! Why’d it have to be snakes?!?
TODD: Live by the lockers, die by the lockers! Marisol’s second trip to the lockers results in her getting TRICKED!
Marisol recoils horrified, her hands flailing as she tries to shake the feeling of the slithering creatures off her.
…As Marisol disgustedly tries to shove the locker closed again… struggling as a comically large number of snakes keep pouring out of it… Page rises back to her feet!
BAMA: Uh oh! Marisol’s rolled the dice, and ended up with snake eyes!
TODD: And now her eyes are off her opponent!
Seeing her rival distracted, Summer’s face sharpens with resolve.
Marisol finally finds the wherewithal to shove Locker #2 closed again…
Just as Summer’s hands ball into fists as she throws herself forward, driving a stiff kick to Marisol’s midsection!
WHACK! Marisol’s brief relief is wiped away, replaced by shock as the air is forced from her lungs. Summer grabs Marisol by the hair, her mouth set in a thin line as she slams Marisol’s head into Locker #3. Marisol’s face scrunches up in pain as she stumbles, momentarily disoriented!
As Marisol rubs her temples, that last attack giving her a splitting headache… Summer reaches for Locker 3, her eyes bright with the hope of finding a weapon!
BAMA: Summer’s first trip to the lockers!
TODD: The ‘Spoiled’ one hoping for a treat to put away Vilaro!
Summer reaches her hand deep into the locker, seeking a weapon…
…
But her face quickly twists in horror! Arachnids pour over her hands and up her arms! Spiders, tarantulas, scorpions!
TODD: Oh no! A TRICK!
BAMA: …I mean, it could be a treat… Maybe one of those spiders is radioactive and Summer gets superpowers!
Page shrieks, shaking her hands wildly to rid herself of the crawling creatures, her face pale with shock!
Marisol’s expression shifts from pained to calculating as she notices Summer’s distress, her lips twitching into a sinister smile.
Page desperately shakes and brushes off the tiny eight-legged creatures…
When, all of a sudden, Vilaro seizes Summer’s head and drives it back it into Locker #3!
TODD: Oh God! Vilaro completely submerges Page’s head in the locker of arachnids!
BAMA: …Man, I should rewatch Fear Factor. Whatever happened to Joe Rogan anyway?
Vilaro’s face twists with sadistic glee as Summer’s arms panickedly shake…
Until Page’s hand firmly grasp the sides of the locker…
And she THROWS her head back, catching Vilaro in the skull!
Vilaro is driven backward… cradling her face… As Page, her head COVERED in spiders… dashes to the other side of the thin hall… going for…
A water fountain!
TODD: Ah! Quick thinking by Page!
BAMA: …Down comes the water to wash the spiders out!
Page quickly spritzes her face as arachnids are hosed off her head!
Vilaro rubs the brewing shiner under her eye… She turns to Locker #4… And opens it… Veeeeeery carefully.
BAMA: Vilaro *clearly* learning her lesson that the lockers should be opened with CAUTION!
Vilaro carefully peeks inside… And her eyes light up with satisfaction!
Page turns around, her previously flawlessly groomed hair now looking very wet…
As Marisol steps forward with…
A BARBED-WIRE BAT!
TODD: Oh my!
BAMA: Who was the nurse that left THAT in there?!?
Summer’s eyes widen, her face betraying a flash of fear as she instinctively tries to scoot away, but Marisol advances, her expression cold and unyielding.
Page turns around and tries to break into a full retreat…
When Vilaro swings!
And RAKES the barbed-wire across Summer’s back. Summer’s face twists in agony, her mouth opening in a silent scream as she crumples to her knees, clutching at her torn shirt.
Marisol’s eyes gleam with cruel satisfaction as she raises the bat again looking for a finishing blow…
Summer’s expression hardens, determination flickering in her eyes as she musters her strength from the ground!
Vilaro reels back for a HOME RUN…
But Page twists! Sweeping her leg and catching Marisol off guard, knocking her to the floor!
TODD: Page sweeps the leg!
BAMA: GET IN THE BODY BAG, MARISOL, YEEEEEEEEEEEEAH!
Marisol’s look of shock quickly shifts to fury as Summer sputters trying to get back to her feet…
Marisol beats Page off the ground… And runs from her opponent back to the lockers… to LOCKER #5!
BAMA: Marisol keeps getting closer and closer to winning with each weapon… Will this locker finish the job?
Marisol yanks open Locker #5…
…BUT THE MOMENT SHE OPENS THE LOCKER…
MINI-MORBID LEAPS OUT! DRESSED IN OVERALLS LIKE A CHUCKY DOLL! AND A KITCHEN KNIFE IN HIS HANDS!
BAMA: Great hornytoads! Who put HIM in there?!?
TODD: Maybe that locker was once a treat… But Mini-Morbid is quite a trickster!
Marisol’s face twists in revulsion, as Mini-Morbid writhes in her arms, trying to slice and dice her!
…Marisol drops the mini…
RIGHT ONTO HER FOOT!
Mini-Morbid gets PUNTED ALL THE WAY DOWN THE HALL!
BAMA: Daggum, what distance! That’s a touchback for sure!
Marisol’s eyes light up with malice as she turns around…
Just in time for Summer’s ELBOW to connect with Marisol’s FACE!
Vilaro stumbles, her expression dazed as she clutches her jaw, covering her face defensively.
Page’s lungs heave exhaustedly… as her rests on…
The last Locker… LOCKER NUMBER SIX.
TODD: Oh dear… Page already got tricked twice… Maybe the third time’s the charm!
Page exhales nervously… Before she tosses open the locker…
…
Revealing…
A SLEDGEHAMMER!
TODD: Now THAT is a treat!
Marisol shakes off the disorientation… Her eyes begin to focus…
And her face drains of color as Vilaro backs up, eyes wide with panic!
Summer raises the weapon high!
As Vilaro swings, Vilaro BARELY drops and rolls, the sledgehammer crashing down onto the floor where she had just been!
TODD: If Vilaro wants to stay alive in this one, she’s gotta get that weapon outta Page’s hands!
Summer struggles to heave the sledgehammer back into swinging position…
When Vilaro springs up to grab the other end of the hammer!
The two briefly jockey, dueling to rip it out of the other one’s hands!
TODD: It all comes down to this! Who will win?!?
BAMA: Vilaro of course! She’s got the grip strength of a black hole!
The hammer *does* start slowly slipping into Vilaro’s control…
Marisol smiles wildly, feeling victory is imminent…
Page grits her teeth trying to hang on…
…When her eyes widen in inspiration…
Vilaro grits *her* teeth and YANKS with all she’s got!
…
And Page…
COMPLETELY LETS GO!
Vilaro pulls backwards, anticipating resistance!
And trips backward over her own feet!
She trips over one of the snakes, still crawling along the floor…
And her head SLAMS against the locker behind her!
TODD: You were right, Bama! Vilaro won the battle… But Page might still win the war!
Vilaro stumbles forward, dizzied by her skull striking metal…
As Page slips forward… AND DROP TOEHOLDS Vilaro to the ground! The sledge hammer slides away out of Vilaro’s grip, as Page takes hold of her opponent’s leg!
Taking a deep breath, Summer’s face tightens with concentration as she steps over Marisol and locks in her Perfect 10 – a Figure Four Leg Lock!
Marisol’s face contorts in agony, her mouth stretching into a scream as she thrashes, clawing at the floor.
TODD: This could be it, Bama! Page has Vilaro trapped! And there are no ropes to breaka submission hold in that hallway!
Page BRIDGES HER BACK! The Figure Four becomes a FIGURE EIGHT!
AND WITH THAT the pain becomes unbearable!!!
With a strangled cry, Vilaro slaps the ground, her expression a mix of anguish and frustration.
WINNER: ‘SPOILED’ SUMMER PAGE
TODD: WOW! What a FIGHT! These two came at each other with every single trick… every weapon…
BAMA: And it still feels like these two have a score to settle! If this match was supposed to help them get their feelings out and make-up, I think it just solidified the HOSTILITY between these two!
TODD: You’re right, Bama! These two will likely meet again… but for tonight, Summer Page claims the victory!
As Summer stands, victorious, a smirk creeps across her face, the glow of triumph lighting her features. The echoes of her laughter resonate through the dark, haunted halls, while Marisol lies on the cold floor, defeated and broken.
Scene opens to the courtyard of Waverly Hills Sanatorium, where the wrestling ring stands under the shadows of overgrown trees and crumbling stone statues.
A spectral crowd of “TB ghosts” appears in the mist, watching from the edge of the courtyard.
The camera pans around the ring, showing both teams already assembled and in costume,
TODD: Welcome back, everyone, to Anarchoween! And what a sight we have here in the Waverly Hills courtyard for our next match. It’s spooky, it’s foggy, and it’s downright disturbing! We’re set for a six-and-a-half-person tag match where costumes, chaos, and a bit of ghostly judgment await each of our competitors.
The camera cuts to the first team, who are looking… somewhat prepared. “Cavortin’” Jake Borden, dressed as Shaggy from Scooby-Doo, nervously fidgets with his collar. Beside him, Dominik Strife, in a perfectly on-point Fred costume, does his best to look calm and collected, even giving a confident nod to the crowd. Meanwhile, Latoya Hixx stands at the edge of the ring, arms crossed, completely disinterested in the costumes and barely acknowledging her team’s theme.
The camera then shifts to their opponents, we see Da Bing Bong Twinzz, MC C-Munqqquee BathZaltzz and Li’l Ca$h-App Dolla Billyunnai$$e, in full rapper gear, only, that’s how they’re always dresssed. Next to them, Mini Morbid stands serious and ready in a blood-spattered Jason Voorhees mask, glaring intensely at his opponents. Big Preesh, all seven feet and 650 pounds of him, looms behind the Twinzz, looking slightly disoriented but still menacing in his typical ring gear, just with a new-ish looking mustard stain on his breast.
BAMA: I’ve gotta say it, baby. This is the most underwhelming costume contest I’ve ever seen.
Da Bing Bong Twinz, Big Preesh & Mini Morbid
- vs -
Dominik Strike, Latoya Hixx & “Cavortin” Jake Borden The Monster Mash Costume Melee:
This six-and-a-half-person tag match/costume contest, takes place in the overgrown, haunted courtyard of Waverly Hills. We’ve constructed a ring out there, but the only people in attendance will be the ghosts of all the dead TB patients. They'll be the ones judging your costumes. Better not make them BOOOO!!!
The bell rings, and the match is underway.
The eerie fog rolls through the overgrown courtyard as Jake Borden, nervously tugging at his Shaggy costume, stands opposite Mini Morbid, who’s in a blood-splattered Jason Voorhees mask.
Dominik Strife, dressed as Fred, watches from the apron, determination shining in his eyes. Meanwhile, Latoya Hixx taps her foot on the apron, looking ready to smash anything but completely disinterested in the costumes or the Halloween theme altogether.
TODD: And we’re off! It’s Halloween chaos here tonight and I gotta say, Bama, I never thought I’d see Shaggy taking on Jason Voorhees in a wrestling ring.
BAMA: I’m still tryin’ to figure out what kinda horror show we’re in, Todd! If Mini Morbid’s taking this match half as seriously as that mask says he is, then Borden might be wishin’ he stayed home tonight!
Mini Morbid wastes no time, charging at Borden.
Borden lets out a startled yelp and awkwardly tries to scramble out of the way, stumbling just in time to dodge a brutal clothesline.
Mini Morbid, with too much momentum, gets tangled in the ropes. Borden stands there, wide-eyed, realizing he’s just avoided a near-decapitation and looks out at Strife, who’s clapping for him with genuine enthusiasm.
TODD: Well, maybe luck’s on Jake’s side tonight, Bama! His fear just saved him from a clothesline that would’ve taken his head clean off!
BAMA: His head? Listen, I’m as big a Mini Morid fan as the next guy, but my baby is a baby, baby!
Morbid wrenches himself free from the ropes, grumbling under his breath as he sets his sights back on Borden, who’s doing his best to look brave.
With a deep breath, Borden charges forward and goes for a Lou Thesz Press!
He takes Morbid down, landing clumsily but getting a few half-hearted punches in.
BORDEN:Take that… and that… and that!
Morbid shoves Borden off with ease, getting to his feet with a snarl as Borden backs up, looking ready to flee.
Morbid lunges forward, but Borden, acting on pure reflex, ducks and rolls under Morbid’s outstretched arms.
Seeing his chance, Dominik reaches out and calls for the tag. Borden eagerly tags him in, practically scrambling out of the ring.
DOMINIK:Alright, let’s do this!
Dominik jumps into the ring, hitting Morbid with a quick series of forearm strikes, driving him back toward his team’s corner.
He hip-tosses Mini Morbid from the corner to the mat, and eyes the Twinzz, who are too busy hyping each other up on the apron to notice that Morbid is getting beat up by a rookie.
TODD: Dominik Strife’s stepping up! This kid’s showing us he’s got the potential to be a real leader in there!
Good thing too, Todd, ‘cause Borden’s lookin’ like he’s ready to hightail it outta here the minute he smells trouble!
Dominik picks Mini back up, hitting some knife edge chops and backing Morbid all the way into his corner again, where he’s suddenly blindsided by a double-clothesline from Da Bing Bong Twinzz!
They spring into action with some noxious synchronized taunting.
Dominik hits the mat hard, but he rolls quickly back to his feet, eyes narrowed in determination.
C-MUNQQQUEE:We about to make you famous, son!
LIL’ CA$H-APP: Fuck yo scarf! Bing Bong gonna leave you flat on the ground, bro!
The Twinzz high-five each other, both too busy celebrating to notice Dominik’s back on his feet.
Dominik takes a step back and then launches into a swift dropkick, taking down both Twinzz in one shot. The ghost crowd cheers as Morbid, standing on the apron, lets out an exasperated groan and rolls his eyes under his mask. He glares at his teammates.
MINI MORBID: Are you two here to wrestle or to die like your gang banger fathers? Get it together!
Dominik tags Borden back in, and Borden looks around with a mix of determination and terror.
He enters the ring, locking eyes with Lil’ Ca$h-App, who’s just getting to his feet. Ca$h-App smirks and points at Borden, taunting him as he stalks forward. Borden, sweating bullets, goes for a wild swing. Ca$h-App dodges easily, but in his attempt to counter, trips over his own foot and stumbles backward, hitting the ropes.
BAMA: Did Jake just scare Ca$h-App outta his own boots?!
TODD: Or maybe the Bing Bong Twinzz just have less coordination than we thought!
Capitalizing on the moment, Borden grabs Ca$h-App in a headlock, holding on with everything he’s got as Ca$h-App flails, trying to escape.
Suddenly, Big Preesh steps into the ring, towering over both of them. Borden freezes, his eyes wide with terror as Preesh cracks his knuckles and slowly steps forward, his menacing frame blocking out the overhead lights.
PREESHY: Is ye’ ready to die, boy!
BORDEN: Oh no…
Preesh lunges forward, grabbing Borden by the collar and yanking him off Ca$h-App like he’s a rag doll.
Borden struggles helplessly in Preesh’s grip as Preesh winds up for a devastating Big Brain Chop.
But before he can bring his hand down, Dominik leaps off the top rope, landing a well-timed missile dropkick to Preesh’s back!
Preesh stumbles forward, releasing Borden, who lands in a heap on the mat.
BAMA: Dominik’s savin’ his partner’s bacon once again, baby! This kid’s got eyes like a hawk!
Borden tags Dominik back in!
Dominik wastes no time, climbing the ropes and leaping off with a high crossbody that catches both Twinzz as they’re regrouping, sending them crashing back to the mat. The ghost crowd roars in approval!
Meanwhile, Hixx finally steps into the ring, surveying the action. She sizes up C-Munq, who’s just gotten back to his feet, and casually grabs him by the waist, lifting him up and slamming him down with her Latoya Slam!
C-Munney bounces off the mat, and Hixx, looking satisfied with herself, turns and steps back onto the apron without another glance at her opponents, or her partners.
TODD: Outta nowhere, Latoya Hixx with a huge slam! Maybe she’s decided to join the match after all!
BAMA:Or maybe she just wanted to remind ‘em who’s got the power! Either way, looks like C-Munqqquee’s seein’ stars now!
Dominik shrugs, confused by Hixx’s lack of participation, and random show of gusto, but he’s determined to keep the pressure on.
He hauls Ca$h-App to his feet, hitting him with a quick Mark 69!
The knee strike lands clean, followed by a fierce bulldog, that slams Ca$h-App’s face into the mat.
Dominik goes for the cover!
1!
2!!
MINI MORBID!!!!!
He storms in with the fury and might of a thousand pagan gods, breaking up the pin with a vicious stomp to Dominik’s back.
He grabs Dominik by the hair, hoisting him up and yelling into his face through the Jason mask.
MINI MORBID:You think you can handle me? I’ll show you what true power is!
Morbid swings Dominik into the ropes and levels him with a spinning heel kick. He then throws Strife into the corner and in an incredible feat of strength that only a god like Mini Morbid could display, he lifts Strife up into a tombstone on the top rope!
SATAN’S FALL!!!
But Dominik counters mid-air! Managing to flip over Morbid’s shoulders and land on his feet behind him.
As Morbid turns around, Dominik nails him with a lightning-fast superkick to the mask, causing Morbid to stumble back, dazed.
BAMA: Dominik just escaped certain doom with that counter! And he’s back on the offensive!
Borden knows his teammate needs help, and charges into the ring and goes for a dramatic, yet awkward looking double axe handle on Morbid.
He misses, but his momentum causes him to trip and fall headfirst into Preesh’s stomach, effectively knocking the wind out of him.
TODD: Did Jake just accidentally knock down another opponent? This kid’s a wrecking ball of unintentional chaos!
The Twinzz, now infuriated, rush at Borden together, grabbing him and throwing him into the corner.
They begin pummeling him, but Dominik sprints over, delivering a flying forearm that knocks Lil’ Ca$h-App out cold. He then grabs C-Munqqquee, lifting him for a snap suplex and sending him crashing to the mat.
Meanwhile, Big Preesh has recovered and joined the fray once again, deliberately marching toward the action with a menacing grin.
Dominik and Borden look at each other, clearly unsure of how to take down the massive seven-footer. Hixx, seemingly amused by the challenge, steps in, gesturing for her teammates to stand aside.
[Hixx:]Step back, boys. I got this.
She moves toward Preesh, eyeing him confidently. The two stare each other down, and just as Preesh goes for a punch, Hixx ducks and tries to lift him into a scoop slam. BUT SHE’S NOT STRONG ENOUGH!
Instead she falls backward, and ontop of her own partners! Injuring all three of them in the process.
TODD: Latoya Hixx may have just doomed her team!
Morbid notices the downed competitors, and scales the top rope. He leaps off with a diving elbow drop and plants it into Strife’s chest!
He goes for the cover!
1!
2!!
BORDEN MAKES THE SAVE!
BARELY!
Hixx rolls out of the ring, having nearly lost the match for her team. Bored helps Dominik to his feet, BUT FROM BEHIND IT’S A LOW BLOW FROM Ca$h-App!
BAMA: The ref didn’t see it, baby! Totally legal!
TODD: If we’re being honest, Bama, nothing about this match has been legal. I don’t even know who the two legal competitors are anymore, and I think the ref has given up.
BAMA: Yeah, wait a sec… isn’t this a costume contest?
Todd just shrugs.
Ca$h-App throws Borden out of the ring and moves onto Strife. Ready to inflict some real damage with his brawling skillz.
But a standing dropkick from Strife blasts one twin into the other, and C-Munqqquee’s head whiplashes from the mat violently.
Strife climbs to the top rope and signals for the ghost fans, who cheer as he dives off with a beautiful diving leg drop onto C-Munqqquee.
He quickly goes for the cover
1!
BUT MORBID! HE’S AND UP ON HIS FEET SCRAMBLING TO BREAK UP THE FALL!
TODD:They did it! Dominik Strife, Jake Borden, and, well, Latoya Hixx technically, have won the Monster Mash Melee!
The ghosts “cheer” as the winners celebrate. Throwing up perfect ten signs judging the performance.
Borden looks shocked but thrilled, Dominik beaming with pride with such a breakout performance for this up and coming star, and Hixx barely acknowledges her team’s victory.
The losers limp from the ring, Mini Morbid furious and berating the Twinzz and Preeshy Baby.
Mr. Oz
- vs -
‘The Dark Warrior’ Micheal Graves NON-TITLE
"Graveyard Shift Match"
The broadcast of Anarchoween continues, now from the haunted tunnels of Waverly Hills Sanatorium, the only light coming from dim, flickering bulbs along the walls and a few scattered torches casting eerie shadows. Todd and Bama T. sit at a makeshift commentary table, dressed in Halloween costumes. Their voices fill the tense silence as faint echoes of the crowd drift through hidden speakers throughout the corridor.
TODD: Welcome back ladies and gentlemen. We are live here in the heart of Waverly Hills Sanatorium’s infamous tunnels for our Graveyard Shift Match! The rules? Simple. Knock your opponent out, load ‘em onto the body cart, and wheel them down the tunnel, dumping them into the body chute. Tonight’s match features Mr. Oz against “The Dark Warrior” Micheal Graves!
BAMA: And Todd, you just know Michael Graves is out here to teach Oz a lesson in pain! He’s not just here to wrestle, he’s here to spark a whole movement! The wisdom of Graves can’t be ignored!
Todd sighs
TODD: Bama, that’s clearly Mark Flynn in facepaint. Look at him- he’s got all Flynn’s moves, Flynn’s style. Heck, he’s a good 4 inches shorter! Are we really still pretending this is Graves?
BAMA: Of course it’s Graves, Todd! Just listen to him talk about unity, workers’ rights, and fighting management’s manipulation! Mark Flynn wouldn’t talk like that- he’s too… Flynn!
TODD: Right… Micheal Graves died and was resurrected as Eugene Debs. Call him Graves or Flynn, Fidel Castro, but he’s taking on Mr. Oz tonight- a man who practically worships himself and has a major mean streak. And here comes Oz now!
Mr. Oz steps into the tunnel, towering at six-foot-eight with a muscular build. He wears loose white pants and tape on his fists, cracking his neck and glaring at “Graves,” who waits at the other end of the corridor with a calm, almost mocking expression.
BAMA: Oh, look at that, Todd! The true Dark Warrior doesn’t even flinch against a giant like Oz! It’s all part of the master’s plan.
TODD: Or maybe Flynn just knows Oz is big but slow. Let’s see if his so-called “master plan” works out against a guy who loves hurting people just for the fun of it.
The bell rings, echoing through the tunnels. Oz wastes no time, storming toward “Graves” with a powerful clothesline, trying to decapitate his opponent right out of the gate. Gravy ducks, slipping out of Oz’s reach and delivering a quick series of kicks to the leg, targeting the big man’s base.
TODD: Smart strategy from Graves here, going for the legs. He knows he can’t match Oz’s strength head-on.
BAMA: Exactly, Todd! Graves is a true strategist. That’s what years of enlightenment give you- a plan for every situation!
Oz stumbles, momentarily thrown off balance, but recovers and lunges forward with another massive swing. This time, he catches Graves around the neck and yanks him up, slamming him down with a devastating gorilla press gutbuster!
Graves smacks the floor hard, clutching his midsection in pain.
BAMA: Oh, that’s gotta hurt, baby! But you know, Todd, this is just part of the journey for Graves. Every Dark Warrior must endure to inspire others!
Oz smirks, reveling in his early advantage as he lifts Graves back to his feet. He hoists him up for a delayed vertical suplex, holding him aloft for several long seconds, showing off his strength before slamming him down to the floor. The impact echoes through the tunnels as Graves arches his back in pain.
As Oz taunts the fallen Graves, something changes in the Gravy’s expression. His face twists into a dark smirk as he rises, almost as if he’s feeding off the pain. He pulls himself up, wiping blood from his lip, and rolls his shoulders with a sinister chuckle.
BAMA: See that? That’s the spirit of the Dark Warrior, Todd! He’s relishing this fight—it’s all part of his masterful plan.
TODD: Or maybe he’s just too stubborn to stay down, Bama.
Oz looks thrown off by Gravy's resilience, and charges forward with another clothesline- but Graves side steps at the last moment, driving a surgical thumb to the eye!
Oz stumbles back, temporarily blinded, and Graves capitalizes, dropping low to hit a chop block that forces the giant down to one knee.
TODD: There it is! “Graves” going for those legs again, taking away Oz’s power advantage.
BAMA: And look at that technique, Todd! That’s textbook Graves! He’s drawing on ancient, mystic strategies!
TODD: Ancient strategies, or Flynn’s usual sneaky tactics?
With Oz on one knee, Graves steps back and charges…
A BRUTAL RIPARTE KNEE DIRECTLY TO OZ’S CHIN!
The big man wobbles, stunned, and Graves seizes the opportunity, dragging Oz down into a Fujiwara Armbar, wrenching back on his arm with precision.
Oz howls in pain, thrashing as Graves digs the hold in deeper his face contorted with a twisted joy.
AND OZ IS TAPPING ALREADY! OZ IS SUBMITTING!
BAMA: Look at that beautiful technique, Todd! This is a master at work. Graves is showing us how it’s done! Already submitting the big man!
TODD: But a submission wont stop the match! Oz will have his arm snapped in two before this thing is over!
After a few excruciating moments, Graves releases the hold, letting Oz collapse to the ground, clutching his shoulder. Graves rises, his eyes alight with malevolent intent as he circles Oz, almost toying with him. He takes his time, hitting a quick kick to the ribs before dragging Oz up to his feet, and punching him right in the arm that he just softened up.
Graves executes a flawless Northern Lights Suplex, slamming Oz down with impressive force and holding for a moment before rolling off, clearly enjoying every second of Oz’s struggle.
BAMA: That’s Graves all the way, Todd! Only a true Dark Warrior could command this kind of dominance!
Oz, clearly rattled, stumbles to his feet, but Graves isn’t done. He backs up, delivering a series of brutal heavy-handed backfists and chops that leave Oz reeling. With Oz stumbling, Graves grabs him by the arm, twisting it into another Fujiwara Armbar, this time applying pressure to further weaken his foe’s massive frame.
Oz roars in agony, but Graves cranks the armbar tighter, his face twisted in sadistic glee. Oz doesn’t even waste energy trying to tap this time, he just screams louder.
Gravy finally releases the hold and steps back, watching as Oz struggles to stand, barely able to keep his balance.
TODD: Flynn, or Graves, or whatever he’s calling himself, is absolutely dominating Oz now! He’s wearing him down like a true strategist!
BAMA: It’s Graves, Todd! Only a master would break down a god like this! Flynn doesn’t have the heart for this kind of war!
With Oz dazed, Graves smirks and sets him up for something big…
He lifts Oz from the armpits behind his back, holding him aloft for a moment before driving him down with GRAVE CONSEQUENCES!
The impact echoing through the tunnel.
Oz slumps, completely motionless, as Graves stands over him, victorious.
TODD: And that’s it! Flynn- I mean Graves- has taken Oz apart piece by piece and left him a broken mess on the floor!
BAMA: This is what Graves promised, Todd! He was here to break Oz, and by god, he did it, baby! A true lesson from the master himself!
With a look of satisfaction, Graves drags Oz’s limp body onto the nearby body cart, strapping him down before wheeling him toward the body chute.
With one last look down the chute, Graves shoves the cart over the edge, watching with satisfaction as Oz disappears into the darkness below.
WINNER: MICHEAL GRAVES
BAMA: Oz has taken his final ride, courtesy of the Dark Warrior! Graves didn’t just win- he made Oz a martyr for the revolution!
TODD: Call him what you want, Bama, but “Graves” has made his point tonight. Whether he’s the Dark Warrior or Mark Flynn, he’s solidified himself as a dominant force on Anarchoween.
As Graves raises his arms in triumph, basking in the eerie glow of the flickering lights, the camera cuts to another scene…
…Good lord, have you seen this fellow?
We find ourselves in the lavish office of “The Bashmaster” Barry Masterson, GM of Anarchy, who is mid-phone call, lounging in his chair with one leg propped up on his cluttered desk. A small television on his desk shows Graves’ victory replay, and Barry’s eyes are wide, his face flushed with admiration
The one on my television right now- muscles, grit, and just the right amount of that wild animal energy!
Most impressive… his voice lowering to a sultry purr, Got me feeling all tingly, if I may say so myself. Who is he? And how do I get him on Anarchy?
There’s a pause as the person on the other end of the line says something, and Barry’s eyebrows arch, his mouth curling in a delighted O-shape.
What’s that you say? He’s already my Anarchy champion?
Well, how perfectly delightful!
Why didn’t anyone tell me we had such a marvel on our roster?
This “Michael Graves” chap has raw power and… and, dare I say, a feral quality. The man’s like a wild stallion who’s only just realized he can’t be tamed!
Barry chuckles to himself, his fingers drumming against the desk in satisfaction as he leans back with a dreamy smile.
My, my, I must get him on Anarchy posthaste. And I don’t just mean a quick dalliance in the ring, no- Graves deserves the whole shebang. Yes, a headline spot, something truly…intimate. Unforgettable! We’ll make him the centerpiece! A full-frontal assault of wrestling glory!
There’s a muffled response from the phone, causing Barry to sit up straight, his eyes narrowing with intrigue.
Oh, I have plans, my friend. Big, throbbing plans for Mr. Graves on our next show.
This match takes place in the old morgue, complete with abandoned body racks and decaying medical instruments. The only way to win is to completely incapacitate your opponent.
Both men wait in the corners of the room staring a hole into one another.
BAMA: Ghouls and Goblins I hope you been enjoying Anarchoween cuz it’s coming to a climax tonight, baby!
TODD: The X-Treme Champion Johnny Bacchus, the Revolution Champion Matthias Syn, the X Title is on the line and this is going to be a bloodbath!
A ghost materializes in the room wearing a ref shirt and calls for the bell, both competitors are relatively spooked by this.
DING! DING!
Bacchus sprints from his corner towards Syn who quickly grabs a medical dolly by his side and kicks it ahead, barreling towards Bacchus who leapfrogs over it sneakily palming a utensil as he does but Syn was expecting the leap and goes for a high-angled superkick catching Bacchus under the jaw!
Johnny drops as Matthias quickly mounts Bacchus to drop a nasty forearm!
And again!
BAMA: Syn is tryna open up Bacchus, baby!
But as Syn reels her arm back for another hit, Johnny unpalms a scalpel and raises it to defend himself and the blade stabs into Matthias’ arm!
TODD: EW! That scalpel is sticking out of Matthias’ forearm!!!
Syn lets out a hiss of pain as he retracts and pulls the scalpel out with a spout of blood and the instrument clatters to the ground; Bacchus gets back to his feet and watches Syn’s movement as a sinister smile comes across the Revolution champs face.
Syn lunges for Bacchus who manages to get a knee up into Matthias’ face and knocks him back! The X-Treme Champion follows up with a Sparta Kick and knocks Syn into the row of morgue drawers behind him; the wind is knocked out of Syn as he connects and Bacchus is on him, pinning Syn’s shoulder with his left hand and throwing right after right into Matthias’ face!
BAMA: Bacchus given’ Matthias the receipt for those forearms!
TODD: But look at Syn! He’s laughing!
As right hook after right hook connects, Matthias laughs in Bacchus’ face as he nose bloodies! A final hit knocks a tooth loose and Syn sees red, his face contorting in anger, Matthias spits blood into Bacchus eyes who flinches and Syn takes advantage grabbing Bacchus by the collar and waist and rail-roading him into the steel hatch door headfirst!
Bacchus slumps to one knee as Syn marches over, opening the door and placing Bacchus’ head against the cold tile wall! Syn wraps his hand around the hatch door.
TODD: NO MATTHIAS DON’T DO IT!
Syn whips the door into Bacchus’ head producing an ungodly noise and Johnny drops to the ground.
BAMA: Matthias is a nasty man, Todd! No doubt ‘bout that!
Syn takes a moment looking down at the prone form of Bacchus and then to the ghostly referee who groans with a shake of his head.
TODD: The ref isn’t calling it!
BAMA: Course he’s not! He’s a ghost! I doubt he even has the correct credentials to be a referee in the XWF!
TODD: To be fair we rarely hire capable refs.
Matthias sneers, spitting blood on the ground and wiping his face clean as Johnny clings to life trying to turn around on the ground.
Syn’s eyes search the room and a smirk creeps onto his face.
Matthias grabs the back of Bacchus neck and plucks him to his feet carrying him over to an autopsy slab and throws Johnny’s body on top of it; Syn goes back to the medical dolly from before and throws it out the way rummaging through the utensils and grabbing a mallet!
Syn turns back!
BUT BACCHUS IS ALIVE!
TODD: SHOTGUN DROPKICK!
Syn is sent barreling across the room! He quickly steps up onto one knee as a desperate Bacchus closes in!
BAMA: THE BOTTOM OF EVERYTHING!
Running V-Trigger to Syn!
TODD: MISSES!
As Syn ducks under the knee and throws back with the mallet but Bachhus barely dodges out of the way!
Bacchus kicks the mallet out of Syn’s hand and goes for an enziguri as Matthias is still kneeling but Syn drops low once more and rolls to his belly before pushing himself up and going for an acrobatic backflip kick which barely grazes Bacchus’ chest!
Johnny is still up and runs in for a lariat which is dodged by Matthias and Syn gets to the X champ’s back but Bacchus throws an elbow back and knocks Syn away!
Bacchus turns!
Into a gut kick!
Syn latches on to his opponent!
TODD: SYNTHESIS!!
Syn looks for his reverse cutter!
BAMA: COUNTERED!!!
At the apex of the swing Bacchus ducks out of the hold and Syn turns in shock into!
TODD: SYNTHESIS!! AGAIN!!!
Bacchus lands Syn’s swinging reverse cutter!!!
Both men drop to the ground exhausted.
BAMA: Gotta say, sloppy cutter from Bacchus. Matthias’s is perfect.
TODD: I doubt Bacchus was looking to make it pretty, more just desperate.
Our competitors stay on the ground breathing heavily, Johnny sits up, the adrenaline fading he shakes his head to stop the ringing before looking to the ref who once again shakes his head.
Johnny gives the ghoul some well-deserved sass as he stands to wobbly feet.
Bacchus eyes the room until he lands on a pile of body bags in the corner, the ghost ref groans with a nod. Johnny hobbles over to the bags grabbing at one and gets jumpscared as a skeleton pops out!
TODD: OH FUCK!
But Bacchus punches the skeleton in the cranium and turns it into dust, remarking on how it's way too late to be pulling this type of shit now.
Johnny grabs a bag and brings it to the center of the room beside Matthias who is still unmoving.
Bacchus zips open the bag and grabs Syn’s arms.
BUT MATTHIAS WAS PLAYING POSSUM!
HE BRINGS BACCHUS DOWN!
BAMA: SYNTHEORY! SYNTHEORY!
Matthias has Bacchus dead to rights in an arm-trap triangle!
Bacchus is in a fit trying to escape, his boots scraping across the tile floor as Syn seethes. His bloodied face screaming at Bacchus as veins pop in his skull.
Johnny has nowhere to go, desperate claws at Matthias with his free arm do nothing!
Bacchus' movements fade as Syn drools blood in red hot anger, tightening as Bacchus’s body goes limper.
Bacchus free arm drops, the ref groans as it floats closer observing the two.
And finally…
The X-Treme Champion’s hand drops.
…
ONTO THE MALLET!
WHACK!
A single shot to the back of Syn’s head breaks the hold and Bacchus scrambles to his feet catching his breath.
Syn gets up drunkenly, clasping the back of his head!
Matthias roars in fury as he charges Bacchus!
Syn goes for a spear!
BUT JOHNNY BACCHUS CATCHES HIM WRAPPING BOTH ARMS AROUND SYN’S WAIST!
TODD: THE TRAGEDY AT BUFFALO!!!
Bacchus’ gutwrench piledriver lands with authority and Syn is down!
Johnny is gassed, and pushes Syn’s body onto the body bag.
He adjusts it and begins to zip it up!
The ref lets out a ghoulish snicker.
As Bacchus runs the zip past Matthias Syn’s face!
DING! DING! DING!
WINNER AND STILL X-TREME CHAMPION - JOHNNY BACCHUS!
TODD: What an incredible match we've just witnessed! Johnny Bacchus called his shot of a defense on Anarchy, and he put on one hell of show in the process!
BAMA: And now his chase for that elusive case is officially underway!
TODD: That's al lthe time we have tonight folks! See you back, hopefully in a regular arena, in two weeks time! Happy Halloween!
A special thanks to our match writers:
Mark Flynn
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