Open Battle Royal
Ari Silverstein - vs - Mini Morbid - vs - Latoya Hixx - vs - Ace Sky - vs - Razor Blade - vs - Clutch Cassidy - vs - Reggie Estrada - vs - Da Bing Bong Twinzz - vs - Jamaican Jimmy - vs - Liam Roberts - vs - Taco - vs - Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing - vs - The Grok - vs - Big D 1 RP 500 Words
Pyro explodes over The Hard Rock Stadium in Miami, where a raucous crowd has gathered to witness the first of three nights, of the biggest professional wrestling known to man: Relentless!
But before we’re introduced to the commentary team, or anyone else for that matter, the ring announcers voice comes over the loudspeaker:
“Laides and Gentlemen… please welcome Miami's own:
Gloria Estefan and The Miami Sound Machine!”
The camera moves to the top of the stage where the crowd is treated to a retro showcase
JC:What an incredible performance, Brody Goodman!
BG: Feels like I just stepped out of a time machine, Jackie. Gloria Estefan sounds great, looks great, and the rhythm has definitely ‘got me’, baby!”
JC: Well, we’re here in beautiful South Florida, the kickoff for what has got to be one of the most highly anticipated professional wrestling events in recent memory. The Grand Daddy of them all, RELENTLESS!
BG: Night one of our three night spectacular, and I’m on the edge of my seat.
JC: Kicking off night one, we have some incredible contests:
The XWF Revolution Championship is on the line…
The XWF Tag Team Championships are on the line…
A Triple threat to determine the new #1 contender to the Anarchy title
And in our main event, a highly anticipated Television Championship contest between of the top competitors in the XWF today…
And that’s all coming up here tonight!
But first…we have a special Battle Royal to open our show!
A match full of not only returning stars from the past, but new stars, all looking to secure their names in the history books by picking up a victory at Relentless!
[white]JC: Welcome, XWF fans! To RELENTLESS WEEKEND! This is set to be the biggest weekend in all of wrestling! We have an incredible show for you, and we are kicking things off with the most chaotic match of the whole weekend!
BG: Jacko, this ring’s about to be filled with more maniacs than a dozen insane asylums! And they all want their Relentless moment! Who will secure it? The upstart rookie from the world of racing, Clutch Cassidy? The debuting world champion and mixed martial artist, Ace Sky? Will Liam Roberts secure his first win in over two years? Will Big D, former XWF World Champion win dominantly and begin his climb back to the upper echelons of the XWF? Or will Reggie Estrada pull off yet another shocking upset?
JC: Razor and Latoya are also dark-hose candidates to pull off the victory tonight! The Grok, representing the Corporation, would love to secure a win! Mini Morbid might be too small to go over the top rope at all, that could significantly work in his favor! And you could say the same for Taco, as a teacup piglet!
BG: This match is too big to cover every competitor, they’re already heading to the ring en masse!
The camera moves to the ramp where the competitors for tonight’s battle royal are seen making their way to the ring.
Jamaican Jimmy is moving and grooving his way to the ring, followed shortly thereafter by Ari Silverstein who is walking his follow opponent, Taco, the good boy, down to the ring on a leash.
As those three get between the ropes, they notice that Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing has already made a place for himself at the back of ringside. He has a small net setup, and is playing one-man badminton. Popping the birdie into the air, and rolling under the net just in time to whack it again with his racket. It’s actually fairly impressive.
Mini Morbid rides a miniature limousine to the ring, a very long, but very low-to-the-ground limousine…
The Grok is using his advanced gyronetic enhancements to raise and lower his eyebrow.
Ari Silverstein is using this unique opportunity with all these competitors in the ring to hand out the mail they’ve let accumulate over the years.
Da Bing Bong Twinzz look at the letters they were just handed skeptically… There’s a high chance as Gen Z-ers they’ve never seen a letter before… and a non-zero chance they can’t read.
Ace Sky waves to the people, as the crowd chants his name, excited to see the debut of a former world champion AND former mixed martial arts champion!
Latoya and Razor step through the ropes, looking confident, like they’re about to tear through these jokers… Until they see Reggie Estrada, the man who upset them in a handicap match… They both fume furiously at Estrada… who smiles ear-to-ear and wraps his hands around his throat, much to the delight of the crowd…
Liam Roberts seems bemused at how many in the crowd are excited to see his return… He waves with a smile, pointing at a few “GO LIAM” signs… until he sees one that says “LIAM, WIN THIS MATCH AND I’LL BLOW YOU”... and he grimaces, immediately seeing it’s Savannah Knightley holding the sign.
She flips the sign “OR IF YOU LOSE, WHATEVZ” …Liam sighs, before trying to get his head back on straight for the match.
Big D, FORMER XWF WORLD CHAMPION, raises his fists and the crowd roars, delighted for his return…
And, revving her ‘engine’ like a racecar at the starting line… Clutch Cassidy’s eyes eagerly dart from competitor to competitor in the ring, like she’s looking for the best way to smash as many opponents as possible in a demolition derby.
BG: Jacko? It ever dawn on you we work with a pretty kooky cast of characters?
JC: Just about every day, Brody.
After the official breaks out an attendance chart and calls everyone’s name to verify they’re present and accounted for, the bell rings!
Open Battle Royal
Ari Silverstein - vs - Mini Morbid - vs - Latoya Hixx - vs - Ace Sky - vs - Razor Blade - vs - Clutch Cassidy - vs - Reggie Estrada - vs - Da Bing Bong Twinzz - vs - Jamaican Jimmy - vs - Liam Roberts - vs - Taco - vs - Sir Lionel Pennyfarthing - vs - The Grok - vs - Big D 1 RP 500 Words
The MOMENT the bell rings, pandemonium IMPLODES.
The bell rings and instant pandemonium erupts.
Anyone who charges NEAR Razor and Latoya’s corner, Hixx roars like a hulked-out banshee, flexing her arms while everyone else stares nervously at her…
Mini Morbid immediately starts climbing the ropes like a squirrel, screaming obscenities at the audience. Razor Blade is already red in the face, shouting at Ace Sky for “acntig to smrt.”
JC: Did Razor just typo while speaking?
Taco the piglet snorts, booping Liam Roberts’ ankle with his soft piggie nose, while Clutch Cassidy revs an imaginary steering wheel, circling her opponents like a stock car, delivering wild clotheslines and elbows, dropping fools left and right!
BG: …This is fuckin’ nuts. Even for the XWF, this is… this is crazy. Some of these jokers gotta go!
In one corner, Jamaican Jimmy is going for the top rope early!
…Wait, disregard, he’s setting up a hammock.
JJ gets comfy, setting his feet up on the turnbuckle strumming an air ukulele while humming “One love, mon!”
BG: …I don’t think you could come at a match with a worse strategy than lying in a hammock on the same vertical plane as the top rope!
The Grok stomps over with a robotic glare…
Jimmy drops his own shades, taps them and then points at the Grok’s shades… then gives him a shaka, like ‘heeeeey, Shades bros…’
…Grok puts his hand under the hammock… and shoves Jimmy out and over the top rope! Jimmy crash-lands outside in a heap…
ELIMINATED: JAMAICAN JIMMY
As Liam Roberts and Ace Sky trade blows… and Big D charges into Clutch Cassidy, trying to put the brakes on the joyride… Ari carefully sidesteps through the action, still trying to distribute mail to the talent..
JC: Ari, buddy, not the time right now…
”Sir Lionel? Your new headshots are here…” Sir Lionel drops his one-man badminton routine to scoop his new phots…
”Uhhh… Razor?” Ari looks around, and sees the corner where Latoya and Razor have declared their territory… Ari flips through his letters…
”Bills, bills, bills….” Ari begins stacking Razor’s bills high…
…Razor is furious. HE AIN’T PAYING THOSE.
Razor scoops Ari into his arms! FALLAWAY SLAM OVER THE TOP ROPE! LETTERS GO EVERYWHERE!
ELIMINATED: ARI SILVERSTEIN
Taco continues to run around the ring like a wild lil’ piggie… until Mini-Morbid climbs down from the ropes… and leaps onto his back like a horse!
BG: We may be about to see some mini solidarity here! The two smallest competitors in the ring are joining forces?!?
JC: I don’t think so, Brody! It looks like Taco is not a fan of being ridden!
Indeed, little Taco bucks wildly, trying to get Mini-Morbid off… but MM hangs on like a miniature rodeo star!
Taco decides enough is enough! He leaps with incredible over the top rope!
BG: Gasp! Taco is eliminating himself trying to take out Mini-Morbid!
Taco goes over! And lands outside…
…But Mini-Morbid clings on!
ELIMINATED: TACO
JC: The gambit fails! Taco is out!
BG: Eh… I think he really only wanted to take out Ham Sandwich… and he got banned from his match for his ham being expired.
A Big D shoulder blocker bounces Clutch backwards into Sir Lionel’s badminton!
”What ho!” Sir Lionel declares in a jovial fashion! ”Come to play the king’s game!”
Sir Lionel hands Clutch a racquet… Clutch shrugs, hopping on the other side of the net..
Sir Lionel to serve… WHACK!
JC: Great serve! That shuttlecock is flying!
BG: Jesus, Jacko, watch your language, this is a family bloodsport!
Clutch nimbly gives it a wack, back over the net… deep!
Sir Lionel’s eyes widen! He jogs backwards to return the shot…
…Unfortunately, he’s so focused badminton he doesn’t realize he’s charging toward the ropes…
And slams into the top rope, toppling himself up and over, to the outside!
ELIMINATED: SIR LIONEL PENNYFARTHING
JC: Did Lionel just eliminate himself trying to play badminton?
BG: I think Clutch gets the credit for that elimination!
Meanwhile, the Bing Bong Twinzz try to “vibe check” Ace Sky, dancing around him and chanting something about “rizz levels over 9000.” Ace swings with a punch… and a kick… but the youthful goofballs are too quick!
…Ace scratches his head. Just as Latoya backs into both Twinzz.
MC C-Munqqquee looks up at the gargantuan Latoya puzzled. ”What the sigma?” Li'l Ca$h-App joins his twin brother. ”Chat, skibidi rizz.”
…Latoya looks at these two with utter confoundment.
JC: I don’t Latoya can tell they’re speaking English…
BG: Wait… THAT’S english?!?
Ace’s face lights up. He waves Latoya, offering to translate.
Latoya leans down…
…
And her face turns red with rage. She springs forward with a…
DOUBLE DROPKICK double dropkick that nails both Twinzz at once. They land tangled in each other’s hair and neon shorts, topple backward over the top rope in synchronized fashion!
ELIMINATED: DA BING BONG TWINZZ
JC: I think Ace Sky implied the Twinzz said something *very* rude about Latoya!
BG: That’s that 190 IQ at work! Incredible tactics by Ace Sky!
The action continues explosively! The chaos simmers into frantic clusters of fights. Mini Morbid is biting Big D’s ear like a rabid gremlin. Clutch Cassidy is running the ropes in endless circles, pretending to drift around turns. Liam Roberts is in the corner, trading punches with Reggie Estrada
The Grok steps forward… running into Ace Sky.
The two staredown.
”YOU SMELL WHAT THE GROK IS COMPUTIN’?!?”
Ace, calm but smirking, adjusts his taped fists like a seasoned martial artist. ”Computations don’t smell.”
The Grok charges like a runaway Tesla, fist raised!
But Ace sidesteps at the last moment, sending Grok barreling chest-first into the corner post.
Sparks literally shoot from Grok’s joints.
JC: Oh dear! Major mechanical failure by the Grok!
BG: Clutch may be a racer, but I think Grok needs a pitstop!
Grok sputters and fizzes beside the ropes…
As Ace charges forward with a perfect dropkick to the Grok’s head—the impact jars the machine over the ropes! The cyborg clatters to the floor, glitching!
ELIMINATED: THE GROK
JC: Ace Sky just dumped out The Grok! Elon’s not gonna be happy about that one!
Liam takes control against Reggie, stomping him down into the corner…
However, Liam doesn’t notice the American Storm brewing behind him…
Razor spins Roberts around… TANDEM BACK BODY DROP! And Liam flies through the air, landing on his back, center of the ring!
…Reggie pulls himself up exhaustedly… As Razor draws a thumb across his throat and points at Estrada.
JC: Oh dear! American Storm is looking for vengeance tonight against Reggie! He’s gotten them twice before! Can they even the score tonight?
…Reggie shoves out of the corner…
Razor targets him with a lariat! Reggie ducks under, diving forward with a headbutt that catches Latoya in the chest…
Reggie spins around… Razor scoops him up and gives him an atomic drop!
Latoya, furious, charges at Reggie from behind!
…Reggie drops to one knee from Razor’s attack!
And Latoya clotheslines Razor!
Razor goes up and over the top rope! Latoya’s eyes widen in horror, thinking she’s just eliminated her teammate…
But RAZOR HANGS ON! He finds a way to keep his footing on the apron…
Latoya breathes a sigh of relief… But Razor barks insult for her mistake! Immediately, Latoya gets hot, yelling back…
Giving Reggie a window to…
DROPKICK Latoya’s back!
Latoya scrambles forward into Razor…
AND THEY BOTH GO OVER THE TOP ROPE!
ELIMINATED: LATOYA HIXX AND RAZOR BLADE
The crowd is now buzzing: Reggie Estrada just pulled off the double shocker, eliminating Latoya Hixx and Razor Blade back-to-back!
Reggie leans over the ropes, deliver the choke at both members of American Storm, who are furious! Both at Reggie and each othe, arguing as they head back up the ramp!
JC: And we’re down to six! Ace Sky, Big D, Liam Roberts, Reggie Estrada, Clutch Cassidy, and Mini-Morbid!
Mini-Morbid delivers a mini-dropkick to Reggie’s ankle that drops the wildcard to his back like a fallen redwood.
…Suddenly, the ring clears… and it’s Mini-Morbid standing across…
From Big D!
Mini-Morbid raises the roof like he’s going to throw Big D over the top rope!
He runs up grabbing D by the ankle, heaving with all his might to get Big D up off his feet!
…
Ineffective.
Mini Morbid decides to change tact, bouncing off the ropes like a maniac, screams at anyone who looks his way: “I’M THE BIGGEST LITTLE GUY HERE!”
He charges at Big D, claws flailing, yelling insults that only make sense to himself.
Big D chuckles, grabbing Mini Morbid by the waist, and lifts him like a child over his shoulders.
Mini flails desperately, kicking and screaming, trying to wiggle free. But Big D plants his feet, mutters under his breath, and heaves Mini Morbid over the top rope with a thunderous grunt. Mini squeals midair, does a tiny flip, and crashes to the floor outside. The little wild card is gone.
ELIMINATED: MINI MORBID
JC: And then there were five!
Clutch Cassidy charges Big D with a flying shoulder, revving like a car taking a turn too fast. Big D sidesteps, and Cassidy spins past, nearly colliding with Reggie Estrada. Reggie ducks, sidesteps again, and fires a sneaky leg sweep at Ace Sky—but Ace leaps over him effortlessly, landing gracefully on the opposite side.
Liam, seeing an opening, tries to grab Cassidy from behind, but Cassidy spins and shoves him into the ropes. Liam bounces back like a pinball, almost colliding with Big D, who merely glances at him and flexes. Liam flinches, realizing he’s already part of the ring’s brutal rhythm.
JC: Things are finally starting to settle here… we’re down to our final five and all of these competitors want the win *desperately*!
Reggie tries to grapple Ace from behind, but Ace lands a crisp spinning back kick that catches Reggie off guard, sending him staggering. The crowd pops—Ace is on fire. Big D charges in next, but Ace is already flowing, sliding under a Big D haymaker and springboarding off the ropes with a perfect flying knee that catches Big D square in the chest. The veteran staggers back, eyes wide.
JC: Ace is building momentum! Could we see the world champion secure the win in his debut?!?
Reggie charges at Ace… but in one leap, Ace hops to the top rope, and launches into a high-flying corkscrew moonsault, hitting Reggie with surgical precision! Reggie tumbles back, clutching his ribs, nearly over the ropes…
BUT HE CLINGS ONTO THE APRON!
Clutch delivers a forearm to the back of Liam Roberts’ head… and sees Ace running circles around the competition. Clutch races his way, locking for a running lariat…
But Ace ducks it, delivers a blistering combination of kicks and forearms! Cassidy gets driven back into the corner!
JC: This match has become the Ace Sky show!
Ace sees Liam Roberts, breathing besides the ropes recovering… He calls for a big boot! He charges!
…But Liam… times it perfectly!
He pulls down the top rope!
AND ACE SKY GOES UP AND OVER! He tries to catch himself on the top rope…
But his hand slips and he spills to the outside!
ELIMINATED: ACE SKY
JC: WHAT A SHOCKER! Liam Roberts just eliminated Ace Sky!
BG: Ace Sky was becoming my favorite to go all the way… What a shockingly brilliant counter by Liam Roberts!
…Clutch drops to the middle turnbuckle in the corner, recovering…
Liam hangs near the ropes, assessing the scene, waiting for another moment to strike…
Meanwhile, in the center of the ring, Big D and Reggie circle each other warily. The veteran lashes out with a crushing clothesline, but Reggie ducks under, agile as ever, and fires back with a series of precision strikes. Big D swings again, and Reggie slips behind him, hooking him in a sudden headlock.
JC: We’ve seen it all year, folks! Reggie Estrada snatching victory with a brilliant comeback sequence from out of nowhere!
BG: But he’s in there with a former XWF World Champion, Jacko! You can’t catch Big D off-guard! He’s always on-guard!
Reggie drags D toward the ropes, trying to drag him over… but D slips out! And Reggie’s back is to the ropes! D charges!
…But Reggie low-bridges!
D goes over!
…BUT HE HANGS ON!
The arena breathes a sigh of relief as D pulls himself onto the apron and back through the ropes…
Unfortunately, for Reggie, he’s already doing the choking gesture…
JC: Estrada celebrating too soon, I’m afraid…
Reggie looks confused… The front row that usually does the choke with him is instead pointing behind him…
He spins around…
AND BIG D SCOOPS HIM INTO THE AIR BY HIS THROAT!
AND CHOKESLAMS HIM UP AND OVER ONTO THE PADDED CONCRETE OUTSIDE!
Eliminated: Reggie Estrada
JC: AND WE’RE DOWN TO THREE! Big D! Liam Roberts! Clutch Cassidy!
Big D soaks in the applause of the XWF Universe as they chant…
YOU STILL GOT IT! *clap clap clapclapclap*
YOU STILL GOT IT! *clap clap clapclapclap*
Big D raises a fist to the fans… but Clutch speeds out of the corner, catching D with a fist to the fact…
Big D fires heavy haymakers; Clutch ducks, weaving like a racer through traffic. Cassidy rebounds off the ropes with a spinning forearm that rattles Big D—but before Clutch can follow-up, Big D catches her under the arms, tossing herinto the corner. Clutch bounces off, and comes charging again. The crowd is on the edge of their seats as the veteran and the high-speed dynamo brawl mid-ring!
JC: The way Big D and Clutch are going at it… It’s almost like they forgot about Liam!
Indeed, D and Clutch are throwing everything they have at each other as Roberts takes a knee by the ropes, evaluating the scene…
D and Clutch grapple, jockeying for control… dangerously close to the ropes.
Liam’s eyes widen. This is it—the perfect moment.
With a deep breath, Liam springs forward, leaping like he’s in a slow-motion action scene, arms outstretched, trying to push both over the top rope at the same time.
JC: NO WAY! LIAM ROBERTS MAKES HIS MOVE! LIAM ROBERTS WINS!
The crowd gasps. It looks impossible.
D and Clutch both go over the ropes...
But somehow…
BOTH SURVIVE. Big D plants his feet, grabs Clutch’s wrist mid-push, and they both wobble on the apron, but remain upright.
JC: Er, sorry, folks, if you listen to the audio alone, slight correction: Liam Roberts has not won the Open Battle Royal.
BG: Someone tell Liam that.
Liam, convinced he just pulled off the ultimate upset, collapses to his knees in celebration, pumping his fists, chest heaving. “I DID IT! I DID IT!” he screams like he’s won the Super Bowl.
Big D and Clutch climbs through the ropes, exchanging a glance—then silently nod. Two minds, one plan.
Liam points to the Relentless sign hanging in the rafters, before turning around to celebrate with the other side of the arena… They charge forward together with a perfectly timed double clothesline, hitting Liam square in the chest. He’s flung over the top rope in dramatic slow-motion, limbs flailing, crashing to the floor outside!
Eliminated: Liam Roberts
JC: Welp, an above-average performance by Liam Roberts! He still eliminated Ace Sky!
Liam sits up outside the ring, blinking, realizing his brief glory was snatched away in an instant.
BG: And then, there were two! Big D and Clutch Cassidy!
…The two breathe heavily, before looking over at their last obstacle from victory.
They both nod at each other out of respect for making it this far… before charging in!
Big D lashes out with heavy haymakers, each one thudding against Clutch’s side like hammers. Clutch ducks, weaves, and fires back with lightning-fast forearms, landing sharp blows across Big D’s shoulders. She spins off the ropes, bouncing like a stock car around a tight turn, and lands a spinning kick that sends Big D staggering backward.
JC: Two very different styles here… Big D is a powerhouse, Clutch is a speed demon!
BG: It’s a tale as old as time! Can Clutch chip away at Big D *and* dodge those powerful strikes? Just one well-timed, perfectly-executed attacked from Big D could spell out the end for Cassidy!
Big D recovers quickly, charging like a juggernaut. He grabs Clutch mid-strike, hurling him across the ring with a crushing fallaway slam!
Clutch rolls like a person rolling out of a moving car, not undamaged, but quickly rising to her feet! The crowd roars at the sheer athleticism.
BG: Gotta say this about Clutch, it’s been a long fight and she’s still moving like her gas tank’s full!
Big D turns around, thinking he’ll picking what’s left of his opponent off the mat… But Clutch is coming at him at top-speed!
Clutch hits a flurry of strikes, jabs, and elbow combos, dropping Big D to one knee! Clutch points to the top rope!
JC: What’s Clutch gonna do from there? Cars can’t fly!
Clutch grabs the top rope and leaps with a single bound to the top rope—she flying off with a corkscrew splash!
…But Big D goes ‘nope’ and side-steps out of the way.
JC: They call it the high-risk district for a reason, Brody! Clutch crashes and burns!
Big D smirks through gritted teeth, gripping Clutch by the hair and going to use his superior power to manhandle her over the top rope!
Clutch’s feet leave the met… her back bends against the top rope!
JC: This is like watching a driver hit the accelerator on a car that’s dangling off a cliffside!
Clutch dangles over the top ropes now… D trying to force her the rest of the way over!
…
But Clutch clings onto D’s massive arm like a life preserver, wrapping her legs around it, clinging as she dangles backward over the padded concrete!
JC: CLUTCH CLUTCHES ON FOR DEAR LIFE!
Big D grumbles impatiently, in disbelief she’s still hanging on! He draws his head over the top rope to get additional leverage to shake her off…
Clutch sees the opening. She shifts her legs to wrap around Big D’s neck…
And head scissors takedown!
Big D goes over…
…
AND LANDS OUTSIDE!
Eliminated: Big D
WINNER: CLUTCH CASSIDY
JC: WOW! What a war! What an impressive showing from many of these competitors and… moderately humorous ones from the others!
BG: What a field! You had World Champions from the XWF, world champions from the industry in this match… and the rookie! The darkhorse from the racing world, Clutch Cassidy pulls out a CLUTCH performance and secures the win!
BAMA: Oh baby, Relentless Night One and we got our first Anarchy match of the whole shabang!
TODD: That’s right BAMA, and what a way to kick things off for the Anarchy brand! The Revolution championship is on the line with XWF mainstay Thunder Knuckles facing off against the enigmatic newcomer XXXVI!
BAMA: I never did understand roman numerals but I like the cut of this guy’s jib anyway!
TODD: How can you tell? He’s wearing a mask! Anyway, the run up to this one has been very interesting, featuring an uncharacteristically quiet Thunder Knuckles…
BAMA: Ah, he was just too busy pumping iron and slamming back hooch!
TODD: ….and a very game challenger!
BAMA: It looks like we’re about to kick things off, Toddy!
Full black.
The stage alights in red. Smoke gathers around the stage. Gods by Sleep Token plays as XXXVI appears, rising up out of the red lights amidst the smoke, his hands gathered in prayer. He steps out onto the stage and takes in the mixed reaction from the crowd. He shakes his out his head and shoulders and begins to walk down the ramp, hands still in prayer pose. Then from behind him, appears CIX. She follows him down the ramp. Half way down, he spreads his hands apart and reaches out both arms in T-Pose as he crouches, sauntering down the rest of the ramp toward the ring. He climbs onto the apron, outstretches his arms and then enters, rolling backward over the top rope and spins toward the center of the ring, arms outstretched like a helicopter. He then sits, cross legged in the dead center of the ring, hands once again in prayer pose and bows his head. Full black again, then a single, red cone of light bathes him in the ring as fire explodes out of each turnbuckle. Outside the ring, CIX surveys the crowd as they await the match starting.
Twenty pint-sized midgets line the entrance ramp, each gripping a pair of sparklers like tiny torches, holding them high in tribute to the man who is about to come to the ring. The lights turn off and the only light is sparks of the sparklers.
Through the smoke steps Thunder Knuckles, the Revolution Championship slung over his shoulder, Half the of the Anarchy Tag Team Tiltes around his waist, shining under the sparks like stolen treasures. His smirk isn’t just arrogant, it’s insulting. He bobs his head to the beat, not because he’s feeling the music, but because he knows he is the music.
The crowd boos, so he slows down just to make them wait, sauntering past the midgets. He doesn’t even glance at them. Why would he? They’re here for him.
Sliding into the ring, he springs to his feet in one smooth move, back turned to the camera on purpose, because he knows the shot is better without seeing his face. He raises his right fist high, not as a salute, but as a statement to everyone in the back.
And then it happens, like a final insult, counterfeit XBUX rain from the rafters, every one of them plastered with his smug grin. The crowd tears into each other for the fake money while TK stands perfectly still, basking in the madness that he’s caused.
The bell rings signalling the match is underway. TK and the masked man start circling each other, sizing each other up. Then, as the tension is building, TK suddenly stops and flips XXXVI off! But XXXVI doesn’t take the bait. Instead he too stops and waggles a finger at the champion. TK grabs his crotch and invites the challenger to suck it. You can almost see the resigned sigh beneath the mask as XXXVI goes in for a lock up. TK permits it, but is suddenly stunned by the challengers speed as he hits a standing switch into a german suplex!
TODD: And the challenger draws first blood here tonight!
BAMA: TK’s gonna have to contend with XXXVI’s speed here tonight for sure!
TK gets dumped on his back, but recovers quickly, picking himself up with the ropes and jawing the challenger the whole time. XXXVI moves in again but this time TK is ready, hitting a low angle dropkick to the challengers knee as a counter. XXXVI hits the canvas, grabs his knee and rolls out of the ring. But Thunder Knuckles stays on him, splashing him with a tope suicida!
BAMA: Who said Thunder Knuckles couldn’t fly?!
Both men collapse to the floor, but the champ is up first, grabbing XXXVI up and tossing him into the ring steps as the ref starts to count them out.
1….
2….
TK waves off the ref’s count disdainfully as he grapples XXXVI up again, scoop slamming him onto the floor!
TODD: Don’t get counted out champ!
3….
4….
5….
Finally, TK rolls his opponent back under the bottom rope and goes for a cover!
1….
2…..NO! XXXVI kicks out!
XXXVI shoves the champ off of him and gets to his feet. But as he does so TK clubs him from behind. The challenger goes to the ropes and TK rushes him, but XXXVI back body drops TK over the top rope!
But TK deftly lands on the ring apron. He takes a swing at XXXVI. The masked man blocks and kicks TK to the floor! XXXVI then scales to the top turbnbuckle with ease, waits for TK to stand up, and executes a picture perfect moonsault to the outside! He nails the champion and lands on his feet, throwing a fist in the air triumphantly! The ref starts a count down yet again!
BAMA: And out they go again!
TODD: An odd start to the match for sure, and quite possibly one that’s going to reduce both competitors mileage in this match.
1…..
2….
XXXVI takes hold of Thunder Knuckles and hits a german suplex on him to the floor. TK barks out a cuss as he hits the mat!
3….
4….
5….
6….
The masked man then throws TK under the bottom rope. TK keeps rolling into a netral corner and slowly picks himself up as XXXVI reenters the ring. He goes to hit a diving double axe handle on the masked man, but the challenger dodges, kips up, grabs TK and hits a quick snap DDT on him! He covers!
1…..
2…..NOPE! TK kicks out!
TODD: The champ showing his characteristic resilience here.
BAMA: And he’s gonna need all of it. XXXVI ain’t lettin’ up!
XXXVI wastes no time, getting back to his feet and sizing TK up. He goes for a super kick on TK…..but it’s countered! TK wraps XXXVI’s ankle up in an ankle lock! But the challenger is too close to the ropes and he wraps an arm around the bottom rope! TK tries to wrench him off the ropes and the ref challenges TK to release the hold. TK tells the ref to “fuck off” but just as he does that, XXXVI kicks him away and gets to his feet. TK moves in and finally eats a super kick! XXXVI covers again!
BAMA: OH! Finally got ‘em!
1….
2….
3….NOOO! TK barely rolls a shoulder up!
The champ looks genuinely dazed by that kick and the challenger stays on him, hitting a quick scoop slam on TK in the center of the ring before climbing to the top rope and taking flight with a frog splash!! He covers TK yet again after the impact!
1….
2…..
3……..NOOOOOO! TK rolls a shoulder up again!
TODD: Thunder Knuckles surviving a series of pinfall attempts here, BAMA!
BAMA: It’s uncanny how much punishment this man can take!
TODD: But it can’t last forever. Thunder Knuckles has to right this ship if he wants to retain his title here tonight!
XXXVI looks up plaintively at the ref (or at least we can assume so) for confirmation and the ref repeats his call! XXXVI then grabs TK by the head and whips him into the corner! The challenger builds up a head of steam and runs at him, but in a last second desperation counter TK moves away and drop toe holds XXXVI’s face into the turnbuckle! The challengers head snaps back! TK shakes out the cobwebs, pulls XXXVI away from the ropes and covers him!
1….
2….
3……..NOPE! XXXVI kicks out!
BAMA: Another near fall but TK is back in control.
TK, weary and angry, slaps his hands together three times in the refs face before returning his attention to his opponent. He hefts XXXVI up and plants him with a full nelson slam! He then picks up his opponent and hangs him in the corner tree of woe style before unleashing a series of brutal stomps on his face and chest! XXXVI slumps to the canvas and TK takes a tour around the ring, shaking off the rust and smirking at the fans. When he finally returns his attention to XXXVI the other is on his feet but hunched, over, clearly feeling the effects of the stomps. TK locks up with him, overpowering him and sending him into the ropes! He goes for a haymaker when XXXVI runs back, but the challenger ducks under and hits a desperation pele kick to the back of TK’s head!!
XXXVI dives on him for the cover!
1….
2….
3….NOOOOOO! TK was too close to the ropes this time and he put a boot on the bottom rope!
TODD: Oh my God! A desperation rope break from the champ!
BAMA: That pele kick came from out of nowhere! Deadly! Absolutely deadly!
XXXVI recovers from his frustration quickly, pulling TK to the center of the ring before climbing to the top turnbuckle once more! XXXVI takes flight, going for THE FINAL COUNTDOWN……
……BUT TK ROLLS OUT OF THE WAY JUST IN TIME! THE CHALLENGER CRASHES AND BURNS! Tk drapes an arm over him!
BAMA: OH NO! This could be the deciding factor in this match!
TODD: You’re right, Bama! XXXVI went high rent again and it bit him this time!
1….
2…..
3…..NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! XXXVI defiantly throws Thunder Knuckles’ arm off of him!
BAMA: HOLY HELL!
TODD: I have no idea how XXXVI is still doing it!
Both men stay down for a couple minutes, breathing heavy as the crowd roars. CIX slaps the canvas, shouting at XXXVI to rally!
Finally, the champion slowly pulls himself to his feet in the corner, muttering and cursing as he gestures for XXXVI to get up! XXXVI finally gets to his own feet. TK charges at him, looking like he’s intent on a lariat…..but XXXVI counters! He nails TK in the gut with a kick! XXXVI then backs up for another superkick….which connects!!! TK goes down, giving XXXVI some time to breathe before rushing for the turnbuckle and again climbing it!
HE GOES FOR THE FINAL COUNTDOWN AGAIN!!!!!
IT CONNECTS!!!!
TODD: OH MY GOD! HE HIT IT! HE HIT IT!
TK’s body bucks as the legdrop lands across his face!! Then, with the crowd cheering him on, XXXVI goes for the cover!
1….
2…..
…….3!!!!! FINALLY, HE’S DONE IT!!!
WINNER - AND NEW XWF REVOLUTION CHAMPION - XXXVI
BAMA: WHAT DID WE JUST WITNESS?!
TODD: No disrespect to XXXVI but that may have been one of the biggest upsets we’ve seen in the XWF in quite some time. Folks, we have a new Revolution champion!!!
BAMA: I don’t think upset quite covers it, TODD. XXXVI just knocked off a former Universal Champion and current double champion! Think of the bragging rights he just earned!
“Gods” by Sleep Token hits as CIX climbs into the ring to celebrate with the newly crowned champion!
TODD: And to think things have barely begun for Relentless here tonight! Stay tuned folks, we got plenty more action coming down the pike!
JC: It’s time for our next contest, Brody. The first of three contests of the course this weekend that will involve our current Tag Team Champions… Sebastian Everett-Bryce and Isiah King: The Exiles.
BG: Tonight they defend the tag team titles, tomorrow night they defend the honor of the XWF against PWV, and on night three, these two best-frenemies square off one on one for what should be a colossal encounter between two of the very best in the wrestling industry today.
JC: That is one heck of a gauntlet to try and run, but if there’s one duo who might be able to accomplish it, it’s these two. But first, they have to get by one of the hottest tag teams in wrestling today. The revitalized Tribe led by the legendary Aidan ‘Blizzard’ Collins and the son of the legendary Crimson Kline, the man making a case for Rookie of the Year, Solomon Kline.
BG: And here they come, Jackie. A team as formidable as any we’ve seen in the XWF this year.
JC: The Tribe won this opportunity after a grueling contendership match, and tonight they look to put that experience to the test against The Exiles.
Solomon and Adian make their way to the ring, wearing matching Tribe t-shirts. They slap hands with the fans on their way down the ramp. They each climb into the ring and raise their fists in the air as the crowd roars in approval.
“Martin had a dream…”
The beat drops like a hammer as the crowd goes wild. The stans in the stands bop up and down to the iconic Sweatpants beat while rapping along to Kendrick’s Backseat Freestyle verse. The mashup highlights both how similar and dysfunctional this pairing is.
White-hot strobes flash, timed perfectly to every thump of the bass. There’s no warm up, The Exiles are approaching and everyone knows it.
“All my life, I want money and power
Respect my mind or die from lead shower”
The screen glitches to life, a black background with a grey logo and some words:
“The Exiles
Not a choice, a sentence.”
Two spotlights snap on from opposite ends of the stage, on the left: Sebastian Everett-Bryce, dressed in a long black coat. His chin tilts upwards slightly, a wry smile pasted on it - hiding his disdain for this situation. He adjusts the arms on his coat mid-stride, as he makes his way down to the ring. The shining tag-belt glimmers from his waist.
On the right: Isaiah King, no cape or theatrics, simply a weathethered grey leather jacket over some wrestling tights and boxing boots. He glances at the name on the screen and shows visible disgust, he carries the tag belt by the strap.
“Gadamn I feel amazin’”
They converge halfway down the way but don’t acknowledge each other, not a glance or a nod.
The crowd’s noise is deafening - divided and rowdy. Some bounce to the beat, others boo like they’re watching two egos that deserve to eat each other alive.
BG: I used to say that these two are making a mockery of the tag team division, and maybe I still agree with that, but it’s hard to deny just how impressive they are.
JC: Hard to deny it for sure. After quickly losing the tag titles to the black rainbow, SEB and King proved that they could fight back, recapturing the gold at Leap of Faith, and this, their first defense since that great match, SEB and Isaiah have the opportunity to prove that once again, their unique nature of being at odds with one another is a good enough to win as a team
As the two get to the ring, Isaiah slides through the bottom ropes while SEB makes his way to the stairs for a more graceful entry. They both make their way to the centre of the ring, faces cracking at the discomfort before shifting to accommodate the other.
Isaiah lifts the belt up into the air while Sebastian spreads his coat to draw attention to the other half as their theme slowly comes to a quiet.
The bell sounds and the arena instantly swells with electricity. Aidan Collins and Sebastian Everett-Bryce circle, the history of two proud veterans written across their faces. SEB wears that smug, knowing smirk, rolling his shoulders like this is just another night at the office. Aidan, all intensity, eyes narrowed, jaw clenched, determined to prove that his Tribe is more than hype.
They lock up. The first test of strength ends in a stalemate until Aidan muscles SEB into the corner. Clean break—no, Aidan chops the chest so hard SEB’s teeth clack together. The sound cracks through the arena. Another chop. Another. The crowd “WOOOs” as Aidan lights up the champ. SEB stumbles out, clutching his chest, and Aidan charges with a running knee into the corner. SEB collapses to a seat.
JC: Collins is starting this like he’s got something to prove!
BG: And he damn well does, Jackie. He’s waited years for another run at the top of a division, and he’s not wasting the chance!
Aidan drags SEB up by the hair, whips him across the ring… REVERSAL!
SEB ducks low, leapfrogs, rolls through, and connects with a perfect dropkick that sends Aidan spilling backward. SEB kips up to scattered boos and applause. He bows, mockingly.
But when he turns
WHAM!
Aidan’s bicycle kick sends him crashing flat on his back. Quick cover!
1!
SEB powers out!!
Aidan presses the advantage, hooking SEB and rattling off three straight Northern Lights Suplexes, bridging beautifully on the third.
1!
2!!
Kickout!
The crowd’s hot early as Aidan drags SEB into his corner and tags Solomon Kline.
The rookie steps over the ropes, six-foot-six and bristling with power. SEB tries to scramble away but Solomon snatches him by the throat, yanking him into a thunderous chokeslam. The ring shakes. Cover!
1!
2!!
Isaiah storms in to break it up with a stomp to the back of Solomon’s head!
The ref ushers Isaiah back out as SEB crawls desperately, clutching his neck. Solomon doesn’t let him breathe, dragging him upright and slingshotting him into an Ashes to Ashes forearm smash! SEB ragdolls, glassy-eyed, and collapses. Solomon covers again.
1!
2!!
Again Isaiah saves it!
JC: King is already working overtime just to keep the champions alive.
Solomon growls, stalking Isaiah, but Aidan calms him from the apron, demanding focus. Solomon tags Aidan back in. Together, they hoist SEB for a suplex, holding him vertical for what feels like forever before spiking him down. Aidan floats over.
1!
2!!
SEB slips a shoulder up!!!
Aidan transitions into a Figure Four leglock, wrenching hard. SEB screams, pounding the mat but refusing to tap. Isaiah slaps the turnbuckle, yelling for him to fight. SEB claws toward the ropes. Inch by inch. Finally he grabs them. The ref orders the break, Aidan milking the four count before letting go.
SEB crawls to his knees. Aidan aims a lariat—but SEB ducks, hits the ropes, and plants Aidan with a DDT! Kip-up again, though this one takes more out of him. He stumbles toward his corner… and Isaiah extends a hand…
…but SEB turns, smirks, and refuses to tag.
BG: What the hell is this clown doing? He needs a partner!
Isaiah fumes, shouting at him. SEB shrugs, “I’ve got this.” He turns back—straight into Aidan’s Brainbuster! Aidan covers.
1!
2!!!!!!
Isaiah storms in to save SEB again, breaking the pin with a stiff kick!
Isaiah glares down at SEB. “TAG ME IN!” he bellows. SEB shoves him, jawing back. The ref separates them, but Aidan capitalizes with a back suplex that dumps SEB right onto his neck. The champs are unraveling.
Aidan drags SEB up, tags Solomon. They whip him into the ropes and hit a combination: Aidan’s ripcord lariat, Solomon’s Ashes to Ashes forearm. SEB collapses. Solomon covers.
1!
2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Isaiah dives—Solomon catches him around the throat mid-break-up, glaring into his eyes. The crowd roars as the two men seethe nose-to-nose. Finally Solomon shoves Isaiah back into the corner, and the ref has to restrain both sides.
Meanwhile SEB somehow kicks out at two and a half.
JC: This is getting out of control fast.
The Tribe sense blood. Aidan tags back in. He signals for the Ice Pick spear. He lines SEB up, charges—but SEB leapfrogs at the last second! Aidan eats the turnbuckle post shoulder-first. He stumbles back, dazed, and SEB catches him with The Stamford Bridge Tiger Suplex with bridge!
1!
2!!
Kickout!!!!!!!
SEB pounds the mat in frustration. He stalks Aidan, signaling for the Empire Kick. Aidan groggily stands, but just as SEB winds up, Isaiah slaps his back for a blind tag!
SEB spins, fuming. Isaiah shrugs and storms in, cracking Aidan with the Royal Verdict discus punch! Aidan crumples. Isaiah covers—
1!
2!!
Solomon breaks it!!!!!
Now all four men are in. Solomon and Isaiah trade bombs in one corner.
Aidan and SEB stagger to their feet on the other. Aidan spikes SEB with a neckbreaker, while Solomon plants Isaiah with a Blue Thunder Bomb.
Double covers!!!!!!!
1!
2!!
Both champs kick out!!!!!!!
The arena is on fire!!!
The ref finally restores order: Isaiah and Solomon legal.
They slug it out again, fists flying.
Isaiah rattles off jab-jab-liver shot, staggers Solomon, hits the ropes—only to be flattened by Solomon’s big boot.
Solomon drags him up, signals for Dust to Dust Vertebreaker. He hoists him up—
—but SEB superkicks him in the temple! Solomon drops Isaiah, dazed. SEB grabs his own partner, screaming, “FINISH IT!” and shoves Isaiah toward the prone Solomon.
Isaiah hooks Solomon for the King’s Decree DDT—Solomon counters, shoving him chest-first into SEB! They collide! Isaiah spins around furious—Solomon capitalizes with a chokeslam! Cover!
1!
2!!!!
SEB barely saves it with a diving elbow.
SEB and Isaiah argue again, faces inches apart, screaming obscenities.
The crowd’s eating it up.
JC: This isn’t a tag team, Brody. This is a ticking time bomb.
The Tribe regroup.
Aidan drags SEB out and whips him into the barricade. Inside, Solomon sets Isaiah for the Dust to Dust again.
Aidan climbs up top, signaling for the double-team finish.
The crowd senses it—this could be it!
Solomon hoists Isaiah up, vertebreaker position.
Aidan leaps—but SEB shoves him off the turnbuckle at the last second! Aidan crashes to the floor ribs-first. In the ring, Isaiah wriggles free of Solomon’s grip, landing behind him. He shoves Solomon forward—straight into SEB’s Empire Kick!
Isaiah grabs Solomon for the King’s Decree, but Solomon shoves him off. Isaiah stumbles… right into Aidan sliding back in. Aidan spears Isaiah with the Ice Pick! Both tumble through the ropes.
BUT KING TAGS SEB ON HIS WAY OUT!
SEB sees his opening.
Aidan turns back toward him—BAM!
Empire Kick flush on the jaw. Aidan drops like a corpse. SEB collapses into a cover, hooking the leg deep.
1!
2!!
3!!!!!!!
WINNERS - AND STILL XWF TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS - THE EXILES
The roof blows off with mixed reaction.
JC: They did it—God knows how—but The Exiles retain the Tag Team Championships!
BG: Not because they’re united, Jackie—because they’re survivors. But how long can they keep surviving each other?
SEB rolls off Aidan, clutching his belt like a crown jewel, sneering. Isaiah slides back in, furious, his chest heaving. SEB smirks at him, raising his title in his face. Isaiah snatches up his own belt, the tension thick enough to choke on.
Meanwhile, The Tribe regroup in the corner. Aidan holds his jaw, Solomon his ribs, but the fans give them a standing ovation. They may have lost, but they pushed the champions to the brink of collapse.
On the ramp, The Exiles hold their belts high, but they don’t even look at each other. The message is clear: tonight they survived, but the war between them is far from over.
SEB and Isaiah King, The Exiles, are celebrating their victory on the way up the ramp after a hard fought match. Aidan Collins looks visibly exhausted as he looks to his partner.
Aidan Collins: You've come a long way, kid. I'm proud of you.
Aidan extends his hand.
JC: What a nice gesture of sportsmanship here by the veteran Collins. This is what Relentless is all about, BG!
BG: Are you sure, about that, Jacuinde? He just lost the Tribe a chance at the tag team championships and Solomon hasn't shaken his hand yet.
JC: I'm sure he will. It's the Tribe! They are like family!
Solomon looks down at his mentor's extended hand and back up at his face, his eyes empty, hollow. Solomon doesn't shake his hand. He just turns and starts to walk away before muttering under his breath...
Solomon Kline: Weak.
Aidan steps forward, a little on edge. He grabs Solomon's arm and spins him around, to face him. Solomon shakes him off, frustrated.
AC: Mind running that one by me again?
Solomon gets right into his face, nose to nose. He lifts the microphone again.
SK: You're weak, Aidan. Pathetic. I carried us here and you dropped the ball. Maybe you just don't have "it" anymore. Maybe I should have just joined the Black Rainbow and finished the job on my father. I should have refused and left your career dead where it should have stayed. It's over, Bliz. The Tribe is dead.
Solomon starts to walk away again, after dropping his microphone, leaving Aidan stunned.
JC: I told you there was trouble in paradise, BG. Solomon just confirmed it. The Tribe is no more!
BG: Wait, but you said...
But Solomon isn't done! He rushes back into the ring and spears Aidan Collins! Ice Pick to Aidan! Solomon lays it in with punches to Collins' face. He slides out of the ring and grabs a kendo stick from underneath. He slides back into the ring, quick, snakelike. Solomon starts to pepper Aidan with kendo stick shots to the ribs on both sides. He drops the kendo stick and drags him up to his feet. He then slams him back down with the spinebuster. Up again. Back breaker!
JC: Now that's what I call Relentless!
BG: You're sick! The man has a family! What about his wife and kids?
JC: Well, he should have thought about that before letting down the Psycho son of Crimson Kline! The apple does indeed not fall far from the tree!
Solomon continues the assault, all of his attacks focused on the bad back of his former mentor and partner. Out from the back comes Atara Raven! She's trying to intervene. She runs toward the ring, but then two figures step out from the crowd, clad in all black with ski masks on and get in her way. They take off their masks.
BG: Is that? It's Charlie Nickles!
JC: And Matthias Syn! What's the Corporation doing here!?
BG: Do you even watch promos, Jacuinde?! In signing up for the Team XWF vs. Team Valor match tomorrow, Solomon actually joined the Corporation!
JC: He didn't read the fine print?
BG: No one does, JC. No one does.
[/white]
Atara can only watch as the Corporation holds her back and Solomon continues the assault on Aidan. He caps it off with Ashes to Ashes, followed by Dust to Dust and finally, on a ragged, bloodied Collins, the Crimson Dawn! Solomon laughs proudly as he walks away. Charlie puts his hand up for a high five as Atara pushes past the men, making a beeline for Aidan. She shoots a dirty look Solomon's way as she does. Solomon shakes his head no to Charlie's high five attempt and the three men of the Corporation walk off together. Back in the ring, Atara calls for medical staff to come check on Aidan and they flood out from the back at the Corporation goes backstage together.
BG: What a senseless attack by Solomon Kline. He should be ashamed.
JC: I think he got was coming to him.
]TODD: Bama, what an incredible start to the Relentless weekend we’ve experienced so far. That huge coming-out party for Clutch Cassidy, who looks like a bonafide future superstar. XXXVI pulled off the shocking upset over Thunder Knuckles to capture the Revolution Championship. Then that classic of a tag team match that saw the Exiles retain over the Tribe, and then Solomon Kline betraying Aidan Collins to join the Corporation!
BAMA: Even with all of that, we still have two more matches to go, and I’m pretty excited for this next one. A match that’s going to determine the future contender to the Anarchy Championship… and will that be against the Alleged Micheal Graves, or Corey Smith?
TODD: Whoever it is will potentially have their hands full based on that talent that’s gunning for that top spot in this match. We have Atara Raven, Larry Tact and Amber Mansley set to do battle here. All three of these competitors have been at the top of their game in recent weeks, and they all appear to be dialed in to winning this match here tonight and going on to capture the Anarchy Championship.
“Break It Down” by Lil Debbie plays the venue’s interior surround systems. The audience immediately boos the young athlete coming out from the backstage area smiling at the hatred she receives. Amber stands center stage with her hands on her hips, staring out to the audience before doing a slow twirl where a spotlight shines only on her, creating the illusion of a silhouette. Once she faces the audience again, she snaps her fingers, and the lights return to normal before strutting down to the ring like on a model’s runway.
ANNOUNCER: "Introducing on her way to the ring! Hailing from Boca Raton, Florida! At five feet, seven inches tall, weighing in at 143 pounds! She is “The Influence” Amber Mansley!
TODD: There is, Bama. Amber Mansley! Perhaps one of the hottest new additions to the XWF Anarchy roster in recent memory!
BAMA: She’s got it all baby! The moves, the looks, the charm, and most importantly… She's got the skill to be a major player here on the Anarchy brand. I know Jimmy Stars was licking his chops with this signing!
Amber stops before the apron facing the ring, then looks both ways at the fans at ringside booing her. She gently leans over the apron, shrugs her shoulders, and then kisses the camera. Amber holds onto the bottom rope with both hands before spinning herself into the ring, lying on the canvas in the center. The camera transitions to a sky-view with a single spotlight on her in the arena, and from the camera’s point of view, it looks like an artwork of Amber in a silhouette fashion. She gets back on her feet, snaps her finger to alert production to brighten the lights, and silences her music as she takes refuge in a corner, kicking her body up on the top rope to relax.
"In the Face of Evil" by Magic Sword reverberates over the PA. Row after row, aisle to aisle, fans rise from their seats throughout the arena and cheer, knowing one of their workhorses is about to appear!
As the second, third, and fourth chords of the theme reverberate, three spotlights shine down, one over another: A green circle, a gold triangle over it, and a crimson line intersecting the other two. On the Tron, his monikers cycle through one after another:
TACTILIZING ONE
GAME CHANGER
LIMIT BREAKER
From there, the beat triggers the house lights to illuminate the figure of Larry Tact standing on stage. He's looking down as he hones in for the battle ahead.
TODD: And now here comes Larry Tact. A man who has gotten better and better and better week after week. He came into the XWF with all of the hype, a former world champion in various federations, but his career here started off a little rocky.
BAMA: But you’re right, baby! The Tact-man has gotten it going these last couple of months. His matches against Graves and PVE were some of his best performances to date.
TODD: And despite not coming out with wins in those contestants, it’s become clear that Tact is a man who can bang with the best in the XWF. And tonight, he’s ready to show everyone that he belongs in Anarchy's main event picture.
After a few seconds, Tact whips his head up and trudges to one side of the stage, firing up the fans by pointing towards different sections. He goes to the other side of the stage and beats his chest with a hand before opening his arms to the reaction of the crowd. "THIS IS YOUR SPOTLIGHT!" Larry bellows as the audience hoots and hollers back. He returns to center stage and points to either side of the crowd. The lights cut out except for green, gold, and crimson spotlights highlighting the audience in attendance. Larry makes his way down to the ring, pounding fists with some fans at ringside before hanging onto the middle rope and pulling himself up onto the apron.
Facing the stands, he opens his arms up and puffs his chest out to receive the feverish energy of his supporters. Wiping his boots on the apron, Tact proceeds into the ring. He climbs a turnbuckle and again holds his arms out. “BEST GAME WINS!!!” he exclaims to another pop before descending and making his final preparations for the match.
The honeyed rasp of Atara's voice blares over the facility's PA in unison with those words appearing on the multitude of screens and displays littering the arena.
HELLO DOVES
The crowd pops and gets to their feet shouting in near total unison a single word.
OPA!
TODD: And here comes the Goddess Incarnate!
BAMA: Atara Rave, baby! Easily the wrestler with the most XWF bonafides in this match.
TODD: Easily indeed. But much like Larry Tact, Atara’s return to the XWF hasn’t always been what you would expect from a wrestler of her caliber, but over the recent weeks, she’s really picked it up, and tonight she too is looking to prove that she belongs at the top of the Anarchy card!
Arena lights start to pulse in time with the music and multiple vertical streams of pyro erupt across the front of stage. Strutting with purpose Atara emerges from the back taking spot centerstage atop the ramp. Posing for the camera, a wink and kiss is given to the viewers at home.
Grunge walking to the ringsteps, she climbs and stops at the top to posture again for her adoring public. Hand on her hip, the Grecian moves to the middle of the apron to blows a final kiss to the camera and enters the ring through the middle rope.
#1 Contender to Anarchy Title
Amber Mansley
- vs -
Atara Raven
- vs -
Larry Tact
The bell sounds and the crowd swells, buzzing with anticipation. Amber Mansley takes the first steps toward the center, hips swaying like she’s walking a runway, lips curled into a self-satisfied smirk. Atara Raven circles to the left, her eyes unblinking, her arms loose but ready. Larry Tact hangs back, chin down, sizing up both opponents like a predator waiting for the right opening.
Amber stops, plants her feet, and blows an exaggerated kiss toward Tact. SMACK! Atara slaps her across the chest with a blistering chop. The audience erupts into a thunderous “OPA!” as Amber stumbles back, clutching at the sting.
Amber’s expression twists from smug to furious. She whirls with a spinning back fist, but Atara ducks, cinches her waist, and rattles the ring with a German suplex. Amber arches in pain as Atara rolls fluidly back to her feet, shimmying her hips in a quick Hasapiko dance. The crowd roars louder.
TODD: Atara Raven not only wrestling with authority, but dancing on her opponent’s pride!
BAMA: Baby, when she gets to moving like that, you know she’s feelin’ herself!
But Atara’s moment ends abruptly when Tact storms forward with a short-arm clothesline that nearly flips her inside out. He drops into a cover on Amber instead.
1!
2!!
Atara dives in and breaks it.
Tact drags Atara up by the hair, muscles her into the corner, and drives his shoulder into her ribs with a series of thudding thrusts. He hooks her arms for a double underhook piledriver—
—but Amber kips up, springboards off the ropes, and nails a flying forearm that smashes Tact across the jaw. He staggers back, releasing Atara, who collapses to the mat. Amber struts, brushing imaginary dust off her shoulders, posing mid-ring as the crowd rains boos.
She turns around - - -CRACK!
JUDGEMENT OF PARIS ALREADY!!!
The flying Muay Thai bicycle knee that crashes into Amber’s temple. Amber drops like she’s been shot. The crowd explodes. Atara dives into a cover.
1!
2!!
Tact yanks her off by the ankle, dragging her under the bottom rope and slamming her spine-first into the barricade. The audience groans as Atara crumples.
Amber stirs groggily, clutching her head. Tact slides back in, snatches her by the throat, and plants her with The Humbling uranage suplex. Cover!
1!
2!!
Atara barely breaks it, sliding back under the ropes to stomp on Tact’s back.
All three scramble to their feet, and chaos erupts — Atara peppering Tact with stiff jabs, Amber smashing Atara with elbows, Tact clubbing Amber with heavy forearms. A three-way brawl in the middle of the ring, fists and limbs flying.
Tact gains control, muscling Atara into a gutwrench suplex, then snatching Amber into a snap powerbomb. He covers Amber.
1!
2!!!!!!
Atara breaks it again, diving across both.
She drags Amber up, swings her into the ropes, and nails a belly-to-belly suplex. She pops up, catching Tact coming at her with a crisp arm drag, then chains it into an armbar on the mat. She wrenches her technical precision on full display, forcing the big man to grit his teeth.
Amber interrupts with a diving elbow drop across Atara’s spine. Atara releases, rolling away, and Amber pounces, stomping Atara’s back with fury. She poses with a “snapping selfie” gesture, smirking as the fans jeer.
TODD: Mansley’s confidence is sky-high right now, but she better not forget she’s got two opponents breathing down her neck!
She turns—straight into Tact, who hooks her waist and hurls her across the ring with a release overhead belly-to-belly suplex. Amber lands hard, rolling under the bottom rope to the floor.
With Amber outside, the fans rise as Tact and Atara square off. They circle, the buzz electric. Collar-and-elbow. Atara slips behind into a waistlock, but Tact reverses into a standing switch, then drops her with a dragon screw leg whip.
He grabs her ankle immediately, twisting her into the Tactful Surrender tequila sunrise. Atara screams, clawing at the mat. The fans chant “OPA!” in unison, trying to will her free. She thrashes, trying to roll, but Tact cranks harder, eyes blazing.
Amber suddenly springboards back in, crashing down with a missile dropkick that knocks Tact sprawling. The hold breaks, and Atara crawls away, clutching her knee.
Amber seizes the moment, rolling Tact into a small package.
1!
2!!
KICKOUT!!!!
Amber is on her feet in an instant, hitting the ropes and returning with her “Ate and Left No Crumbs” curbstomp. Tact eats the canvas.
Cover!
1!
2!!
Atara dives in to break it, saving the match.
Atara slams Amber with a vicious chop to the chest—OPA! The crowd chants back. She whips Amber into the ropes, but Amber springs up, rebounding with a tornado DDT that plants Atara. She transitions immediately into a guillotine choke. Atara thrashes, trapped.
Tact staggers up and breaks it with a stiff boot to Amber’s spine. He lifts her, muscles her into the torture rack, and spins her out into the Tactilizer spinout powerbomb! The crowd gasps at the impact.
He covers.
1!
2!!
Atara just barely breaks it.
Tact snarls, dragging Atara up and hoisting her into the rack as well. He tries for another Tactilizer—Atara wriggles free, landing behind him. She hooks his arms and spikes him with a Tiger suplex into a bridge!
1!
2!!
Kickout!!!!!!
Amber dives in, catching Atara with a spinning back fist into a bridging German suplex. Cover!
1!
2!!
TACT BREAKS IT UP!
The crowd is losing their minds!!!!
All three spill outside. Atara smashes Amber with a chop across the barricade, fans screaming “OPA!” again. She whips Amber toward the steps, but Amber vaults up the steel, flips back, and wipes Atara out with a moonsault.
Tact grabs Amber from behind and ragdolls her with a back suplex across the announce table. The desk doesn’t break, but the crowd groans at the impact. Todd and Bama leap from their seats as Amber writhes on the wood.
BAMA: Baby, my notes! She almost went through our desk!
Tact drags her up, rolls her back in, and follows—but Atara catches him, cracking a steel plate across his back! The sound shatters like glass as fragments scatter everywhere. The crowd roars in shock.
TODD: Atara brought the Greek plates!
BAMA: OPA, baby! Somebody’s cleanin’ that up later!
She rolls Tact inside and covers.
1!
2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
BUT AMBER SAVES IT WITH A LAST SECONF DIVING ELBOW!!!
Amber drags Atara up, hoists her into the corner, and lays in her Amber’s Trend rapid-fire knees. She pulls Atara out, hits the ropes, and nails her It’s Giving Finisher springboard forearm smash!
Cover!
1!
2!!
Tact yanks her off by the hair, spins her, and plants her with the Star Power release powerbomb into a backstabber! Amber writhes in agony.
Tact covers!!!! THIS IS OVER!!
1!
2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!
Atara just breaks it!
The fans are losing their minds, the arena rocking with stomps and chants.
All three crawl up slowly. Amber staggers first, firing wild elbows. Tact clubs her with a lariat. Atara chops him down. Amber nails Atara with a Pele kick. Tact plants Amber with a spinebuster. Bodies drop in sequence, the crowd roaring for every impact.
Tact drags Amber up, sets her for the Throne Recliner Steiner recliner submission. He wrenches back, Amber screaming, trapped mid-ring.
Atara scrambles, dives in, and kicks Tact across the skull to break it. She drags Amber up, slings her into the ropes…Amber rebounds….
JUDGEMENT
OF
PARIS!!!!!!!
Atara’s knee caves her face in.
Amber flips backward, lifeless.
Atara collapses on top.
1!
2!!
3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
WINNER: ATARA RAVEN!
The arena explodes in thunderous chants of “OPA! OPA! OPA!” as Atara rolls to her knees, chest heaving, eyes shining with victory. The referee raises her arm as she stumbles to her feet, sweat dripping, her hair a tangled mess.
Larry Tact sits on the apron, shaking his head in disbelief, while Amber clutches her face, the boos raining down. Atara doesn’t care — she dances a slow Hasapiko over Amber’s fallen body, the crowd clapping in rhythm, cheering with every step.
TODD: Atara Raven has done it! Through pain, through chaos, through two of the toughest opponents you could put in front of her, she’s the number one contender to the Anarchy Championship!
BAMA: The champ, whoever it’s gonna’ be, better lace those boots tight, baby, because OPA is comin’ for the crown!
Atara points to the Anarchy Title graphic flashing on the Tron, her eyes narrowing, as the fans roar in approval.
JC: Folks, this first night of Relentless has been INSANE already! But we have an absolute barn-burner of a main-event for you!
BG: Absolutely, Jackie boy! This match has star vibes! In a few short months, you can imagine both these competitors meeting with the Universal title on the line.
JC: But tonight, they battle for the most competitive belt in the XWF! The Television Title! Thirty minutes of raw, agonizing combat is about to head your way, folks!
The lights die without warning. Not a fade, but a full blackout that sucks the air out of the arena like the calm before a fire. Then, a strobing light, lime green, flares beneath the metal of the floor. Another, quicker and sharper. A third, holding longer now. Long enough for the crowd to catch a glimpse of the static forming on the screen overhead.
The distorted bass of “DEATHLIST” by Code: Pandorum and GHØSTKID blares across the arena’s speaker system low, grinding and industrial. It doesn't start like music, but more like a warning. Like the hum of something broken beneath concrete.The speakers rattle, and with them the crowd begins to stir as the opening continues to play, rhythmic and angry. Noise from the crowd rolls through like a cold draft in a sealed room, a few cheers, a few chants. But mostly unease.
"Do I love you? Or do I hate you?
Can I trust you without failing you?
Gonna tell you what the secret is...
You're number one on my DEATHLIST."
Whispered, the lyric doesn't rise above the crowd but cuts under it, precise and personal. The music drops out completely, not a fade, and not a glitch, just the same as the lights as they die out entirely. But then, detonation as the bass slams back in without warning, twisted and violent, louder than before. Strobe lights erupt in a manic wash of toxic green, casting sharp, flickering shadows across the sate. It's disorienting, like a spotlight wielded as a weapon. Motionless in that moment, Dickie Watson stands framed in light. No grand pose, no war cry, hair falling in his face and shoulders loose like man who doesn't need to prove he belongs here -- he already knows he does.
JC: Dickie Watson is a man on a mission! He secured this opportunity for the Television Title winning a fatal four-way match with Tatiana Jolee, Emilia Glazkov and Razor Blade! Very game competition!
BG: Pssssh, how game can you be when RAZOR BLADE had you dead to rights in the middle of the ring!
JC: …Yes, as Sarah indicated in her promo, there was a brief instant where it seemed like Razor Blade would pull off the biggest win of his career and secure a spot for the Television title at Relentless!
BG: But lucky for Mrs Wolf, she’s gonna get to dine on more prestigious meat tonight! An industry-beloved world champion! Exactly the kind of meal Wolf can sink her teeth into!
JC: I have a feeling, Brody, that Watson has NO intention of making this easy for her.
He holds this, eyes floating over everyone, and then moves a beat later. Not with urgency, not with showmanship. Just steps forward like the rest of the world is moving slower than him. He doesn't look to the sides, doesn't soak it in. He's not here for the moment, he's here for the thrill. Every movement is precise, like a blade being unsheathed. Quiet, measured. He walks down the ramp towards the ring, eyes still glancing off to the side, turning his head slightly to acknowledge fans and enemies alike. At the barricade, he reaches out and slaps a few hands not necessarily out of respect, but more of obligation. These are the people who kept him alive for so long, and what he does this for.
He rounds the corner to right, bypasses the steps, and jumps, both feet hitting the apron in one clean lift. Without grabbing the ropes, without pause, he slings himself over the top and lands near the dead center of the ring, bent knees taking the brunt of his leap. He circles the ring once, loose-limbed, cracking his neck slightly, and stops. Near the far corner, he crouches with his elbows on his knees, fingers dangling in between as his music fades.
…
The lights cut out and slowly the sound of static begins to fill the air. Otherwise known as ‘white noise’, it is the sound that was once associated when a tv’s channel was between numbers. The sound grows louder, and louder, until it reaches the peak of its volume, and a single spotlight flickers at the entrance way. Four people, neither man nor woman in presentation, appear in the bright by comparison only stream, and lift gold chains off the ground, sling them over their shoulders, and begin to march forward. All of their strength is put into the effort. So much that they march at a 90 degree angle. From beyond the shadows, what they are pulling appears.
A television.
Rabbit eared, wood paneled tv complete with push/pull activation toggle and rotation channel changing knobs. The screen comes to life as it enters the spotlight. The spotlight dies as the glow of the tv increases. On the screen, we can footage of your beloved TV champion. Taking Lucy Wylde down and out. Beating Aiden Collins, and Simon Kline. 36 is also pictured, but instead of footage of Sarah putting him down, it’s a clip of him standing back up after his defeat.
The screen continues to play random images of Sarah Wolf, but a black liquid begins to drip down the screen from both upper corners. Each passing second more and more of the screen is covered, with the images now being covered switching to a single static image.
It’s Sarah. And she’s laughing.
The screen drops away, revealing your beloved TV Champion, standing in a puddle of the black ish she’s known for. Her theme, When I am Queen by Jackoff Jill, already in progress and louder than it’s ever been. Her dress is that of cobwebs and chains, and as she walks forward, a train of goo, chains, and wires that connect her to the tv begin to tighten and become taught. Sarah raises her arms, revealing the coveted TV title upon her waist, and the wires release with a spark and explosion, as pyro launches into the air. Sarah smirks as the crowd boos her, a moment she obviously enjoys far more than they want her to.
JC: Sarah Wolf has been absolutely dominant since she took the Television Title off Lucy Wylde! She’s ran through opponents like Blizzard, XXXVI and Solomon Kline!
BG: She’s been absolutely UNSTOPPABLE, Jacko! She’s vicious! She’s RUTHLESS! And she’s been ITCHING like a dog with fleas for a chance to DISMANTLE Dickie Watson!
JC: Wolf did say the chance to beat the excrement out of Watson was a gift… Meanwhile, Dickie said, strip away her rage and Sarah Wolf is a little girl begging for attention!
BG: There’s so much talent that’s going to be in that ring! And absolutely ZERO love between them! This one is going to be EXPLOSIVE!
JC: That’s right, folks, you eyes are not deceiving you! A THIRTY MINUTE Television Title match!
BG: It’s Relentless, baby! No one wants a time limit draw! Everybody and their mama’s want to watch this one go to a finish!
The two opponents emerge from their corners and begin circling each other, jockeying for openings.
Wolf’s eyes narrowing into cold amusement. The corners of her lips curl into a grin that looks more like a predator baring its teeth than a smile.
JC: Sarah Wolf is as dangerous as she is vicious.. Animalistic even, in that ring!
BG: She’s a hunter! The fact that a time limit draw goes in her favor is almost a non-factor here… she doesn’t win by technicality, she wins by punishing her opponents as much as physically possible
Dickie circles, trying to find a grapple attempt… Wolf, by comparison, moves like she’s stalking him like a predator, body low, fingers twitching like claws waiting to sink into meat.
Wolf suddenly lurches forward…
But Watson rolls to the side, in readiness, evading her grasp!
BG: Watson’s acting like he’s the defending champ! If he wants the belt, HE’S gotta beat her, not the other way around!
JC: Watson’s gameplan is built around frustrating his opponent’s, breaking their rhythm, getting them out of their pattern and forcing them into improvising and making mistakes…
BG: Well, tell him to get to it already! Clock’s ticking!
28:57
28:56
28:55
…Wolf’s predatory smile drops into a frown… She imagined the time limit would force her opponent into her claws, but Dickie knows this dance, and seems comfortable waiting for an opening.
Suddenly, Wolf jerks her head in a feint, then slashes forward with a clawed hand toward Dickie’s cheek, the swipe less about damage and more about leaving a reminder—a red welt to nag at his concentration!
BG: Ooooh, Wolf draws first blood!
JC: Or did she? Looks like Watson reeled back out of harm’s way there!
Indeed, Dickie’s head snaps back just in time, though Wolf’s nails catch a whisper of skin. He winces, the sting flashing in his eyes, but his brows lower into something defiant… He bites his bottom lip as if to choke down the sting and resumes circling…
…Wolf’s sneer contorts further into a scowl.
JC: …This might be Dickie’s gameplan. Slow and steady is how the tortoise beat the hare and it might be how Watson infuriates Wolf into losing her typically measured and sadistic control of her opponent.
Wolf launches herself forward, trying to latch onto Watson…
…But Dickie fires back with a sharp…
LOW KICK aimed at Sarah’s thigh! The kick drives Watson out of the range of Wolf’s grapple… and stings like a motherfucker!
JC: ooooooh, that’s gotta sting!
BG: Wolf loves pain. She loves taking it, almost as much as she loves inflicting it…
JC: But this measured, tempered, rope-a-dope offense by Dickie isn’t the sort of life-or-death fight Sarah goes nuts for, Brody! Can Sarah take back control of the tempo or will she continue playing into Dickie’s hands?
27:30
27:29
27:28
Sarah stumbles back a half-step, her face tightening with annoyance at the audacity. Then, the annoyance melts back into delight—she likes that he fought back. A raspy chuckle slips from her mouth as she launches herself forward again…
Dickie preps another debilitating kick…
…But Sarah, with elegance of a ballerina and the force of a linebacker, slips even lower than Dickie’s low kick, sliding on one knee, penetrating his defenses and RAMMING her shoulder into Dickie’s ribs!
Dickie doubles over, the wind driven out of him… Sarah snaps her teeth at his side like a rabid animal.
BG: Uh oh, I think Miss Wolf just got a metaphorical taste of blood! And she wants to follow it with a literal one
Dickie tries to back-pedal back into a defensive stance… But Wolf anticipates it!
Her head surges forward like an alligator snapping its jaw… AND SHE BITES DICKIE’S SHOULDER!
The crowd recoils in horror at Sarah’s bite!
JC: I knew Sarah’s bite was even worse than her bark! But this is wild, Brody!
BG: Hope Dickie got a rabies shot before this match!
Dickie’s eyes widen at the sudden jolt of pain. His body tenses instinctively, trying to peel back and escape… but like a dog’s bite, pulling away only sinks Wolf’s jaws in further contracting as he jerks to the side to escape the bite. She smiles, growling, grabbing Watson’s other shoulder to pull him into a clinch…
…But Watson’s hand shoots down, gripping Sarah’s wrist to peel her away. The disgust flashes across his face, his lips curling back in a snarl.
Wolf and Watson’s free-hands battle for control… Until Watson yanks his bit shoulder DOWN and slips his arm around Wolf’s skull!sing the recoil of her weight against him to whip her into a quick side headlock!
JC: Wow! A masterful counter by Watson! I think most other competitors would have lost their minds at Wolf’s shocking bite attack! But Watson maintains his composure!
BG: Dickie may… ‘carry himself like a kicked dog’ according to Wolf… but I’ll give this to him. Once the bell rings, there is almost no one more locked into a moment than Dickie Watson…
25:54
25:53
25:52
Dickie applies torque onto Wolf’s neck, trying to drag her off a vertical base down to the mat…
…But even as her neck is squeezed tight, Sarah’s teeth are still bared. She claws at Dickie’s forearm, raking skin, forcing little welts to rise.
JC: Wow! I think we felt like Dickie had seized some amount of control there, but Wolf’s rage makes that side headlock counter feel like a mistake…
BG: This feels less like a wrestling match and more like a man wrestling a feral animal!
Sarah’s breathing sharpens into low growls… With a sudden jerk of her hips, she shifts her weight to try and drag Dickie off balance, aiming to drop them both and grind his spine beneath her!
Dickie’s face flashes with the realization—he sees the trap forming in her stance. His lips press into a thin line, as he pivots his hips in the opposite direction.
Sarah drives her shoulder downwards, looking to trap Dickie against the mat…
…But Dickie plants his foot and sweeps—a sudden, sharp…
RUSSIAN LEG SWEEP! Cracking Sarah to the mat.
The crowd rises to their feet for Dickie’s impressive counter!
The impact jolts Wolf’s brace against her back, and Sarah’s face twists—not in horror, but in ecstasy at the pain radiating through her spine. Her body arches, eyes rolling back as she lets out a breathless hiss of laughter.
JC: Russian Leg Sweep from the Russian! Watson counters flawlessly!
BG: But look at Wolf, Jacko! She’s smiling through it! How the Hell is Dickie supposed to put someone like that down for a three-count?
23:30
23:29
23:28
Wolf may indeed be laughing on the mat… but she is still down. Dickie switches gears, knowing this may be his window to seize a greater level of control.He drops to one knee, seizing her arms, for an armbar!
JC: Watson immediately transitions! He knows a single impact won't keep Wolf down. He's going for the kill… or at least the submission!
BG: It’s hard to use the word ‘kill’ euphemistically whenever Sarah Wolf is in the ring!
But as Dickie tries to drag her arm between his legs to secure the submission, Sarah twists, her spine still arched, her eyes now gleaming with a fresh, unsettling hunger. She hooks her heel behind his knee, pulling his posture forward, then lashes out with a swift, open-handed chop to his chest!
BG: Augh! Surprise shot, Jacko! Dickie took every bit of that one!
The blow, delivered with surprising force, makes Watson flinch. The pain shoots across his chest, momentarily breaking his concentration on the submission. It’s enough for Wolf. With a feral grunt, she scrambles, using the moment of Dickie’s staggered stance to pull herself free, like a coyote escaping a trap, and leaping up to her feet! The moment her backward roll is complete, she’s already charging back in, darting forward, low and fast!
JC: Wolf escapes! She’s coming at him on all fours, almost a primal stance!
BG: Dickie can’t give her an inch! She’ll take a mile, and probably a pound of flesh with it!
21:55
21:54
21:53
Dickie sees Wolf coming and tries to rise into a defensive stance, but Wolf’s charge penetrates his guard! She drives her forehead hard into his chest… Dickie’s face contorts in agony as he drops to one knee…
Sarah sneers like a sadistic child pulling the legs off an insect she’s trapped... She clamps a hand around Watson’s fallen form as he tries to catch his breath…
Then twists him through the air sharply!
POWERSLAM!
Dickie crashes to the mat awkwardly, his head bouncing off the canvas.
JC: Oh, what a vicious counter-attack! Wolf is targeting that core! What’s she setting up for, you think, Brody?
BG: If I had to guess… she’s going to literally pull Watson’s heart out of his chest!
Before Dickie can even fully register the impact, Sarah is on him, straddling his waist. Her fingers, which had twitched like claws earlier, now lock around his THROAT!
JC: Oh my GOD! This goes beyond wrestling, Sarah is trying to choke the life out of Dickie Watson! That’s definitely an illegal choke!
BG: Best case for Sarah, she crushes Dickie’s windpipe before the official’s five-count and he suffocates, choking on his own bile! It’s a bold strategy, let’s see if it works for her!
Wolf squeezes, not with overwhelming force, but with a steady, grinding pressure, her face inches from his, a cold, delighted smile stretching across her lips.
Dickie’s facial muscles seize, clawing at her grip as the official barks a five-count at her!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
FOUR!
…Sarah releases the choke… Dickie’s face relaxes as air rushes back to his lungs… The official directs the champion off her opponent…
But she simply resumes the choke! Squeezing even tighter!
Dickie’s hands snap up, grabbing at her wrists, trying to pry her fingers away. His face begins to flush, veins popping in his neck. He thrashes his head from side to side, but Wolf holds firm, her smile widening as his struggles grow more desperate. She lets out a low, guttural growl, almost purring, enjoying his weakening resistance.
The official barks angrily, restarting the count!
JC: He’s fading, Brody! He’s fading fast! The referee needs to break this up!
BG: The ref’s counting, but Wolf knows exactly how long she can get away with it! This is psychological warfare as much as it is physical!
ONE!
TWO!
…Even as the official counts, Wolf’s focus remains entirely on Dickie. His eyes are wide, glassy, starting to roll back in his head.
THREE!
FOU-
Again, just before the DQ, Wolf releases her grip, but not before raking her nails down Dickie’s chest, leaving angry red gouges. Dickie gasps, sucking in a ragged breath, coughing and sputtering. His hands fly to his throat, rubbing the red marks left by Wolf’s grip.
JC: This is not looking good for Dickie Watson! Wolf is in total control and she’s using it inflict TORTIOUS PUNISHMENT on Watson’s body!
Wolf pushes herself off him, standing over his prone form, her chest heaving slightly, but her eyes burning with satisfaction. She plants a foot on his chest, grinding it in with a casual cruelty, watching him writhe.
JC: Wolf relishing in the pain she’s inflicting! She’s taken full control of this match!
BG: And after Dickie tried to frustrate her, she’s returning the favor a thousand times over! You don’t poke a wolf, Jacko. You just don’t![/white]
18:17
18:16
18:15
Sarah grinds her boot harder into Dickie’s chest, her lips curling into that same feral grin. Her eyes glitter with glee at his gasps, her hand hovering just above him like she’s already deciding which part of him to dissect at next.
JC: Watson’s gotta find a way to fight here if he wants to become TV champion!
BG: Watson’s gotta find a way to fight here if he wants to LIVE, Jacko!
Dickie’s face is red, his breath ragged, but then his eyes narrow. Sarah lifts her boot to STOMP through Watson’s chest…
But suddenly, his arms suddenly shoot up—grabbing Sarah’s ankle with both hands.
JC: Watson’s alive! He’s still fighting!
BG: Big deal, he grabbed her ankle! Watch Wolf kick a hole straight through him!
Before Wolf can force through Watson’s grip, Watson rolls onto his side, twisting Wolf ankle, turning her against her will!
And with his other hand, he grasps Wolf’s other ankle, bringing her down onto her face!
JC: Timber! Masterful takedown by Watson!
16:42
16:41
16:40
Sarah, even while falling, like a jungle cat, twists to turn onto her side to limit her vulnerability to a follow-up mounted attack, keeping one foot on the mat!
…But Dickie refuses to let the moment slip, shoving up to his knees. Before Sarah can pounce agan, this time, Dickie lunges forward, his palm striking out in a stiff thrust right into Sarah’s sternum! The blow forces a grunt from her lungs and knocks her onto her back!
JC: Dickie is fighting tooth-and-nail here to take back control of this match! And it’s working!
Sarah snarls as the air whooshes out of her.. But she’s only on her back for a moment, rolling backwards onto her feet, charging right at Dickie like a wounded animal.
But Dickie’s eyes sharpen with predator’s clarity. He sidesteps at the last instant! As she skids by, his arms hook around her waist, his legs plant firmly into the mat. With a sudden torque, he SNAPS her backward into a picture-perfect…
MILLENNIAL FALLOUT! (Bridging German Suplex)
Watson clinches the bridge!
JC: Oh my! We’re nearly at the halfway point and here’s the first pin of the match! Can Dickie steal in right here?
The official drops to count!
ONE!
TWO
THR-NO! Wolf forces a shoulder off the mat and herself out of Dickie’s grip!
BG: Wolf fights on!
JC: Still an impressive counter by Dickie! It feels like the winds of momentum might be shifting!
14:48
14:47
14:46
Both wrestlers lie there, chests heaving. Dickie’s up first rolls to his knees, cradling hisaching chest, before smacking the mat with his palm, dismissing the pain and rallying the crowd!
The fans surge, their cheers echoing through the arena!
Sarah pushes herself up, her brace stiff against her back, her face twisting with fury. She shakes her head, dark hair clinging to sweat across her cheek. Her eyes lock onto Dickie’s rallying form, a scowl pulling at her mouth, shoving up to her feet to snuff the life out of Watson!
Watson springs up as well!
Wolf goes for another clawing strike…
But Dickie ducks under, running for the ropes…
Watson spins around for another pouncing attack…
But Dickie slides low!
Low dropkick to the ankle that buckles her stance… Wolf gets clipped, dropping to one knee, bending forward, cradling her ankle…
..Watson’s eyes widen!
JC: Oh my! Could we see a Rise to Glory right here!?!
Dickie doesn’t waste a moment, he springs back to the ropes!
RISE TO GLORY (Curb Stomp)!
…
NO! Wolf slips backward! Watson’s boot hits nothing but air!
The air gets sucked out of the crowd who thought they might get an early finish there!
JC: Sooooooooo close!
BG: This ain’t horseshoes or hand grenades, Jackie boy! Close means a MISS!
Dickie tries to get his footing back… But Wolf is already on him, scooping her arms around his waist…
Lifting him so his legs dangle in the air!
PILEDRIVER!
JC: OH SHIT!
Dickie gets DUMPED on his skull! His body slumps like the lights just went out in his eyes…
BG: WOW! What a maneuver! Absolutely VICIOUS attack by Sarah Wolf! That could do it right there…
Wolf squeezes her ankle, slow to crawl into the cover…
…She finally flips Dickie onto his back… His arms flop open as his back is pressed against the canvas…
Wolf leans bcak against him, sneering with a sadistic smile as the official counts…
ONE!
TWO!
THRE-NO!
Somehow! Some way! Dickie finds life and forces his shoulder up!
JC: WOW! How’d Dickie survive that piledriver! That was GNARLY!
The crowd starts buzzing with electricity in disbelief that this one’s still going after the punishment both these competitors have inflicted on each other…
11:26
11:25
11:24
For a moment, there’s a frustrated expression on Wolf’s face… That eventually transitions into a sadistic grin.
JC: …What the Hell is wrong with Sarah Wolf?
BG: She just remembered the longer this match goes, the more pain she gets to inflict on Dickie! Why the Hell would she not use every second she can!?!
Wolf pushes herself up slowly, deliberately, crouches low beside her opponent… Watson’s arms turn… slowly trying to rise… to summon up life to fight on…
Wolf grips Watson… and digs her nails into his shoulder, yanking him upright with a sharp jerk. She whirls Watson off his feet and snaps him into a…
BACKBREAKER! Dropping Dickie across her knee!
JC: Sickening attack, right across the spine! Wolf knows exactly where to aim—Dickie’s core, his back, the one place he can’t afford to have shattered!
BG: Call it sickening if you want, Jacko, I call it smart. You can’t fight back if you ain’t got a spine!
Dickie’s face contorts in sheer pain, his teeth bared, back arching off her knee. His arms flail for purchase, eyes squeezed shut.
Sarah doesn’t let him fall. Instead, she shoves him to the mat and drops down after him. Her hands snake around his arm—Kimura! She wrenches violently, twisting his shoulder and wrist in ways no human joint should go!
JC: Kimura! Sarah has Watson in the Kimura! Dead center of the ring!
9:48
9:47
9:46
Dickie howls through clenched teeth, his boots pounding against the canvas. His face is a mask of agony, veins bulging across his forehead, sweat dripping into his eyes!
Wolf’s eyes dilate as she savors inflicting exquisite pain on Watson… She leans in, whispering something into his ear, as the official barks in the other, asking if Dickie can continue…
Dickie’s hand hovers…
It shakes above Wolf’s shoulder…
The crowd screams for Dickie, begging for him to fight on!
JC: The crowd is trying to will Dickie back into this thing! Begging for him not to tap!
BG: None of these people are in a Kimura right now! TAP OUT, DICKIE!
Watson’s jaw clamps down, his hands hovers…
But instead, he kicks his legs forward, inching them toward the ropes…
JC: Dickie’s fighting—he’s dragging himself inch by inch! What willpower!
BG: More like stupidity! He should quit before something rips clean off!
Wolf feels him shifting and snarls, yanking harder, her expression curling into vicious delight… Her voice in his ear goes from a mocking whisper to a barking command to give in. She wrenches again, trying to snap his spirit with his ligaments!
…But Dickie lets out a guttural scream…
His hand tremors!
He kicks out one last desperate lunge…
…
AND HIS FOOT CLIPS THE BOTTOM ROPE! The ref shouts for the break!
JC: Dickie makes it! Dickie finds a way to fight on!
BG: But how much damage has Sarah Wolf already done, Jackie boy! Sure, Dickie’s still in the race, but he’s driving on three wheels and a smokin’ engine!
8:07
8:06
8:05
Despite the official’s order, Sarah holds on!
JC: Oh c’mon, let go!
BG: She has ‘til five, Jacko!
The official counts!
ONE!
TWO!
Dickie plants a boot on the ropes, trying to lift his body off the mat to reduce the torque on his arm… Wolf’s furious he’s finding ways to mitigate the pain…
THREE!
F-...
FOR… once, Sarah breaks the hold early!
JC: Possibly some frustration here from Wolf… she savors inflicting pain… Watson’s still struggling against her.
BG: Sarah’s trying to crack him open like a wolf cracking open a turtle’s shell… Dickie’s defense has held so far, but it’s about to crack, she knows it!
When Wolf releases the hold, she sits back on her haunches, her breathing heavy…
Dickie lies there, clutching his arm, rolling to his side, gasping. His face is a battlefield of pain and grit—teeth clenched, eyes watery but sharp. He presses his forehead into the mat and pushes himself up, defying the tremor in his limbs, as if forcing himself to go on through nothing but his willpower.
…Sarah reaches a vertical base first. She grabs Watson by the hair and drags him upright, then instantly hooks her leg around his and snaps him into a brutal…
SPINAL LOCK TAKEDOWN!
JC: Once more, Wolf going for a punishing submission hold!
BG: That tortoise shell is about to crack! And when it does, it’s gonna be DELICIOUS STEW for the eyes!
6:36
6:35
6:34
Dickie writhes in the hold, his back wrenched, his face twisted in agony. He claws at the mat, reaching for any escape, every nerve screaming…
The crowd explodes with chants of his name.
Sarah jerks the hold tighter, her laughter rising, feeding on the moment!
The official asks Dickie if he can continue…
But Dickie roars through the pain, twisting his body sideways, and somehow, impossibly, forces himself to roll through…. Slipping out of Wolf’s grip!
JC: DICKIE! WATSON! LIVES!
Sarah slaps the mat in fury as Watson slips free, her face twisted with disbelief that he endured her torture and still wriggled out. Her lips curl into a snarl as she pushes up fast, eyes blazing.
Wolf rises back to her feet, as Watson running on pure adrenaline sprints across the ring to bounce off the ropes!
Wolf lunges—her hand raised for a rake across his face!
Watson ducks under, his eyes flashing with stubborn determination, his teeth clenched against the pain.
JC: Wolf trying to claw him apart again—but Dickie dodges!
As Dickie sprints past her, Wolf whirls, her boot whipping around for a…
ROUNDHOUSE KICK!
…No! Watson throws his body back, narrowly avoiding the blow, his hair whipping across his forehead as the boot slices the air in front of him.
BG: She’s going to catch him eventually! He can’t dodge forever!
Sarah comes in again, this time driving an…
BULLWolf?...Hammer Elbow!
…STILL NO! Dickie sways out of range, his body moving with pure desperation, the crowd roaring with every narrow escape.
Wolf puts all she had into that one, briefly losing her footing…
Dickie sees his chance! He ducks low…
CLIPPING SHOULDER BLOCK TO THE ANKLE! Watson sweeps her leg out from under her!
JC: Watson’s still finding the ankle! That’s his answer! Wolf still favoring it!
Sarah crashes to a knee, her face flashing with pain and rage as she clutches at her ankle.
The crowd surges to its feet… as Dickie howls with determination!
He seizes the moment, backing up into the ropes!
Sarah tries to stand—
…but Dickie plants her skull to the mat with a brutal—
RISE TO GLORY!
BG: WOW!
JC: CURB STOMP! He hit it! He hit it! We could have a new Television champion!
BG: That’s IF he can make the cover at all, Jacko!
…Wolf’s skull is PLANTED into the mat… She’s still… immobile… But a low growl emanates from her… as if she’s still seething even in unconscious instinct…
Dickie sprawls forward from the impact, his chest heaving as he collapses on the mat beside her. His arm clutches tight against his body, his back wracked with pain, but his face is alive with the smallest flicker of hope.
Dickie crawls arm over arm, teeth grit fighting through the pain, as he rests an arm atop Wolf’s chest!
The official drops to count!
ONE!
TWO!!
THREEEEEEEEEEEEE-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
SARAH WOLF KICKS OUT!
JC: SHE’S STILL IN IT! Sarah Wolf kicks out of Rise to Glory!
BG: You can’t kill a wolf that easy, Jacko! Sarah Wolf is still breathing! And if she’s breathing? She’s still dangerous!
4:21
4:21
4:19
The crowd is thunderous, stomping, clapping, roaring for Dickie’s name—
Both wrestlers lie on the mat, neither able to rise immediately. Dickie rolls weakly to his side, clutching his arm, sweat pouring off him. Sarah stirs, her lips twisting into the faintest cruel smile even as she’s flat on her back.
The referee looming over them, beginning the ten count.
BG: Somebody shoot that guy into the sun! Absolutely NO ONE wants this match to end in a draw! Not even Sarah Wolf, and she’d retain the belt that way!
ONE!
TWO!
Dickie stirs, rolling to his stomach, his face a mask of grit and agony.
THREE!
FOUR!
Sarah claws at the canvas, dragging herself inch by inch, her eyes narrowed, teeth flashing in a grimace that borders on a smile.
FIVE!
SIX!
Watson plants one hand on the ropes, pulling himself up, trembling with every motion. His arm hangs limp against his body, his chest heaving like a furnace.
SEVEN!
EIGHT!
Wolf pushes herself upright on her knees, her fingers clutching the mat, her back arched in pain. She forces herself to her feet just as Dickie staggers upright opposite her—
NINE!
Both competitors collapse against the ropes for balance, but they are standing. The match continues!
JC: Both of them beat the count! How are they even standing right now!?
BG: Pure hate, Jacko! Hate is stronger than gravity!
The crowd is on their feet, anticipating the end is near…
3:02
3:01
3:00
The two competitors, running on fumes and hate, faces twisted in exhaustion and stubborn fire… both stumble forward toward each other…
—Dickie swings first! A forearm across Sarah’s jaw!
She staggers… but snarls, keeping her footing!
She fires back with a wild elbow that smacks against Watson’s cheek!
His head jerks, his lips bloody from the impact… but he also remains upright!
JC: Neither of these two is even trying to dodge anymore! Absolutely insane!
Dickie answers with another forearm, this one sharper, teeth bared through the pain…
Sarah reels but growls, her body trembling… and she SLAPS him across the jaw with a violent open-handed strike!
Dickie rocks back, his face flashing with pain—but his eyes narrow. He digs deep, rears back—
CRACK! A vicious open-handed chop across Sarah’s chest!
Wolf gasps, air blasting out of her lungs, her knees buckling…
She sinks to one knee, her body quivering! The crowd screams!
JC: That one dropped her! Watson has an opening!
1:44
1:43
1:42
Dickie stumbles backward, ricocheting off the ropes, desperation and fire propelling him forward—
But Sarah’s hand SHOOTS UP—
DEVILLOCK! Mandible Claw sunk deep into his jaw, her face curling into a sadistic grin as she wrenches her hand up into his mouth, driving him back!
JC: SHE’S GOT IT! DEVILLOCK! WOLF IS GOING TO STEAL THIS!
BG: Drag him down, Sarah! Rip the fight out of him!
1:01
1:00
0:59
Dickie’s body shakes violently as Wolf forces him toward the mat, her hand clawing deeper, trying to suffocate his spirit. His eyes bulge, his limbs trembling…
Dickie stumbles backwards, doing everything he can to stay on his feet…
He nearly loses his footing!
JC: If Dickie winds up on his back in Sarah Wolf’s Devillock, this one’s over!
But instead of falling… Watson hooks his arms around the rope behind him!
The crowd screams for Dickie!
JC: Watson survives!
BG: But survival’s not enough now! Time is running out!
0:37
0:36
0:35
The official admonishes Wolf, demanding she break the hold…
But Wolf simply drags Wolf away from the ropes! And again tries to drag Watson down to the mat!
BG: WOLF PULLS WATSON OFF! SHE’S GOT THIS IN THE BAG!
Watson ROARS through the agony, his arms wrapping around her waist—
He lifts—staggering—
And hoists her HIGH into the air!
The crowd explodes—
DICKIE’S REVENGE! He drives her skull-first into the canvas with a thunderous impact!
JC: DICKIE’S REVENGE! HE NAILED IT!
0:08
0:07
0:06
Watson collapses on top of her, hooking the leg, his face contorted in desperation!
The referee dives in—
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
WINNER - AND NEW XWF TELEVISION CHAMPION - DICKIE WATSON
The bell rings as Dickie rolls off, his chest heaving, tears and sweat streaking his face, the crowd deafening in celebration.
JC: HE DID IT! DICKIE WATSON SURVIVES SARAH WOLF!
BG: …No. No, no, no! This ain’t right! Sarah had him! She HAD him!
JC: Either way, Night One of Relentless comes to a close with Dickie Watson standing tall as the NEW XWF Television Champion! What an incredible night this has been! Tune back in tomorrow as the Anarchy Tag Championships are on the line in the main event!
A special thanks to our match writers:
"Bashmaster" Barry Masterson
Corey Smith
Peter Principle
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